Merry (???) Christmas

This is a tale of a girl, who thought that she might be able to get back into the good graces of her family. You see this girl is quite unlike the rest of her family. This girl graduated high school, went to college, and now works in a very respectable profession helping people. She married her best friend and they live happily with thier kittens. What is so wrong with this girl, you say? That is a question that this girl is still trying to figure out for herself.
*Author's note - the above preface should be read with sarcasm.*
So much to say about Christmas, but lets get to it. I had to work Christmas Eve, which sucks hugely because I got to wake up Christmas morning with 3 strangers instead of my husband. Billy had to work Christmas Eve also, so I knew by the time I got home he would be nestled all snug in the bed with visions of sugar plums dancing in his head. I have been so on edge the last week or two because my sister wanted to have the "family" over at my mom's house (read - dragon's lair, enemy territory, etc) for Christmas brunch. Since I am eternally willing to do whatever to make other people happy without paying so much as an iota of thought to what might make me happy, I agreed to come over and bring a breakfast casserole.
So, I am driving home, thinking all the while, that I'm not so sure that going to my mother's is the greatest idea. I call my sister and voice this concern to her (after wishing her a Merry Christmas) and she cops an attitude with me and asks if she should stop and get eggs herself. (Remember, I was supposed to bring a breakfast casserole.) Well, I was so shocked by her response and obvious disregard for how I might be feeling.
*History note - I still haven't spoken with my mother since I got married 3 and a half months ago. I did send a birthday gift to my mother through my sister on the 23rd, and got no response.*
So, I go home, but I'm not really sure what to do at this point. I really want to celebrate Christmas with Billy, but I know that he has only been asleep for about 2 hours and I really also want him to go with me to my mom's so I don't have to go alone. I let him sleep while I watch TV and bake the damn casserole. I wake him up around 10 (so he's had 4 hours of sleep) and beg him to come with me to my mom's. We load up the following - the freaking casserole, 3 presents for Nicky, 2 presents for Jaela, 1 present for my brother, 2 for my sister and 2 for my mom.
Nicky and Jaela got toys from Aunt Sissy and Uncle Billy. My brother wanted a bikini top for his jeep, and for my sister - I paid for her entry into the Disney Princess Half Marathon, I also got her a jewelry box and a white gardenia candle. My mom recently purchased for herself a camera and wanted a tripod for it. That is what I got for her as well as a rechargeable battery charger with 4 batteries.
Well, we walk into the house and it's like nobody even cared that we were there! We are standing in the middle of the living room which looks like a hurricane hit it. My arms are full of gifts and Billy is holding the G.D. casserole and no one is making any attempt to help us. Finally, I am able to drop the kids gifts on the floor in front of them and Billy makes his way past the mess to the kitchen to put the hot casserole down.
Still, no one has really said anything to us, they are busy doing their own thing, which I might add is playing with the gifts they have already opened, and eating breakfast. Which, I guess they couldn't wait for us to get there to start.
I think at this point is when I started to feel physically ill. My sister hands Billy and me a couple of unwrapped shirt boxes that contain - you guessed it - shirts. Mine were identical except for the color, short sleeve with a layered cami from Wal-mart. Billy got shirt with a funny saying on it and an UnderArmor shirt for work. My sister then points out to me a wrapped package sitting on the shelf next to me and says, "That's for you too." The package is wrapped in gold foil paper and in my mother's handwriting across the front - Kristi. Sitting underneath the package is an unwrapped pack of ladies bikini underwear, but those weren't labeled so I wasn't sure if they were meant for me or not, but since I do not need underwear, I decide that they are not for me. I unwrap the package and it is ---------------
A. Pair. Of. Pink. House. Shoes.
But not only, a pair of pink house shoes, they are SIZE 11!!! I do not wear a size 11, more like an 8 1/2. As my family graciously opens the gifts that they wanted, the gifts that they told me they would like to have. I stare in disbelief at the pair of too big house shoes and wonder if these were really meant for someone else.
I cannot even express to you how hurt my feelings were.
I looked at Billy and asked him if he was ready to go. He says yes and we get the hell out of there. We head home to celebrate our own Christmas, which is difficult because what should be a happy and joyous day is now going to be forever engrained in my heart as a sad day, that my family made me feel like I wasn't part of them. As I lie in my husbands lap in front of our beautifully decorated tree bawling my eyes out at how inconsiderate my family is he strokes my hair and tells me that he is just so happy to have me at Christmas. I can't even imagine how he is feeling, knowing that my family has made me hurt so badly. I love him so much, and am so happy that he is my husband, my best friend, my family. I cannot consider "those" people, my family. I have done nothing to earn the hurt that they heap upon my heart. I have tried to do every thing in my physical and emotional power to make them love me and all it does it come back to hurt.
When people ask me if I had a good Christmas, I lie. I tell them that it was wonderful, time well spent with family. LIES, ALL LIES!!!
I hate Christmas. Next year, Billy and I are going somewhere far away, with no family and we are going to enjoy ourselves, which is what we should have done in the first place.