Norman Rockwell, Hallmark and even food network usually team up against me this time of year. The ever perfect, glowing Christmas vignettes of happy families set a bar way too high!. If I’m not “intentional” about bring “every thought captive,” those images can wreak havoc with my psyche---probably mine and every other mediocre mom, grandmom, entertainer/hostess who tries to do it all and do it perfectly.
This year, I thought I was well enough ahead to keep “perfection” at bay---I had my lists, I had 3 upcoming Christmas events semi- under “control,” plus I coordinated dental appt. to coincide with my break, scheduled lunch with a friend whom I don’t see often, revamped my schedule to accommodate 7 house guest (& maybe 6 more visitors, which I would love) ………….and then, I got sick. The kind of sick that you tend to feel in every part of your body. Not a pretty sick---but the “tummy bug” kind that requires the upchuck bucket and lots of t-paper. (TMI)
Here’s what I wrote with a freshly sharpened "Buddy and Charlotte" pencil on a Baylor Medical notepad (pencil & paper always my bedside décor, regardless of se
ason) Even when I couldn’t hold my head up, I scribbled between dozes so that I would remember ----Acceptance. Plans can change. Decorations can be incomplete. Casseroles can be served without paprika. The rolls can be Sister Schubert, not homemade---though (not to worry Mother) they will be served in a starched and ironed linen roll cover. If it’s a virus 24 hours isn’t forever. Blogs don’t have to be completed.I don’t have to choose feeling sorry for myself. I am cancelling that pity party invite. I am choosing to say Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night. So far, my night has been 12 hours of glorious sleep and I’m snuggling back under the covers for a long winter’s nap hoping that this throbbing will quit dancing in my head.
