I used to absolutely love this time of year. The lights, the friendliness, the magic and wonder… Let’s not forget ole Santa boy!

Now, I still love this time of year, and people say when you have kids you love it more, but I have a 16 month old son, and all I feel is guilt and (I’ll admit) jealousy.

We are in a rough patch financially, so we have been able to get zero (yes, you read that right… ZERO) presents for my little man. We don’t have the tree up. Our tree is only 3 ft tall because we can’t afford a big one. And we didn’t take him to see Santa this year because we truly have no time. I have nieces and nephews I would love to get gifts for as well, but I’m unable. I know that gifts aren’t necessary, but I WANT to give. I want to give to the people I love.

It makes me happy for other people when they talk about what they’ve gotten their children, because I wish I could. Or when they show me pictures of their home all decorated, with a beautiful big tree flooded with presents underneath. But there is a little piece of me that is just so envious.

I feel like such an unworthy mother. I can’t even get him one gift to open when I want to give him the world.



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