Christmas gets more and more complicated each year.
This year, I'm knee deep in wrapping paper, stunned-scared I've forgotten someone, and absolutely (oh God, NO) sure (please don't make me) I'm going to have to make a trip (whimper) to the mall.
Next year, I've already told B (although that may have been the eggnog talking) each of the kid is getting two gifts. I will study them. I will make sure they're perfect. Those two gifts will be wowie-zowie-knock your socks off. But TWO.
(Oh, come ON! Between Santa and the multitude of relatives, these kids are NOT being neglected.)
And I'm leaning dangerously close to tossing my hat in the ring and saying 'Gift cards for everyone!'
(Which still feels like a cop-out to me. Blame my upbringing. My mom is a great gift-giver, always the perfect thing. It's hard to live up to.)
I wish I was crafty. But I'm just....not.
And Christmas looms bigger every day.