Yeah, I removed my weight loss ticker because I'm only 10 pounds from having gained all 40 of them back. It's a bit depressing, but a real testament to the shape of my life and mental state. I am so happy I can write and not be really revealing anything to anyone because nobody is reading this. I guess that is a good thing, even though as I browse through all the blogs I read, I notice everyone but me has friends who care about what they have to say. *sigh* But again, testament to my life...

So three weeks ago, I made a plan, while everyone was in the room with me, to go camping this weekend. I scribbled out softball practice, moved a 4-H meeting, cancelled another meeting, all so our little family of 5 could go camping. Get the hell out of this house, this town, and this mindframe. I wanted peace and relaxation more than anything in the world, so I wrote it on "THE CALENDAR". With everyone watching and laughing as I wrote it...
Two days later, Garry calls me and asks me what I think about going to Flagstaff or Mesa Verde and living on room service for a couple days. After I had discussed and explained all the reasons I wanted to GO CAMPING. In our regular spot, just the 5 of us. But he argued it would be more relaxing to go to a motel...
Then the Jeep broke down, and so we can pull the camper with the van, but we can't really go as many places as we could have with the Jeep, but then the excuse for not wanting to go camping is that the van won't get us where we normally go. I was trying to be flexible, said about 4 different options we could all live with...
Then all of a sudden a week ago, his sister decides to tell her mom she wants my husband, his brother, and their father to go down and move her from one house to another one. A week ago. After the plans were made, options were still hanging about WHERE to camp, but it was set in stone. No more. "I'm going with Papa to help move Nikki this weekend." Kinda like saying, "screw you, bitch. You should know by now you mean nothing to me. Duh!" So I said, okay, we'll just go out Saturday since he is going down Friday and will be home that night. HE shrugs his shoulders as if to say, "think what you want."
So we had a plan, the father in law decides he does not need my husband, and do Garry calls me up this morning, THURSDAY, and tells me this, and suggests we go to Show Low instead of camping, go bowling for $50 instead of camping for free, and maybe ride go-karts or play miniature golf, maybe go fishing one day or something like that. Well, the kids didn't act too distraught over the change of plans, so I shrugged, meaning in no unclear terms, "Whatever, at this point I'd just as soon have YOU leave and just leave me here to relax alone."
So two hours ago, I was in the kitchen, making homemade ice cream and dinner, and he comes in and tells me that we're taking his niece and nephew and I say, "cool, I'll just wander around Wal-Mart for a while instead," since I'm not terribly fond of bowling to begin with, can't see paying $8 to ride a go-Kart, and a game of mini-golf with 3 kids already makes me want to kill myself, so I can only imagine what it would be like with 5. And he has the nerve to say, "Why don't you just stop with the bitchy attitude and get involved." WTF??!? My involvement was planning a camping trip A MONTH AGO, including menus and buying the freaking food, and once again my weekend is going to be taken up babysitting someone else's freaking kids and using my first summer weekend as a family reunion. I'm so happy.
What is the problem, you might ask if you were reading this? Well, it's like this. Our marriage is on the shakiest of ground on the best of days. I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that once the kids are out of the house, we will not be married anymore. He's told me at least a hundred times he does not love me, and stays with me because we're not miserable and the kids benefit from having two parents who get along. I can't say I disagree with that statement in the least, but it does make for some very awkward feelings inside me. When we have a chance to work on our family relations, I would really like to take that chance. And secretly, my hope is that someday I can do, say, or keep from saying, something that will make him love me. It won't happen when we're around any member of his family. Because, and this is another part of the problem, he still considers his mother and father and siblings and aunts and great aunts twice removed more of "his" family than me. Never mind that we've been sealed together for time and eternity. Nevermind that the GA have ALWAYS said a family consists of a husband and a wife. Nevermind that the new and everlasting covenant is that of eternal marriage and that husbands are supposed to "cleave unto his wife and none else."
But I guess, as I've decided about so many other things, I need to just suck it up, resolve myself to being alone, and start working on the relationship I have with myself, because it's apparent I'm the only one who wants to have a decent relationship with me. I"ll be alone in the end, and I guess I might as well give up on the idea of having a life mate and just start acting like I know what I know. Stop caring, stop trying, stop working on something that is dead. Beating a dead horse may tenderize the meat, but it still won't make it rideable. I guess I just need to accept that and stop fantasizing about a change.

Spring Fever and stuff

I THOUGHT it was spring. Silly me. But it doesn't hurt my feelings to get a little extra moisture to kick-start the growth of my plants that are still alive after the record-breaking wind five days ago. Well, as long as we get our July rains like we did NOT get last year...

We started building the addition on our house yesterday, and got halfway done with the floor before a) we found that "we" didn't buy enough OSB. Yeah, I didn't do the drawing or the figuring and b) it started raining and we had to put everything away for the night.

So we ran to Show Low today (sabbath) to get more wood that "we" didn't buy last time, as well as a new drill and a new miter saw that we needed. (No quotation marks that time because a miter saw is one I am NOT afraid of, and can use)

I expressed my opinion of the attention everyone gives my incarcerated sister and yep, you guessed it, I got my butt chewed for being selfish. Yeah, I'm selfish because it bothers me that everyone is "reminded" to send my sister Christmas cards, Birthday wishes, goodie boxes for Thanksgiving, and all because she is "locked up and can't be around family during the holidays." My heck, maybe I should commit a few crimes so I can get AWAY from said family! Nevertheless, she's in prison for sticky fingers and an undying desire to have attention, and so we're sending her cards, homemade gifts, food, and money and nobody but me seems to see that all the "ATTENTION" is a reward for all her law-breaking. I'd never want to get out if I kept getting things in there that I never got when I was out. Maybe that's why she's come up for parole board 4 times and has gotten into trouble days before each time! Go figure. Selfish me.

Speaking of selfish, I got a new serger for my birthday last week. Oh, it is cool! I haven't been able to play a whole lot with it yet, but I am making a dress right now that is going to be really cute! I think it is going to be too small, though, as I tried on the bodice and it squishes me to the point of "uni-boob" and I need help to get it off, but...Maybe it will be the incentive I need to get this weight back off...

I can see the end of my elementary education teaching education. Sound silly? It is! I've been in school for the last 27 years of my life, literally, with no break except when I had Louis and Dakota as babies, and even then I did correspondence courses. But like I said, the end is in sight. I have one more week of the two classes I am enrolled in now, then one more summer class, and student teaching from August to December, then I am completely done! Until the next degree plan gets started. I've decided I want to be a professional student. The desire to learn is the only real honorable reason for seeking a formal education, in my opinion. You can go to trade schools to learn job skills, but college is for knowledge. Call me silly, call me arrogant, but that is my belief and it is just as valid and valuable as yours or anyone else's. I will not argue, I will not defend, because I don't need to. It is an opinion, and it is mine, and nobody will change my mind. So there.

Life goes on, sometimes slow, sometimes at breakneck pace, but no matter what, it does go on. So for now, knowing nobody is reading this, I will seek to go on with my own selfish little life by signing off and reading a book while readying myself for bed. Good night, loyal spirits in the sky.

MY Political Agenda

Noboday can flame me because nobody is reading this! HA!
Something has been bothering me for a long time, but it is time to give voice to it. Our country is the greatest country on earth, with the best form of government man can organize. Granted, my church believes God's kingdom, with Jesus in charge, will be the perfect form of communism, and I believe in that to a degree. But democracy (really, a representative republic is what we have) is as good as man can get. I believe in this.
Where I have a hard time is when I look around and realize the American Dream, once a proud notion, has changed drastically in the last 50 years or so. During the first Great Depression in the early '30s, Americans dreamed of a time when their hard work would pay enough that they could get a phone in the house, or a new cart horse, or fix the barn that had been falling down for two years. They wanted nothing more than feed for the cow so they could have milk with their wheat cereal. But they fully intended to work for it, and work hard enough to kill themselves, if need be.
Those men and women were true Americans. There was no shame in working hard for what they had, and it was a bit distasteful when people grew "too big for their britches" as they moved to cities and became "soft" by working behind desks or in offices. That type of employment wasn't "working" to the average American. Government funding was given to American soldiers who had fought for the country in the First World War. Car makers and stock brokers and Farmers all lost their livelihoods, and thousands of Americans starved to death or died of disease that attacked those people who didn't have enough food or water to keep them healthy. Neighbors helped when they could, but often they just couldn't. The average American lived on 200 acres of land, less than 1000 square feet of it was taken up by their residence, including the barn. Often the barn was larger than the house and housed far more living things than the house did. The average American family had no car, no refrigerator, no television, no phone, no running water, and one radio. The average American family consisted of a man, his wife, and their 4 children. Often, one of the grandparents lived in the home with the family. The kids usually shared a single room, often in an unheated loft. The house is owned and was built by the family living in it. It was heated by burning wood or coal.
The average American girl had hair below her shoulders, one pair of shoes, four dresses, and didn't date until she was 16. The average American girl did not have pierced ears, and makeup was only for the very wealthy. They would pinch their cheeks to make them rosy before a date. 1 in 1000 teenage girls ended up pregnant.
The average American boy was working a full time job when he was 14, often on a farm or in a store in town. His hair was cut above his ears, and he usually owned two pairs of pants, a pair of boots, and a heavy woolen coat for working outside. If he got a girl pregnant, they got married and lived happily ever after. He usually did not finish high school, but he wasn't considered a drop-out, because he was working and paying his own way.
Flash forward to the '90s in this great nation. Now the average American doesn't own a shovel or a hoe. The average American lives on approximately 5000 square feet of land, nearly half of which is taken up by their lodging. The average American works less than 40 hours a week, and draws some kind of government funding at some people throughout their lives. The average American family consists of a man and his live-in girlfriend, and 1.8 children, living in a 2000 square-foot home that someone else owns. There are no grandparents in the home; they are stuffed in nursing homes where total strangers take care of them until they die. The average family has two cars, including at least one payment, 4 TVs, a refrigerator, running water and two bathrooms, at least 1 computer with internet service, and some kind of gaming system. The average American child doesn't know that milk comes out of a cow and thinks eggs are made in grocery stores.
The average teenage girl has hair above her shoulders and does not own a dress. She has at least 10 pairs of shoes, her own phone that she can carry around with her, and "dates" when she is 13. 1 in 18 teenage girls become pregnant.
The average teenage boy has hair below his shoulders, pants that hang from his hips and show his underwear, and has his own phone to carry around with him. If the average teenage boy gets a girl pregnant, she can't prove it because of how many boys she was with during the time when she could have become pregnant, so he pretends he doesn't know her and finds a new girl to be with.
The average American screams about equal rights for everyone, but can't even cook their own dinner without something that comes in a box. The average American demands free health care, utility assistance, and food stamps, but refuses to work anywhere that won't pay $20 an hour. The average American depends on the government for everything from food to housing to health care and clothing, yet complains that they don't get enough to survive.
There is something out of whack here. This "greatest" country has enabled the people herein for so long that a collapse of government would utterly destroy and end the lives of 2 billion people. Government has taken the place of parents and teachers and isn't teaching us anything except how to be lazy and complacent.
It is time to stand up and stop taking handouts. It is time to stand up and fend for ourselves. It is time we stand up and take care of ourselves and those around us. It is time we turn this country around into something worth standing up for. It is time we revive the REAL American dream.

Well, this is what I learned today.

First, I've noticed for several years that I can do well in not overeating all day long, but almost as soon as my husband walks through the door, I am at the fridge, in the cupboards, or rifling through the deep freeze for something to eat. I've had my suspicions as to why they were related, but today I think I really figured it out.

Here is what went down at my house this afternoon. I was in here studying for my AEPA exam. Well, I've been taking practice tests for months, and the social studies section is kicking my ass, to put it as mildly as possible while still emphasizing the seriousness of the situation. I have no clue why World War II is considered a bad war. Aren't all wars bad? Okay, so I am worried, deeply worried, because I know with the state of Arizona's budget that come July when new teachers are being hired and placed, they are only going to consider the very best of the best. People who don't pass the AEPA the first time just won't be considered. I'm worried that this section will keep me from passing. So I've been studying hard. Plus today is the first day of the new semester, and I have three assignments due by Friday.

So I'm studying and he walks in and I say casually but with seriousness, "I'm not even going to pass the test!" He walks by like I hadn't said a thing. I feel a wiggle in my stomach. A few minutes later, I say something about there being no jobs anyway, and he walks into the bathroom, changes his shirt, and walks out into the living room. Now the wiggle is crawling up my back. Keep in mind that while he's been playing golf or basketball or whatever it is that he does all day, I have yet to speak an entire sentence to another human being. It has been at least 8 hours since I talked to an adult, even to say hello. My dad called this morning, or it would have been more like 20 hours. So, like I've been reduced to a freakin dog, I follow him in the living room, where he picks up Houstan and gives him a hug and punches Louis in the arm and says something like "how was your day, Koda baby?" I'm looking left and right to make sure I am actually still in the room. So I say to him, "they say they are going to close the lake to try to make up some of the budget." "Hmph," he says as he reaches around the corner and grabs a hat. "I think I'm going to go over and see if Jeff needs any help getting the shingles onto his roof. How long til dinner?" "20 minutes until the rice is done," and I am left with those wiggles now in my jaw, clenching and unchlenching it, grinding my teeth, and a curious anger and frustration building in my neck and shoulders. I roll my head (and my eyes) to try to relieve the stress and go back to sauteeing chicken. No more words. Then, it is after dark when he comes back in, after Dakota and I have already eaten, and he eats and puts stuff away. Then he comes in while I am taking yet another practice test, THAT IS TIMED, and starts talking about stuff to do with work that I know he talked to his mom about 6 hours ago when it was fresh in his mind, and expects me to listen attentively and offer up words of encouragement or awe, or whatever.

This is not uncommon. In fact, it doesn't vary at all. He gets to go away from this house all day, for 10 hours, and although my life at home isn't terribly exciting, things do go on here that I might want to talk about. I am a very talkative person to begin with, so when my entire day's worth of words can be written on two lines of regular notebook paper, that is a cause for serious frustration on my part. On top of that, I realize that not only do I feel like what I do here is worthless, he does too. Why else would he not want to hear anything about it?

So where do I go to have these emotional need met? Food. Food never lets me down. It makes me feel bloated and tired, but at least when I am tired and sleeping, I can dream of brilliant, beautiful men who listen to me and care about what I have to say, and who want to hold my hand and rub my hair and lean my head against their chest and say, "Don't worry. You are wonderful, everyone wants you to work for them," or "You are the most beautiful, intelligent woman I know, and I know you will make things happen for us." And we talk for hours, and they whisper sweet things to me, and tell me that I am too thin because in my dreams, my dream husband cares about what I have to say so I don't turn to food for comfort. But then I wake up and realize it was all a dream and that makes me depressed and I go grab some hot cocoa with hazelnut creamer and some whole grain toast with Jif crunchy peanut butter. A midnight snack that consists of nothing but sugar, carbs, and fat, and about 600 calories. But I eat it and I enjoy it, and all the while I am screaming at myself very loudly in my mind that I do not want it, I should not eat it, and that I know I am going to hate myself for eating it.

And I do. And that depresses me, and so I lay in bed as long as I can the next morning, telling myself I will do better today, and I eat only egg whites and hash browns with no oil or butter for breakfast and a salad for lunch, with fat-free Caesar Italian dressing, and I do so awesome--Until 4:40, and Garry walks in the door. And those familiar wiggles start crawling through my stomach, up my spine, and my teeth clench, and my neck hurts, and all I want to do is go for a long run, but it is cold, and there are brownies left over from last night. Louis made them, and they have nuts and marshmallows on top, and I even bought milk today to go with them...

Frustration

Nobody's reading this, so unlike the diary I once had at mydeardiary.com (no longer a real "place"), I can't seem to get any feedback from anything I write. It seems that what I once said that I live a life nobody envies is completely accurate. In fact, I live a life so dull and boring that nobody even knows or cares that it exists. But that's okay, because I can write things on here that I know my more-frequently-read counterparts could not write because people we know would read it.

My problem tonight is that I haven't had anything published for over a year and I have to say the biggest reason is because I have been so focused on school and just getting through my life that I haven't written anything publishable in over a year! I've been trying to finish this one book for like three years, but every time I get the notion and the ideas to write down, life kicks in. Either it's the beginning of a new semester, or one of the kids is sick, or I volunteer to do something for someone. The biggest problem is that when I am out of school, I will be a certified teacher, and I won't have a job. The state of the state and federal budget is such that even after 8 years of college and thousands of dollars of debt, I will still be sitting here, on my ass, eating junk to hide my feelings, getting fatter and fatter, and probably still trying to finish this book. After all the sweat, the blood, the tears, and the broken relationships I am destroying even as I write this entry, I will still be unemployed, "worthless" as my husband says and I feel. A failure.

For 14 years, I have not had one cent that I didn't have to either beg my husband for or sell a belonging to get. For 14 years I have dreamed of the day that I would be drawing a steady paycheck that I could have a little bit of control over, and because of some very stupid and crooked politicians, it will likely be another 14 before I have the job I've studied countless hours to earn. I'm just so tired of being so dependent, so unproductive...so worthless. I am so tired of begging for $1 to buy a soda or a box of tampons. I'm just sick and tired of having no control over anything in my life. I'm just frustrated, I guess...

Holiday Revolt

So Christmas is over, as well as New Year's. Now that is a "holiday" I completely don't understand. January 1 is no more special than June 12 or October 24. And people say the same idiotic thing to you every time December 31st rolls around: "See ya next year" as if it were funny. Anyway, call me a cynic, but whatever. I don't believe in celebrating fake "holidays".

Well, I'm actually a scrooge. Look it up, and it has my picture...with a scowl. There was a time when Thanksgiving (the only holiday worth celebrating anymore) was a day that people gave thanks, said prayers, and rejoiced that the ignorant white race wasn't wiped off the face of the planet by our own stupidity. Supposedly it was a celebration of a good harvest and a rewarding relationship with the Native Peoples. Yeah, then we took all their land, killed them with plagues and drunkenness and forced them to assimilate to our culture, diet, and religion to the point where many Native people don't even know who and what they are. Yeah, that is REALLY something to celebrate...

Valentine's Day is the hokiest one there is. Thought up by some woman who was pissed off at her husband for forgetting both her birthday and their anniversary, Valentine's Day is just another day to make married people feel like crap that the romance and lovey-ness has gone out of their lives, and to remind the old that they are old and "comfortable" (a.k.a. forgotten) and that life is about the young and "fresh" (a.k.a. not parents). I don't celebrate it, I never have, and I probably never will. I don't see the point of hyping up a day about a Saint, when I am not even Catholic, and in celebrating "love", just reminding myself that although I have love, there is no romance, and until my children leave, I am a mom and nothing more.

I believe in St. Patrick's Day. Yes, I know he is a patron Saint, and I know I'm not Catholic, but I AM Irish, so handle it. Besides, I like green, and I LOVE corned beef and soda bread. Get off me.

Halloween is disgusting and sick. It is the best time of year for perverts to dress up in costumes and get little children to touch them, even if it is just on the hand taking candy. I hate masks, I despise blood and gore, and there really isn't anything cool about staying up with my 5 year old for weeks because of a scary rubber face on a 7-foot-tall man. That is just not my idea of a good time.

See my previous post for my Christmas peeve.

Easter is supposed to be a very solemn holiday. Easter, the anniversary of the day when Jesus Christ rose from the dead to redeem all of mankind, has turned into a charade. People dress up like rabbits and hide eggs in the grass. What, exactly, does that have to do with God's ultimate sacrifice? How does colored eggs help us to remember the price Christ paid so that we can repent and not suffer eternal damnation? It just pisses me off how this world can allow something so special, so sacred, and so incredibly selfless turn into just another way to make a few dollars.

And for those who aren't Christian...stop trying to take what is sacred to us and turn it into another party. If you don't believe in Christ, there is absolutely no reason to celebrate Easter. Or Christmas, or even Halloween, as it was originally supposed to be a religious holiday. And if you are Christian, as I am, you will refuse to "celebrate" these holidays by spending money and giving the retailers cash to cushion their already too-plump pocketbooks. Religious holidays should be religious, not commercial.

Join me in a holiday revolution! Refuse to buy egg-coloring kits! Spend time with your families, reading scriptures, making memories instead of debt. Laugh, joke, have fun! Deny "the man" the satisfaction of raking us over the coals! Join me! Who's with me?

Yeah, that's what I thought.

Well, it was worth a try.

What I call: My truth about Christmas

The problem I have with Christmas isn't really one problem, but all of them stem from one thing; and that is that the point of Christmas is completely missed today. I will start with the most personal problems and move out to more "global" issues.

This Christmas, as the 13 before it, I have not had a job. There was one in 2003, where I did have a job over the Christmas season, but it brings up so many other horrible memories that I have chosen to block that particular year out of all my conscious thought. Well, I know the thought is that there are a lot of people out of work, but that isn't the problem here. Because I don't work outside the home, I deal with self-doubt and a sense of uselessness every day of my life. My husband is a good man and has never made our family suffer needlessly for lack of a steady paycheck, so I've never "needed" to work. But what that means to me personally is that since I don't work, not only do I not have the right to any money, I don't want to have to rely on him for every cent I want to spend on him. For example, I asked him for some money to buy him a gift, which of course, makes me feel more useless and pathetic than ever. But he said no. He said he didn't want anything. But his birthday is next week, and he's got a list a mile long that he spouted off to his mom when she asked what he wanted for his birthday. And worse, I can't buy anything for my children either. I have to justify every $0.50 expenditure, and I don't like reporting to anyone that I bought a "secret" gift for one of the kids. It kinda defeats the purpose of buying things secretly. That is problem number one.

Problem number two is closely related to number one. EVERYONE expects something for Christmas. The in-laws expect a gift, and a long time ago, the three kids said they would each spend $50 towards gifts for their parents. Welp, once again, we didn't partake of this little tradition, even though the other two did. I wanted to, and I reminded him that we needed to set aside a couple hundred dollars to get things for the extended family. We had the money, we just didn't do it. So Christmas Eve rolled around this year and we are in Show Low exchanging gifts, and nobody had anything from our family. Oh, each one of us recieved something. But my brother- and sister-in-law and their three little kids didn't recieve anything. The grandparents were going to their house for Christmas morning, so they saved the gifts for then, but we were supposed to participate in this exchange. But again, because he controls every cent of money, which is his right since he earns every cent of the money, I had no say, and it isn't really the thought that counts. Nobody knows how horrible I feel that their little kids had nothing to open for Christmas Eve. Nobody knows how I am still scheming in my mind how to buy them gifts when I get my financial aid money next week, and maybe lie and say that we just forgot them over here. I freaking hate this feeling, and I feel like if I was doing my part, and bringing in some funds that I had control over, this would not be happening and I would not feel like crap. In a nutshell, that is problem number 2.

Problem number 3, again, is related to money and my lack of ability to provide or control any. My mom is without a job this year, and for the first time since I remember, she really doesn't have any steady income. Yet, somehow, she managed to pick up books for my daughter, along with some homemade hot cocoa mix, that I know she put lots of love into. For me, she made an amazing scrapbook of pictures and stories about the Medley side of our family. She gave my oldest son money, because of problem number 4. And for my baby, she made a Sacrament Meeting activity book, which is awesome. He'll be able to use it all year and think of her every time we pull it out. She went out of her way to make awesome, heartfelt gifts for my family, and once again, because I don't have any money control, she got nothing for us. Oh, I take that back. I made her a gingerbread house. It turned out really cool, but it is nothing compared to the work she put into our gifts.

Problem number 4, as alluded to above, is the attitude my children have. Child #1 hates clothes. He swears it should be against the law for anyone to give any child clothes as a gift, for any reason. So while I was making pajamas and hats and scarves and ponchos for my other two kids, I didn't make him anything. At first, I thought, "that will show him. While the other kids get nice warm pajamas and stuff, he'll be wishing he had them." But looking at it from how I would have been thinking about it when I was 13, he probably thinks I don't love him as much as the othr two, since I obviously didn't make him anything. And, of course, that also meant he didn't get anything from me, since I have no control of money to buy things for him. The other two children aren't as hung up on clothes as #1 is, but they still think they are "owed" everything they get, and more. So if they don't get everything they wanted, we have failed as parents. And the worst part of the whole thing is...

Problem number 5! It isn't just my kids! I am not the only one that feels the pressure. When my children go back to school, for the second Christmas in a row, they will not be telling their friends that they got a Wii or a Blu-Ray player or a big-screen for their bedroom. Shoot, the boys don't even HAVE their own rooms. But because the story will be that once again, the Hitchcock's can't keep up with the (fill in a name here)'s, and their kids are big nerds because they STILL don't have their own electronics and game playing systems. But even if the money was there, I refuse to submit to the pressure of people whose children are spoiled and lazy and just figure everyone owes them everything...

Christmas is about Jesus Christ, hence the "Christ" in "Christmas". No, he wasn't born in December, we all know that. We all know that historically, it would be much more accurate to celebrate his birth around Easter, but we already have the resurrection for that time of year. Christmas is a celebration of a miracle, and whether you believe it happened or not, THAT is what it is about. You can choose not to celebrate Christmas and nobody will care, but the celebration is about Christ, and if you can't stomach that, you need to not celebrate. Santa isn't real, never has been. He was actually "created" to give a less didactic view of Christmas to people, but he still represents Jesus Christ. Bet you didn't know that! Yep, its true! Santa brings gifts to symbolize not only the gifts the Three Kings (or wise men, or priests, or whatever you want to call them) brought to the toddler Christ, but also the gift Jesus was to give us of the atonement. My biggest problem is that people don't seem to know that anymore. People buy and buy, and spend money and buy more, and bad-mouth other people when they can't afford to buy more and they completely forgive that really, WE don't deserve to recieve gifts at all. It is CHRISTmas, not GENAmas, or LOUISmas. It isn't about me getting anything, it is about the celebration of Christ's birth. It should be simple, and gifts should be HANDMADE WITH LOVE, if exchanged at all. People should be spending their time doing what He would be doing, if He was here: helping the homeless or downtrodden, writing letters or making phone calls to the people we love, feeding the hungry, singing to lift the hearts of others. Christ would be worshipping His Father, not worshiping Sears or JC Penney. HE would be sitting around a table, breaking bread and spending time with those he loved, not running up credit card bills and treating other shoppers like they are slime under rocks.
I'm just sick of it. All of it. The whole Christmas experience. I love the time with the family or friends, but I'm tired of how the world has turned it into a commercial fiasco meant only to bring businesses the big bucks.