We took the kids to go see Santa last night. Part of my husband's plan to spend at least an hour out of the house every day to get the dog completely cage trained before we have to travel for Christmas.
I had no desire to go. I whined so bad about the long lines and how Gabe wasn't going to get it that you would think I had some traumatic Santa experience as a child. But I didn't. And he didn't really get it, but he loved looking at the fake reindeer and wearing the little cardboard elf ears they gave him (except when the camera was on him, of course). The line wasn't even that long. I felt kind of like a boob, but I guess it's the pressure of the season and not being sure how much I will, or want to get done off of my list. Even possibly thinking about wasting an hour in line is enough to stress me out this time of year. And despite that pile of gifts, I am not done shopping. I could be, if I HAD to be, but I want three more.
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