HAPPY NEW YEAR!! Shut the front door, it’s January. How are you doing so far this NEW YEAR?
Me? I’m doing fan-fubbing-tastic.
I got my workout in this morning. I’ve had enough green tea to flood a basement. I’ve put away 85% of the Christmas decorations. I’m getting back to work. And I have a smile on my face as big as my expanding post-holiday waistline. I’m not going to lie. The cheesy grin has a lot to do with the fact that the holidays are over.
“Ba-hum-big, Jackie” you say?
Oh I said it.
I’m glad the holidays are over! I’m relieved! Yahhhoooo!
Don’t get me wrong – we had a nice Christmas break. We made great memories with our kids in our new home. With my parents. With my in-laws. With all of our relatives. We hosted and hosted and hosted until I practically bled twinkling lights and festive platters.
We had some relatives decide to stay not one week, but two. And others stay not just two weeks, but three. I love them all. I’m grateful for them all.
But as of 11:35 a.m. last Thursday? Like the Griswald holiday turkey, I was done. Dried to the bone, done. I’m not just RELIEVED the holidays are over. I’m fan-fubbing-ecstatic! OK, so it just so happens I experienced this ba-hum-bug revelation on my way home from the airport. Dropping my folks off at the airport, to be exact. Now, I love those two people who brought me into this world more than you could ever know. They are sweet people with big hearts. And I did everything possible to make sure their visit was awesome. From decorating a mini American Girl Doll-themed Christmas tree with my daughter to investing in a new Keurig, we did it all. And they appreciated it. (And mentioned anything I happened to forget. ;))
But there’s a rhetorical reason we should keep visits down to “Ten days tops,” as my husband says. “Ten days tops,” I always nod in agreement, cringing when I receive the actual reservations. I start to get a holiday facial twitch from all the stress of trying to make everyone happy. I try to control it by downing one Lindt truffle every 30 minutes.
My father will make any excuse possible to extend a trip to see his grandchildren. (Who he still thinks are 3 and 6. And me? In his eyes, I think I’m about 13.) I adore my parents dearly. But there is a point during a visit when you’re done. I’m not sure if it was Day 2 when my mom realized she forgot her prescription cough medication in Florida or Day 7 when I woke to the sound of my own snoring on the sofa at 7:30 p.m. (Or Day 10 when my dog ate an entire platter of assorted cheese, crackers and pepperoni.) Son of a…that’s another post for another time.
With the kids home for the break, relatives coming and going everyday, the dog humping the new sofa cushions, (one child home sick with flu-like symptoms an entire week before vacation), and house renovations going on during holiday prep time, I was done.
I could not wrap another gift, vacuum up another ball of Marley hair, clean another toilet, change another bed, or contemplate lunch, dinner or appetizers.
I had a migraine the size of Miami.
All day long on New Year’s Day, after forcing in a mini workout, I fought that gnarly headache. I sat in bed with my daughter watching crap TV for most of the day. And it felt like heaven.
Somewhere, in between over-dosing on Lindt truffles and forgetting to work out for several days in a row, I lost it.
And today, as I dropped my daughter off at school and proceeded to have a celebratory rock concert in my car, I realized it wasn’t all that bad.
We had a lot of fun.
We made great memories.
We had a nice time. I love my family and wouldn’t change them for the world.
I’ve come to the realization that the holidays are a lot like giving birth. You forget everything as soon as the next one comes around. You forget about all the stress, the pain (in the arse-ness) and the emotional exhaustion. You look forward to making more It’s-A-Wonderful-Life and Bing-Crosby-Christmas-Carol holiday memories with loved ones.
Life is short. Life is good. Life really is wonderful.
Here’s hoping you have a wonderful, fun-fubbing-tastic 2015!