I could tell you about how my 6 year old called me fat, but I’d rather not delve into it, thanks.
I could tell you what doing your Christmas shopping does to your living room, but I simply don’t want to think about it.
I could tell you about how I’ve just realized that my business has to take off or we’re not going to make it, but my blood pressure just rose.
I could tell you about how since I’ve not decorated since we won’t be here, my holiday spirit has been zapped to zero. Zilch. But that’s so depressing.
Instead, I’ll tell you about colds. I have one just trying to pop up. My youngest is fighting one off – in fact I’m waiting to wake him up and see if he’s going to school today. This normally wouldn’t be a big deal. Everyone gets colds, and we’re not a terribly sicky family. However. I’ve mentioned that we’re going to the in-laws for Christmas. What I haven’t mentioned is that my fil barricades himself in his office and won’t come out if someone is sick. What I haven’t mentioned is that when my kids are sick around the in-laws, I receive books about how to cook with the proper nutrition. Not to mention there will be other cousins the same age, and you know how the cold spreads like the plague – I don’t want them getting sick too. And the 6 hour drive with sick children? No thank you. Please dip me in hot oil instead.
COUNTDOWN. We need to all be well. Period. Full stop. There is no other option. I simply don’t want to deal with any other possibility.
We are the same, doing a half-asses Christmas over here, and so sick of not being home for this most homey of holidays. Wishing you good health karma.