I really really really, I mean really hate this time of year.  My father is a type A person who has called me 5 times within the last 24 hours to make sure that we all know what the plans are for this weekend.  I know what my plan is, it involves a large bottle of Jameson and a lot of ice.  (the ice will be for the headache I will have, not due to the booze, but to my family)  I love them dearly, but I stress out because Dad stresses out and feels the need to share with me.

My husband has been mostly veggie for 2 years now, I actually got the question, “What kind of snack stuff does A eat?  Do we need to get anything special?”

In my mind I replied before he had finished speaking, “I don’t know Dad, how bout those carrot things, I hear they’re really good and there’s no meat involved.”  But what I actually said was, “Standard snack stuff is fine, if he needs something particular, we’ll head over to the store and get it later.”

Have I mentioned that I’ve been dieting for over a month, and we discussed at Thanksgiving, the idea of a nice healthy meal with steaks or something rather than the traditional 12 casserole spread?  He’s ordered 16oz fillets…… WHO THE FUCK IS GONNA EAT A WHOLE ONE??  Jaysus Fecking Christ on a pogo stick!!  There’s nothing I can say either, so I’m going to share mine with the kid.

I’ve yelled at both my husband and the kid today for no reason other than I have to get stuff done at the last minute.  I’m tired already and my back is starting to twinge, which means the stress level is reaching the High Alert state.  After mentioning the size of the small cows steaks, and reemphasizing the whole “DIETING” thing again, I got another call about an hour later to inform me that my mother was baking cinnamon rolls, and there would be apple and pecan pies as well.  Oh wait, let me get this straight…there will be 7 of us, for a grand total of 3 days.  When the hell are we supposed to eat all this and not explode or go into diabetic comas as the case may be?

We always get together the week before Christmas, because in the past between my brother and I, one of us has always had a job that required us being at work on the holiday.  There’s also the whole situation with the kid and the ex, so we swap him off for the “actual event” every other year.  The part that is probably not helping right how is that my birthday is coming up on Monday. (There will be a second bottle of Jameson for that occasion as well)  So not only do I get the “rushed like hell family insanity holiday spirit damn it all to hell have fun and enjoy yourself” weekend, but I not only get to feel older, but I will be, literally, immediately after.

I’m going to go start drinking now so I can get the house cleaned for the pet setter and get everything that I can packed in the car and ready to go so I don’t have to fuck with it tomorrow.