Egad! Not posting for five days certainly does a number to your traffic stats. I’m hoping it’s because all you readers are also recovering from a Christmas Hangover. Not that you’ve written me off.
But I’m back and thought I’d give you a run down of my take aways from this year’s holiday season. In no particular order of importance…
• If you think it’s okay to wait several days to go to the pharmacy to pick up the drugs that keep your colon from creating a scene at the Christmas party because you have to go home and bake a thousand more cookies (which you didn’t even actually do), you would be WRONG. Lesson learned. I need drugs to survive outside of my bed without a heating pad.
• It’s okay to skip some traditions. That includes the ceremonial trip to Santa’s Village. Although it might not be the strongest of traditions since this is only her third Christmas, I still struggled with this. Because I am a Type A, we have to finish what we started, kinda gal. But after last year’s photo, I just wasn’t up to fighting the crowds (and my daughter) to torture her for tradition’s sake.
• It doesn’t matter how much you plan in advance, there is always that last week before the big day when you are running around covered in marshmallow fluff and mod podge, finishing up 15 handmade gifts, buying last-minute stocking stuffers, and trimming Christmas cards because you failed to measure them before buying envelopes. Envelopes that you went to six stores to find.
• Four small children opening presents in a 16×8 space the night before Christmas will lead to anxiety attacks. There is no avoiding it and no controlling it because it is pure chaos.
• It’s not always a good thing. The gingerbread cheesecake was a major fail. Don’t tell me that something needs to bake for 55-60 minutes when it really takes 90. Not cool, Martha, not cool.
• Christmas Day at home is #ROCKSTARAWESOME. We slept in, leisurely opened presents, threw a pork loin in the crock pot, burned a fake log in the fireplace, and watched football. I think it was my perfect day.
• A two-year old’s favorite gifts will include a plastic Hello Kitty hand mirror (which will be shoved into your face 564 times per day), a Dollar Tree plastic microphone (also shoved into your face at a *slightly* lesser rate), and a cardboard box. I can’t say I’m surprised by her choices. However, I am surprised that I repeatedly spend months agonizing over the perfect gifts when she’d be just as happy thrown into a dumpster to play with trash.