Christmas! Yay!

So, I love Christmas. I always have. I blame my amazing childhood with parents who loved me and my siblings, and especially a mother who always made Christmas a BIG DEAL.

As far back as my memory goes, my mother always did Christmas big. Even when we lived in a teeny apartment, my mom always made the place look like Santa's workshop had exploded in our living room. Our *tiny* Christmas tree would go up the day after Thanksgiving, without fail. She would string lights up all over our living room window and the front and back balconies. She sang Christmas carols, wrapped presents, and just went around infecting us all with the holiday spirit.

seriously, this was our *tiny* tree...

My mom also never let us forget that Christmas wasn't just about gifts and Christmas trees and lights... it was about God, about family, and about being together. It's something that sticks with me to this day... I can't begin to imagine a Christmas without my crazy family. Or a Christmas without all sorts of decorations all over the place.

The first Christmas that I was dating my darling husband, I found out that he hadn't decorated for Christmas in a few years... and that he didn't plan to that year. I was outraged. So outraged that I went out and bought him a tree complete with all sorts of ornaments, a stocking, lights for his balcony and all sorts of other Christmas decorations.

This year is our first year in our brand new house. Have I gone a little overboard decorating? You bet your ass I have. And you know what? My darling husband loves it... he loves it so much, he feeds into my craziness by buying me more Christmas decorations, and by making our little house look like a gingerbread house on steroids.

yup...our light bill is going to be a wee bit much...

There's nothing sexier than a man on a ladder stringing up Christmas lights on a cold, windy day and not complaining even once about it. God. I love my husband.

The Tick, Tick, Ticking of a Biological Clock...

I don't know when it happened. I don't know how it happened.... but I sincerely wish my biological clock hadn't turned on. Or, if it had to turn on, maybe it didn't need to be on full blast?

I have become an obsessive recorder of my menstrual cycle, of my expected ovulation days, of everything having to do with making a baby. Soon, my poor, darling husband will probably start calling me the sex Nazi... he'll be one of those men that doesn't look forward to sex, but feels like a slave to his irrational wife's desires for a baby. Dramatic? Possibly.

It frustrates me to think that there are people out there who don't want their babies, who will be horrible parents, but somehow they manage to keep having babies. It's when I stop to think about things like that, that I get angry and I want to lash out at everyone and everything.

I know I would make a good mommie... just like I know my darling husband would make a fabulous daddy. I light candles, I say prayers, I follow the craziest advice from any one of my friends that offer it up. Still, nothing. I try not to stress, and I tell myself I won't dwell on it but I know this is a lie. I know that I will still obsessively count the days until my next expected period, ovulation days, etc., etc.

I can't help it.

If anyone knows how to turn off a biological clock, please... let me know.