My little rant about the holidays

A Your Mom post.

As I’ve been writing gift guides for this newsletter, and for my other one, Earl Earl, I’ve felt a little pilot light of frustrated rage click on inside me. It’s one thing to imagine the hypothetical gifting happening in other homes, but when I turn that focus back onto my house, and onto my kids….there’s that flicker!

I want them to experience the magic of Christmas morning, they love the idea of Santa, I LOVE Christmas. Yet the thought of them shredding wrapping paper off a pile of plastic toys gives me the full body ick. I want them to have that joy, but I also find myself grumbling that they’re not the kinds of kids who are happy with just one toy. One meaningful toy. Who won’t snivel if the avalanche of gifts is less than it was last year, who will never say, “She got more than me!” Than I, my sweet, she got more than I.

I’m watching myself in real time turn into an absolute asshole about this. A Shrew-ooge (shrew and scrooge?) venting and ranting about THE STUFF THE MOUNTAINS OF S…