I recently headed to Toys R Us to finish up some Christmas shopping.

No, I was not buying for Dan. Although I did find a geeky K’nex thing that he probably would have liked, I didn’t want to buy my husband’s gift from a toy store.

It was a little harder to shop this time because I didn’t have any clue as to what the kids wanted. Child #1 is a 7-year-old boy. When I asked for advice from a “toy expert” (seriously, it says it on his shirt!) he recommended anything that made a mess, made noise or had a million parts. My next question was what can I get a 7-year-old boy that WILL NOT MAKE HIS PARENTS HATE ME? Turns out, that’s a much shorter list. We ended up with a game and a magic kit. I can totally picture him showing off his magic skills on the playground and kids will be all jealous and he’ll be like “my favorite aunt bought it for me because she’s the bomb, yo.”

That’s how kids speak, right?

Child #2 was almost too easy to shop for. This little girl who’s turning 5 needed some Princess stuff, stat. We all know that I am good at buying cutesy girl presents that have abnormal amounts of glitter and pink. I found her gifts all in the same aisle practically but when I turned the corner, I was faced with this. It’s a pink Disney laptop. There was one left on the shelf and two ladies were literally bickering over it. A store employee stepped in to find a second one for the loons women and crisis was adverted. When I got to the check out line, one of them women happened to be right behind me. I gestured to the laptop and said “you’re going to make some young girl very happy.” She responded “yes, my 4-year-old will love it.”

… FOUR. YEAR. OLD?!

When I was four, I’m fairly sure my parents were hiding some of my Christmas gifts and rewrapping them for my birthday in March. Had I been given a laptop, I probably would have tried to throw it like a frisbee.

Anyway, child #3 is a year and a half. I fell in love with this little toy that says the name of fish and plays classical music. And then because I didn’t want my relatives to hate me, I also purchased books that made no music, had no flashing lights and were not annoying at all. Spoilsports.

When I arrived home, I triumphantly showed the gifts to Dan. As I piled them up in mini towers, Dan looked quizzically at them.

Dan: What are these for?
Me: Christmas, of course!
Dan: You’re already buying the Christmas gifts?
Me: *in a slight panic* There’s only 2 weeks until Christmas! I still have to wrap all the gifts, finish my finals, put up the decorations, prepare the house for my parents’ visit, send out Christmas cards, ship these gifts across the country, figure out something you want that won’t cost a fortune and plan merriment and festivities with all of my friends. *wheeze*
Dan: Is this a bad time to tell you that the 20 foot tree in the backyard blew over?

More on that later, after I am finished breathing into a paper bag.

A friend is writing a paper about the psychology of death. She called to ask me a few questions as research on how people view the topic. One of her questions was if I think about death on a daily basis or not. Well, I hadn’t until you asked that. Thanks a lot, Jen.

Anyway, her questions led to me contemplating the after life. I have a very specific view of heaven. It involves prancing puppies, cuddly kittens and an unlimited amout of glitter glue. HD Tivos would be liberally sprinkled across the landscape and Christmas decorations would be twinkling in the background.

As I was silently thinking about this last night, I emerged from my thoughts and whispered to Dan “I love Christmas.” A normal person would question why this sudden revelation had escaped my lips but no, not Dan. He nods and replied “I know Sweetie, I know.” He then turned back to his game as if this sort of thing happens all the time. As if I normally spout out random tidbits of information involving my fondness for Christmas. (And puppies, and kittens and glitter glue.)

This can’t be healthy. Maybe there’s a self-help group that meets about obsessions with the holidays?

Hello. My name is Sara and I am a Christmas-aholic.

Do you like how this post went from views on mortality to my obsession with Christmas? That’s called talent, people.

I have always been a big fan of Halloween. Costumes, acting like a kid, getting free candy…what’s not to love? The past two years have been almost Halloween-less for us. Last year, a good friend of mine got married the day after so her rehearsal stuff was on Halloween day. The year before, Dan and I were honeymooning it up in Disney World the day before and were too tired to go out on Halloween night.

This year I want to have a Halloween party. I want all of my friends to be forced to arrive at our place in costume and mingle with masks on. I want everyone to outwardly groan when Monster Mash starts playing, but secretly be dancing on the inside. I want our fruit punch to have fake eyeballs in it and our cupcakes to be decorated like little tombstones.

So…if someone could come over and bake these elaborate cupcakes, that would be great.

As I was describing my Halloween party plan to a coworker, there was a long moment of silence. “You’re already thinking about Halloween?” I replied yes, but defended myself by saying that I think of Christmas year round and had even blogged about it last week. There was another long pause.

“You’re not helping your case, crazy lady.”

It’s 103 out today and I’m contemplating costumes and Christmas. Maybe I am crazy.