Bah Humbug

I am looking out the picture window here at work at a transformed world; it snowed yesterday and is now really, really cold; for at least a day or so, the drab browns and grays of winter are covered up, and it looks like Christmas.  Unfortunately, even the snow has failed to lift my spirits; I am feeling decidedly bah-humbuggy this year, and I can't seem to shake it for some reason.

As the single mom of four kids, money is always an issue for us at Christmas time, and this year is no different; I can't spend money I don't have, therefore the presents are slim.  There are, of course, the obligatory socks and underwear, as well as a couple of much-needed clothing items for each of them.  I belong to a couple of survey sites where I can redeem points for merchandise, and with these I have been able to get each of the something fun-books for Owen, CD's for the two teens, and a DVD for Sam.  However, that is pretty much it.  I don't know which is worse-the fact that I can't afford presents or the fact that kids know I can't, therefore don't hope for anything.

I know what Christmas is supposed to be about.  As an adult, it is pretty easy to preach the fact that Jesus was born and it isn't about presents, but kids don't care.  I know that my kids also know all about the spiritula/religious aspect of the holiday, and they appreciate that.  However, when you are a kid, it IS all about the presents; it is about going to school and listening to all of their friends talk about their Wii's and their XBox and their new clothes and the games, while all the while hoping that they don't get asked about what they got.  In the past, both Eli and SAm have lied about it, because it is embarrassing and sahemful for them.  As a parent, it sucks just as bad.  My kids are by no means spoiled; they have clothes to wear, food to eat, all of that stuff that kids need to survive.  Every year, I hope that I will be able to shave enough $$ off of the budget in order to get them at least one great thing.  After all, I have to tell them no the other 11.5 months out of the year, it would be so lovely, once, to say "Yes."

I belong to another online community for moms, and we were debating the issue of healthcare reform; I am not getting into THAT here, but one woman's comment was that people are poor by choice, and that there is no reason why "they" should get big tax refunds every year.  I know she didn't mean this to be directed specifically at me, but I still took it personally, and I know that this is part of why I am so sad about lack of money this year.  I know what my life must look like from the outside; I know what people think of my kids for being in such a poor, single parent family.  I know all of that.  It doesn't matter that I came from absolutely nothing five years ago when my husband left us (by nothing I mean, quite literally, nothing ) and now have, at least, a good job and a home to live in and food on the table every night.  It doesn't matter that I make good money, but that I do not get child support or help with daycare or any of that.  It doesn't matter that it costs me more than my rent to provide childcare for the two youngest so that I can go to work every day.  It is so easy for her, and about a billion other people in the world, to look at me and tell me it is all my fault.  They don't get to see what happens inside our home, where I wear holey underwear and no socks so that my kids can have new ones.  They don't see the look on my kids' faces when I tell them no, you can't take basketball or dance or soccer because I can't afford it.  No, you can't have the shoes you want because I can get shoes at Payless for $10.  No, you can't have soda/chips/candy because it is too expensive.  They don't see the plain and simple fact that my husband chose to leave me and my children, not just with nothing but with debts that are insurmountable, creditors that feel free enough to come clean out my accounts so often that I can no longer HAVE a bank account, drug dealers calling me in the middle of the night telling me that they will come kill my kids if I don't come up with the money my ex owes them (though this hasn't happened for about four years now, and stopped after I had my home and family under police protection for some months).  I didn't CHOOSE to live this way, and I want to tell this person, should she happen to read my blog, that she has no fucking idea.

So.  Christmas is in two weeks now, and I hope I will get out of this slump before them.  Even though my kids don't expect or hope for presents from me, they do expect me to be there, to be strong and happy and loving; those are the things I have taught them to rely on from me.  Full bellies, warm clothes, and a lot of love.  It doesn't help now; they hate me some days because they don't have a better target.  But maybe, just maybe, someday this stuff will matter more.