Better at this than you

Another December has arrived and since I really enjoyed doing this last year, I'm doing it again. Suck on those taters. 

Shitballs. I'm going to start throwing up red and green peppermint flavored tinsel. I was already behind with day one. I had to retch myself over to the computer to find something - anything - that will somewhat entertain the child. 

Nope. She isn't enthused at all. Not one bit. 

And then we had to go and pull out that damnable elf. The elf that is never on the shelf. WTF is up with that? The little shit should be called Elf Anywhere But on the Shelf. 

By the way, we were wrong for two years. "Cal" as Ivy named her in 2012, is actually named "Cow." Which is completely appropriate. And because Cow is such a bitch, she brought chocolate, soap, and a stupid ball that lights up. Thank you Hallmark for making and marketing this unnecessary shit. I fell perfectly into your trap. Fuck you. 

Mental note for next year, ditch the damned book because, even though it was demanded of me to read the book, the rules set forth in said book will not be followed. 

And because I am The Mother of All Mothers and better at it than you, Ivy entertained herself on the iPad with The Cow. 

And because that stupid elf isn't enough, I planned a little craft session because I really need a hole in my head. 

Read: I did everything in my power to have an ABSOLUTE ZERO type of mess. And.  It. Worked. Because, again, I'm a better mom than you are. 

It is also preferable for your ass to not be prepared at all and to do things on a whim. That kind of spontaneous shit is on the very top of a perfectionist's list. Yep. 

The beginning of the season wouldn't be complete without holiday cards. I decided this would be the year (after never doing this) that I would send out holiday cards. And hell to the no, I couldn't just write the addresses on them. I had to go and draw on them. 

Consider yourself trumped.

Sassily yours,

My ass