Welcome to Monday, dear reader. We have one week before Christmas. As I sit writing to you this morning, I have a long to-do list running through my head, making a lot of background noise. My tree sits in the living room, half decorated with no angel on top. The tree has already taken its annual tumble. Every year, I say, “Next year, we are getting a new Christmas tree stand,” every year, I forget until the Christmas tree falls in the middle of the night…sigh. I don’t have a single cookie baked nor a single present wrapped. My laundry is piled high, and that damn laundry fairy has apparently taken a sabbatical. The dirt on my floor, mixed with dog hair, now has a bit of sparkle to it, thanks to all the glitter from Christmas decorations. My refrigerator is stuffed full of ingredients for our Christmas Eve and Christmas Day meals. I have vowed not to feed my family until the holidays because I have no room for leftovers or common everyday ingredients. I also hate the shuffle of said ingredients to get to things like milk for my coffee and yogurt for The Bean’s lunch. I believe The Bibbed Wonder will waste away to nothing if he is forced to eat cereal for dinner, even one night. I’m feeling a bit Grinch-like, I must admit.
I struggle to strike a balance between housekeeping, farm work, and the business. I am so grateful you all have made it necessary for me to spend the majority of my time in the studio. I enjoy what we do and working with The Bibbed Wonder. However, when I enter the house, the laundry is a mile high, the counters are littered with clutter, totes filled with holiday decorations make maneuvering the living room an event from Survivor, and my socks are covered with dog hair and glitter. I get a bit overwhelmed.
Rather than wallow in woe-is-me, I am so put upon, let’s try on our grateful bonnet to see how it fits. The positives: I have a home to clean, clothes to wash, food to shuffle, the tools to make cleaning easier, dogs who love me, a family to feed, the joy of holiday celebrations, a business to run, and a farm to maintain. For real, my life is filled with blessings, and my heart is full. When I feel overwhelmed, it helps to sit quietly for a few minutes and reflect upon how blessed I truly am and how God works wonders in my favor every single day.
In the grand scheme of things, the decorations, or lack of them, don’t make the holiday. My house being in perfect order does not make my family whole or create memories. Actually, it does create memories, but I don’t want The Bean to remember me being stressed and bitchy over minute details. I don't want to miss the good stuff because I am too focused on chores and work. There will always be dirt, dog hair, laundry, dishes, and an endless list of things that need to be done. That is simply life, dear reader.
Let me tell you what I don’t regret. I don’t regret taking my favorite kids to see Gremlins on a Saturday night in a classic theater. I don’t regret snuggling up and watching a holiday movie I have watched one hundred times before. I don’t regret spending a day shopping, laughing, trying new things, and going to new places with my favorite humans. I don’t regret quiet walks around the property I love with the dog I adore. I don’t regret dropping all responsibilities for a few hours to attend an Anne of Green Gables-themed tea party hosted by my sweet friends. I don’t regret making good memories with my only child.
It does not escape me that this time is fleeting. My bean is soon to be fifteen. In three more years, she is off to God knows where to make her way in the world. I may not have the opportunity to sit and talk with her, spend time with her, or do any of a dozen small things with her. Soon, my time with her will be a memory, and we will move into a different stage of life—a stage where we may not always be together.
So, as I sit looking at my tree with no angel, a basket of laundry on the coffee table, totes of decorations littering my living room, and glitter and dog hair covering my floor, instead of feeling mean and overwhelmed, I will remember to feel blessed. Our family is whole and healthy. We are together, safe, warm, and fed, with beds to sleep in, clothes to keep us warm, a roof over our heads, and surrounded by love. Turn on the television for a harsh reminder of how very blessed we are this holiday season and beyond. In the grand scheme of things, complaining about a half-decorated tree, glitter-covered socks mingled with dog hair, and piles of laundry feels petty and shallow.
On this last Monday before Christmas, stay safe, be smart, remember your blessings and what really matters, and don’t stress…baby Jesus was born in a barn; your house doesn’t have to be perfect, and for heaven’s sake, wash your hands.
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