Now don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love Christmas. I love the tree, the fancy door wreath, I love the shopping and the wrapping and the planning. I enjoy the entertaining and the friendship and the love.
But I find it exhausting. I also find it a bit lonely if I am honest. I guess we always go back to the fact that I feel the loneliest when I am surrounded. This gets worst when those people are my closest family and friends. I think it is probably because of the vast amount of pressure I put on myself to be this super wife. To be the mother who can plan and cook an insane Christmas dinner when I will have worked Christmas eve. That the house will shimmer and sparkle like something out of ‘homes & Gardens’ The children will unwrap a small mountain of gifts and I will feel guilty.
The guilt will come from a variety of sources. Based mainly on the fact that another year has passed, they have grown yet another year older ( when of course I haven’t aged a day) and I am missing it. I try every day, every week and every month to slow down and spend more time with them but somehow the days, weeks and months pass by and we are all still in the same situation as we were before.
As the new year rolls around, this will all be worse – I do hate new years eve. Like the pressure to have a great time is so insane! I’ll likely cook (again) and sink a few bottles of Veuve, but I will be relieved when midnight has passed.
It seems like it is the time of year for judgement. Though I don’t feel like I spend much time judging others, I am definitely my own worst critic.
I will sign off by saying – I promise this will be a happy time at my house and I hope it will be at yours too.