‘Tis the season, friends. But the real question is, the season for what? Will this be a month of joy and childlike delight or one of hellfire and emotional exhaustion? For me, at least, it could go either way.
Obviously, I’m hoping for the former. I want my kids to get along. I want our extended family gatherings to be drama-free. I want good weather and on-time Amazon deliveries. Mostly, I want everyone to be healthy and happy and appreciate what a relatively decent year 2023 has been (for once, I’d be OK with toxic positivity!). But really, what are the odds?
If history tells us anything, not good. While reflecting on Decembers past, I can vividly recall bouts of the flu ravaging our humble abode, fully decorated Christmas trees toppling perilously close to children, and a particular personal cryfest in a Chick-fil-A drive-thru after a disastrous Kohl’s run. I’ve had a basement flood destroy months’ worth of thoughtfully purchased gifts; a tinsel war that left my husband and I noncommunicative for days; and multiple dinner parties where no one should have been allowed to open that seventh bottle of wine (seriously, what were we thinking?). No way around it, the holidays are stressful. There are simply too many variables in play to ensure a net positive.
Although for your reading pleasure, I suppose a month filled with Yuletide hijinks would prove fruitful. I do have a knack for transcribing my pain and suffering into fun columns (you’re welcome!). For me and my sanity, however, I’m keeping my fingers crossed for less hellfire and emotional exhaustion and more joy and childlike delight.
Peace out.
