Dear public at large,
Why do in-laws choose Christmas to be completely antagonistic? It's as if they didn't have 364 other days of the year to be insulting. Take, for example, this year's holiday experience. Despite several attempts to ask Team FIL/MIL to please, PLEASE not buy our children gifts other than books because they have all that they need (or want), here it comes. Pile, after PILE, of meaningless plastic crap that the kids don't have time to focus on in the moment, let alone for weeks and months to come.
I hear you out there, general public. "But you should just be grateful that they're willing to buy them something." "Must be nice having to complain about having more than you want and neeeEEEEEeeeEEed." This is all well and good to point out until it's you sweating and cursing and wheezing trying to cram the amount of STUFF into the entire trunk/hatch area of an SUV. (Keep in mind that piles of nondescript unsentimental toys will be hereby referred to as STUFF.) For two children. TWO.
This all happens on Christmas Day. At least if we met a week ahead of time I could pivot and bring 90% of said STUFF to the Rescue Mission or Toys for Tots or ANYWHERE other than into our home. You know who needs still-in-box children's toys on December 26? NO ONE. Because all the other parents out there are trying to figure out where to put all of their own new useless crap their own in-laws graciously bestowed on them.
I'm not sure this would bother me as much if it wasn't repeatedly deferred ahead of time. Imagine you were invited to a friend's birthday party. Specifically, they requested 'no gifts.' It's there. Right on the invitation. But you willfully ignore the host's requests because "well, it just wouldn't be a birthday without presents!!" This. This makes you a huge, rude jerk.
Myriad of excuses given by my in-laws upon seeing my open-mouth, eye-twitching glare at the cascade of STUFF for our children below the tree:
1. *shrug* Sorry!
2. It's ok. You have a big old house - I'm sure you'll find the room.
3. Well, she needs a desk in her room. (how would they know this? They've never been in her room.)
4. By the time you had asked us to not get presents (which time? the 4th or 5th?) they were already on the way. (Then RETURN THEM WHEN THEY ARRIVE.)
Yes, I understand I am belaboring the point, but that's what diaries are for. Completely belaboring your own personal feelings so that you don't murder/insult your husband out of misdirected rage. I'm sure these sites have saved countless lives and marriages.
I'm hoping to find someone out there who also had to suffer through seeing their children gifted something that resembles a light-up, song-repeating dog toy. You know what I'm referencing. The ones where you pinch their little arms or limbs or flippers and they thrash about on a carpet like an unmedicated epileptic. And you try with all your might to bury them amongst the 80 similar robotic devils that your in-laws own themselves, only to be stopped halfway exiting their door to have it thrust back into your arms gyrating and lighting away with a "Oh! You forgot this!" YES...I DID, DIDN'T I...
Our kids are great. Really. And they don't need more. They got their one toy they each asked for for Christmas and are enamored with it. Current plan is to see if any one thing is asked about from the barely contained Amazon avalanche within the car over the next 3-5 days. Ideas for what to do with the others?