I really want to put on the perfect Christmas, but something always happens. I want to be Martha Stewart and bake a steady, never-ending stream of cookies and strudel, make homemade ornaments, and hand- carve special treats for my kids out of wood that I found in my backyard. I want to hand flock my Christmas tree and have special Christmas dishes, kitchen towels and throw pillows for my couch. Oh, I am such a Christmas failure.
The reality is that some years, the ordeal of getting out the tree and decorations is such a chore for me and I am more like the Grinch than I want to admit. I have had better years than this one. Despite all the Christmas parties, I have had a hard time getting in the Christmas spirit. Last year, K and I went out on black Friday and got almost all of our gifts, and I was smug all season knowing that my basement hidey-hole was full of presents. It was so easy- all I had to do last year was drink eggnog and eat cookies. This year I have done practically nothing. And that stresses me out. I am feeling distinctly stressed. But as K said to me this morning, “Don’t worry, these things always work out.”
And I guess they do. Laters.
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