O Tannenbaum

He's done! The Tile Guy is done! Everything except sealing the grout, that is. "I'll come back in 2 weeks and seal it for you, so it doesn't get stained," he said. Can you tell this guy doesn't have kids? What we need is pre-sealed grout. I give this stuff about 5 minutes before someone spills half a quart of grape juice on it. Larry convinced him to come back in a few days instead; but why bother? It will still be too late. For now it looks gorgeous, though; I need to remember to take some pictures before those little monsters ruin it.

Still sick here. I made it to Anna's flute choir concert anyway (I call it preemptive attendance - she could have cared less whether or not I showed up, but I don't need her throwing my absence in my face 10 years from now, thanks), which was bearable. I am missing the Mom gene that makes it possible for me to go gaga over these concerts - her friend's mom was gushing, "Weren't they wonderful?!" while I was thanking the good Lord that I had brought my knitting to keep me busy.

Granted, I have the head cold from hell, which makes me a tad grouchy anyway. As in, I almost took Larry's head off later for I-don't-know-what (and in front of the kids - not my finest moment). Then I went upstairs and slammed doors and sulked a bit while I put away laundry. (See? Even when I'm sulking, I'm doing the damn housework.) I thought about how single parents have it easy, because they don't have to get along with anyone, and how I am going to be old and grey before these kids are old enough for me to run away from home without feeling guilty about it. And I thought about how much I hate having teenagers in the house, because they make me feel short and old and naggy. And I wondered why everyone else is enjoying living with their teens (or so it seems, from the blogs I read) while I am hating every minute of the experience.

And then I went down and apologized. And I actually meant it. But I think Larry is still pissed off.

Yesterday we decorated our tree. Let me explain here that I am proud of the fact that I have always let my kids decorate it how they like (well, I insist on white lights - no colored lights for me). It always ends up being somewhat of a mess, with homemade ornaments that we've saved through the years that the kids are proud of, and ornaments that Larry has brought home from his travels that he and I like, and big, unbreakable (!) shiny balls from IKEA. I've always felt good that the kids were happy and that the tree looked beautiful to them, even though it looks like some weird sort of rummage sale to anyone else. Okay? So, this year, Anna says, "I wish we could have a tree that has the lights, and the balls, and some tinsel, and that's it." She said it nicely; but, with that one sentence, she uncovered that yearning for a tidy Christmas tree that I had repressed all these years. And ruined my day.

I sound crazy, but this time of year does that to people. And the head cold - I did mention the head cold, didn't I? And I was up again last night with a barking child? And my kitchen appliances are in my living room? So cut me some slack, okay?

I need to try to sleep. I need all my energy tomorrow to go searching for some real Sudafed, not that PE crap that doesn't work.