Ranting time: I would really like to show up for Christmas Eve festivities and not be sleep deprived. Or have a headache. Seems like every year I commit myself to too much pre-Christmas activity and then I wind up too tired to even enjoy the holiday itself.
The thing is: I don't have to do most of it. They are things I've signed up for, things I want to do. In spite of my husband still ailing from foot surgery. And my nasty head cold. And ugly weather that causes the boys to miss a day of school.
Part of me likes the busy-ness. The hustle-bustle of the season. The feeling of accomplishing a lot in a short amount of time. The "yuuuummm" look on people's faces when they taste something I've baked or made them for Christmas (wait, have I ever made any Christmas gifts?). Finding the right gift, taking the boys to holiday activities, baking...I love all that.
Then a minute later I'm like...why did I need to go to all that trouble? No one is grading me on my Christmas efforts. No sugar cookies this year? D MINUS. That gift wrapping job is mediocre! C Plus. Slaved over a countertop painting meringue snowmen with fondant scarves? A PLUS!
Yeah. Not happening. This year or ever. And yet maybe it does in my own little head. Maybe I'm a little proud of all that baking I did when Alex was only three months old. Or maybe I feel like since I stay home I should get more holiday stuff done (okay, that doesn't make sense even to me).
So anyway, for me it's a constant struggle between doing what I enjoy and simply overdoing the joy. I have to find the happy place that's comfortable.
And allows me to keep my eyes awake during Christmas Eve Mass.