Bah-Humbug

I am dragging this December. I don't know if it's because someone (if not multiple someones) in the house has been sick for the last two weeks, or if it's because it's freezing, and slick out on the roads, or if it's the lack of sleep from getting up with multiple children every night, but, man am I dragging. I feel shut-in and claustrophobic, but it's too much work to leave the house. And that's saying something, because usually I am all about going and doing, no matter what.

I'm having a hard time getting "into the season". We haven't made goodies. We haven't gone to see lights. We haven't done art projects. Forget the advent calendar. The only reason we even got the tree decorated this year is because Aaron did it with the kids one night while I made dinner. I couldn't muster up the energy to put the lights on it. 

Christmas to me this year is feeling a lot like work. Extra work. On top of all the other work I haven't been getting done. My laundry is piled sky high, my house is a wreck. I don't even want to think about mopping my kitchen floor, because let's face it, point five seconds after I do, someone will walk across it in their snowy boots, and that will be the end of that. 

And I'm tired. So very tired. I want to sleep for a million years. But that's not going to happen any time soon. I feel like a zombie. Even if I had a free moment to sleep, I wouldn't be able to. When I go to bed at night I've been just laying there for hours and hours, not sleeping. And while I can easily point out what we aren't doing with our days...I'm a little hard pressed to come up with anything useful that we ARE doing. Wiping noses. Distributing Tylenol. Listening to Adelia throw yet another tantrum as I make her sit on the potty. Breaking up fights. Sending people to time out. Listening to all the complaining and ungrateful whining about everything from why they don't like what I made for dinner to whose turn it is to pick the story for the night. Do these things even count for anything?  Can I run away now? 

Is it just me? Or does anyone else feel like they are going to come unhinged then next time they have to shoe, sock, coat, and load four children into the car? Because of course, no one wants to dress warmly; it's snowing after all, who needs shoes!? 

Lately we've been on this my-kids-don't-eat-their-meals kick. Super. Well, unfortunately the rule at our house is, if you don't eat your meal then you don't get a snack. Because we don't waste food. That's all fine and good, until you realize that you're going to be listening to them whine unceasingly about being hungry for the next several hours until the next meal is served. Of course, I tell them that they are welcome to go finish their breakfast/lunch/dinner whatever, if they are really that hungry.  I leave it out for them. I'm not in it to starve them. I just don't want them to waste food. I'm fine letting them go back and eat it. But of course they don't. They'd rather just follow me around begging for snacks. And by snacks, I really mean treats. I threw away a plate full of cookies today, because I was so sick and tired of listening to them beg for them when they wouldn't eat their meals. Threw them right in the trash. Lincoln proceeded to tell me that Daddy was going to be really mad at me when he came home and found out I'd thrown away the cookies. Good. Then maybe he'll stay home and deal with these ungrateful, irritable, whiny, stubborn children.

I'll run away to the library, and come back when it's Spring.

Bah-humbug!