A Momsense Christmas poem

The kids knew it wasn't a good time to pout.

The calendar was filled; we were dashing and dizzy

And I'd managed to get myself worked into a tizzy.

It was bad enough the Christmas budget was blown

By a new set of tires and a late student loan,

But now it was snowing— one foot maybe two —

And the furnace went kaflooie -- as if dying on cue.

Of course the kids have no clue we aren't "rich" ....

And people wonder why I've developed a twitch!

Last year I had hope: "Simplify, Cherish, Enjoy!"

That was my motto; but it was hard to employ!

I thought maybe this year I'd get the hang of it

But circumstances still got the better of me — Dang it!

I shout at the little ones for not hustling and bustling;

I over-react to their innocent tussling.

I think the snow clouds have filled up my head —

Sugar plums, they are not — and I take to my bed.

My husband, God love him, might as well live on Mars,

When it comes to Christmas, he sees only stars.

It's the one time of year I never hear him complain

He loves the lights, the tree, the snow: he's insane!

A bit of a Scrooge the rest of the year

Now he's downright jolly, and it's becoming clear

That if I don't become merry and bright

I might be spending Christmas alone. That's right ...

Alone ... hmm .... alone, now there's a nice thought.

Alone is something I'd like quite a lot.

A long sudsy bath, soft music and lighting

No cell phone, no schedule, no kids and no fighting.

But come Christmas morning, wouldn't I miss

The magic, the merriment, the mistletoe kiss?

I would, I decided, but I'd miss most of all

That sense of accomplishment — that, through it all,

I gave it my best and I did what I did

To create a happy memory for each of my kids.

Christmastime can be stressful, without a doubt,

But I've reconsidered: It's worth sticking it out.

I'll endure the kids' "gimmies" and I'll stand in long lines;

I'll wrap, and say "Where's the tape!" for the umpteenth time;

I'll marvel at the merrymakers and I'll envy them too —

They're like Bob Cratchit or Clark Griswold or a Who!

But while I'm not Cindy Lou and I never will be,

I DO like the cards, the music, the tree,

The wrapping, the bows, the cookies, the snow,

The kids' excitement, the Ho Ho Ho's.

So I'm praying for help — only three weeks to go.

I know I can do it — just go with the flow.

Whatever gets done will have to be enough —

Didn't get to the baking ... well, that's just tough.

My final advice I hope all dads and kids take:

If you want a Merry Christmas, please give moms a break!