The Many Ways The Holidays Make Me Cray Cray

Tis the season for decking the halls and drunk wrangling your uncle into a cab before your aunt files for divorce. That’s right, it’s Christmas. The season of giving. The season of wrapping gifts, paper cuts and scrambling to find those last second teacher’s gift to thank your child’s educators for putting up with them. While the holidays are a wonderful time of year, with fleeting moments of joy, they can also make people a little insane. I am one of those people. Let me tell you all about the many ways the holidays make me cray cray.


  • Holiday shopping – Walking behind people having a long conversation in the stores. Snails pace. Just trying to get around them to grab that one perfect mug for your aunt Beatrice. Waiting in line behind someone with the plague, coughing into the air as their cough droplets sprinkle everywhere like freshly fallen toxic snow. Stressing over what to buy for everyone, because they seem to have every damn thing and I just want to put my money towards a well-earned vacation rather than buying a stupid gift they probably won’t even use.
  • Holiday baking – Heating up the house, sweating over the oven, attempting to make holiday deliciousness while the kids scream about having to share the TV remote in the background. Getting phone calls from my family asking for extra baking for their family parties as I cry into the holiday rice krispies. NEVER HAVING ENOUGH STORAGE CONTAINERS FOR MY HOLIDAY BAKING and sending my husband out to get more only for him to return with a tiny one that one cookie doesn’t fit in.
  • Expecting my husband to help – The holidays have never been his forte, but he sure loves to reap the benefits. ALL I ASK is that he helps with the outdoor decorations. “I will do it later” always ends up meaning: “I will do it one Christmas before I die.” So out I trudge into the snow to attempt to do it myself and somehow ALWAYS end up smacking my god damned thumb with a hammer.
  • Teachers Gifts – I always. ALWAYS. Forget about these things until the very last second. I could literally have the words “Teachers Gifts” tattooed on my forehead and yet I still wouldn’t remember until the last day of school before their holiday break. I used to scramble to bake up some extra treats, peanut free of course, and send them in cute little cellophane bags I had laying around BUT the last few years NOTHING HOME BAKED is allowed at school. SO, instead I run around like a chicken with my head cut off attempting to find something that doesn’t assume they are alcoholics and pick myself up a case of beer on the way home.
  • The constant stress – There is so much stress. STREEEEESSSSS. It is everywhere. Sure, people say: “Don’t forget to take time for you…” but that rarely works. Have you ever tried to take time for you while you are making mental lists of all the zillion things you have to do? Yeah, not fucking relaxing. SO instead, I just. Stress. I become stress.
  • The constant eating – Sure, I could stop. I baked it though. I cooked it though. So I am going to inhale it like I haven’t seen food before. Then, I am going to gain winter weight. Weight which, who am I kidding? Will still be here for the holidays next year because working out is almost as stressful as the holidays themselves.
  • Elf on the shelf – I subjected myself to this fucking task years ago. What a mistake that was. These little assholes have run out of ideas now. Every single night I am forced to be the Picasso of elf on the shelf and create a masterpiece out of nothing… and I am so done. I kind of want to throw them in the garbage and call it a day but then the kids would cry and that would make everything worse.

The holidays, while I love them, make me cray cray. I can’t wait to write my new years resolutions either. *EYEROLL* So while everyone is ho ho hoing and enjoying the season, I will just be over here in a corner, rocking back and forth waiting for the hustle and bustle of this holidays to end.


Jen is a 32 year old work at home mother of two wonderful little cherubs age 7 and 10. She writes for with a 7 year old on her head, a dog barking at nothing and a 10 year old making weird noises in her ear. Send Wine.