not pregnancy nausea, no, pretty sure of that, though it’s always the first thing that springs to my mind when i’m feeling queasy. this is probably more of the “ate too much salted and heavily greased popcorn, drank too much hot chocolate (anyone else always feel sick after drinking hot chocolate?), then took too hot a bath that was interrupted mid-way by ruth stopping in to greet me, and then dipping her feet in and then taking off all her clothes and getting all the way in and then refusing to get out after i’ve already gotten out and am standing there naked waiting to towel her off with her dad in the other room threatening not to finish reading her bed time stories if she didn’t get out in two seconds and then yelling her frickin’ head off bloody murder style at the thought of the injustice that was being done to her” nausea. yes, all this, and then christmas season ick.
what this is is a special kind of stomach ailment caused by too much stress, too much thinking, not ever enough time for the doing. up to even the month before chrsitmas, i always think, “why do people/i get so stressed about the holidays? nothing to get all worked up about. it’s a joyous time, in fact. taking themselves too seriously, that’s peoples’/my problem.” then, before i know it, it’s december. and then december starts to slip away, lo and behold, i check the calendar and it’s two weeks to christmas and not a gift has been bought, not a light hung, not a to-do list written or crossed off.
in any case, here we are, in the midst of the holiday season. yesterday we drove out and bought our tree. today we decorated it. both occasions, i could have used at least one if not half a dozen stiff drinks, know what i mean? that could make me more jolly. ho ho ho. then i could make more merry. greg decides to take the scenic route (damn his damn i phone or whatever the hell that uses GPS to tell us exactly where we are at all times, giving him leave to try all sorts of different routes to reach our destinations. we can even go in a corkscrew fashion revolving in spirals around our destination at the center if we like. isn’t that great??) and we spend not the fifty minutes promised, oh no, but two hours driving to the tree farm? i’m cool. ruth refuses to dress for the weather and it’s twenty with a wind chill of probably nothing and then screams her head off nearly from the second we leave the car so that, after driving two hours, we power walk to the nearest tree and saw it down as fast as humanly possible and buy it so we can get back into the car where it’s warm? whatever. ruth insists on digging out and trying to hang up all of the breakable ornaments even though i separated out an entire box of kid-friendly ones specifically for her to hang low on the tree where she can reach so none of the small children that will be coming to our house over the holidays knock any of the fragile ones down and then try to ingest tiny bits of colorful glass shards? hey, i’m hangin’ loose. joel is fussy ’cause he can’t help and spends the whole time crying and simultaneously grabbing at and shoving pine needles into his mouth? i’m chill, bro. at least he can’t crawl yet. he’d be all up in that tree.
you see? i’m down with this cool yule, too. i can hang.