Frozen dessert

Well, Santa, we’re nearing the big day and I can only speak for myself when I say, it’s going to be what it’s going to be and I haven’t got an ounce of energy left to care about what it isn’t going to be, so let’s get this holiday going and let the tinsel fall where it may.

So long as I am spending time with my little family, everything is right in my world. That’s my joy.

My gift to myself this year will be compassion for doing the best I could to make this holiday special, while accepting that I didn’t meet my unrealistically-high expectations to be perfect at this whole Christmas thing.  I’ll wrap that up in gratitude for all that I have, for the people (and pets) who love me, and for the simple things I am able to do to make them all feel loved back.

I didn’t coordinate a fancy meal. I’m still smart enough to let my mom, the ultimate holiday hostess, maintain her status. Somehow her genetic gifts didn’t trickle down to me. I’m hoping that osmosis will eventually make me as spectacular as she is at home décor, cooking, entertaining and basically everything she does. I mean, there’s still time, right?

Truth be told, I was put in charge of desserts for our family meal, which is ironic because I don’t bake, I don’t want to learn how to bake, and I rarely eat desserts. Needless to say, I dropped the ball on that task. I forgot to order pies from my favourite bakery. So, my family will have to enjoy treats that came out of a freezer box. Nobody will die.

I should warn you though, Santa, to mind the mess. My home is utter chaos at the best of times, so when you take a small home already overloaded with stuff and then drag in totes of Christmas decorations and pile those gems on the pre-existing stuff, requiring you to shove some of the extra stuff into the little room that is supposed to be your home office, but is currently the closet of excess, you have to learn to ignore the visual noise. Chaos for the win.

Also, watch where you step. Extension cords are a tripping hazard. I love holiday twinkle lights. Mind your step.

I have worked very hard not to hit the default button to feel inadequate at Christmas. It’s a pattern that needs to end. I love this holiday, but I am easily overloaded. I juggle more than most people see (just like most everyone else I know). Some people can do it all; I cannot. I accept that. To maintain my sanity in an anxious world at the most stressful time of year, I practiced moments of self-care this month, which means I took breaks, so I wouldn’t break. No apologies.

I managed the holiday budget and coordinated gifts. Everybody won’t get everything on their Christmas list because there is only so much to go around. Now that my children are grown, they understand that. Realism isn’t always romantic, but neither is debt. If I’ve taught them that, they’re already further ahead than I was at their age. Good enough.

I am grateful for how simple this Christmas will be.

Gotta go thaw out the desserts, Santa. Drive safe. Also, mind the rowdy rabbit in my living room. Bring a carrot. Don’t ask, just trust me on the carrot. I said chaos, right? My merry life.

Merry Christmas.

WriteOut of Her Mind