Which post should I post?

When I was having trouble sleeping last evening I crafted a long, rambling post that I planned on putting up here first thing this morning. I had an interesting evening with Bugaboo that I was going to share, with some spirituality and Autism complaints in between. As I browse the blog world this morning, I am not seeing complaints. I see wonderful memories, happy holiday recollections and warm feelings. People sharing their best (and worst) memories and emotions. Writing about real life. No one is kvetching for the umpteenth time about how much it sucks that their kid doesn't talk to them.

I've been in a teeny little funk the past two weeks. Between Bugaboo's recent regression with seizure control and my recent UTI I've had enough to deal with emotionally. Let's not forget the fact that my fridge died last night for the THIRD TIME IN THREE MONTHS!!!! I've lost more food and had to clean it out and bring it all to my brother's house three blocks away. I am happy that we are going to see our relatives over the holiday and looking forward to our upcoming trip. I am better organized this year than I have ever been. So why do I feel so sad? Why is it that I cannot allow myself to enjoy this? Is it because every year that goes by is another slap in the face, a reminder that my child hates to open gifts, cannot call my name when he needs me and does not have a clue about what Christmas is, other than flashing lights that start his seizures?

So, which post do I choose?

The I'm-in-a-funk-so-why-not-bring-y'all-down-with-me-'cause-I'm-sad-
and-picking-on-everyone-including-the-kids-and-darling-post? OR the one where I tell you about all of my loving Christmas memories, even the ones that my brother and I were in comas on the couch from the flu and couldn't even open our gifts? Or do I just point you over to my sister's blog, who explained it all for me very nicely (except the convent part!)?

Y'all know how I feel about the whole autism/seizures/Bugaboo thing. And y'all also know that I suffer from SAD and it is especially bad at this time of year (because, after all, today is the SHORTEST DAY of the year!). From here on it the days get longer and brighter. It's just a coinkydink that winter solstice has to fall at the same time as Christmas, right?

Ok. I'm gonna try this happy stuff. Here goes:

My favorite Christmas memory is my parents making us get dressed up in make-shift robes and veils and turning the hassock over and putting a blanket in it and putting my baby brother (or a foster baby or doll, depending on what we had that year) in it, and my older sister's dressing as Mary and Joseph, and me dressed as a shepherd, and my brothers dressed as Kings and my little sister as an angel (we also switched roles from time to time) and my mom banging away carols on the piano that we all had to sing because my parents had invited my grandparents over to see a real live nativity in our 9X12 living room (with like, fifteen people crammed into it). They even made poor Cricket (our ancient Samoyed that lived to be eighteen) into a horse or donkey or something.

I also loved putting the manger scene on the top of the piano, which is the exact location for it in my house to this day. I also remember hanging the garland and lights and decorations WITH A STAPLE GUN, PEOPLE!!! Yes, if my mother wasn't using a staple gun to hang this stuff she was duct-taping it. And if that all wasn't enough, we moved our furniture around and brought my Dad's Lionel train platform down to put the tree on (in said 9X12 room) and my parent's stapled that corrugated fakebrick paper around it and the platform sat on saw horses. And they hid stuff under it. To this day I love the smell of those little smoke pellets from the engine and the sight of the milk truck guy throwing a little metal milk bottle out every time the train passed the switch.

How about the year that we knew we were getting Star Wars action figures and they put a different person in each stocking so we HAD TO SHARE because the millenium falcon was addressed to three of us? Or the year that my parents got smart, put the presents in a box and just covered the top with a sheet of wrapping paper (my parents rarely wasted money on paper, they'd rather save the money for gifts!). Or the years my parents wanted to go to early Christmas mass instead of the vigil, which meant we didn't EAT or open gifts until about 10 am? Excruciating!!!!

See? I can do it! I can be pleasant and happy! WOOHOO! This stuff works!!!
(The management apologizes for the lack of sleep of the writer. The writer has been forced to drink a cup of English Breakfast Tea with Demerara sugar in order to put the writer back on track. Any opinions expressed by the writer are not the responsibility of the management. A moose once bit my sister.)