A Christmas Eve Come Apart

This is a re-telling of a Christmas Eve that I hope I never experience again. Three years ago.

It’s approximately 17 minutes into Christmas Day 2013, give or take a few seconds. And I should be in bed but there’s a cake in the oven {no-not a “bun”; a cake}. I should be in bed especially since I didn’t go to bed until 4am this morning and then I bawled myself to sleep and that took me almost an hour. I don’t bawl very lullabyish.

It was a couple of hours before 4am when reality hit me full-force in the face: I WAS NOT GOING TO FINISH ALL THE PROJECTS BY CHRISTMAS.

Even now, the thought brings tears to my eyes. I overload myself every year but I always make it happen. This is the first year in at least the 37 years that I’ve been married that I have failed. Yes. Failed. That’s what hurt the most.

Pumpernickel will be resurrected this year.

I want to document that I WILL NEVER DO THIS AGAIN! Next year (or any other year) when I mention making multiples of anything besides pajamas, slap me.

I am going to take days or partial days off of work so I can have grandkids over to decorate gingerbread houses and eat more candy than we put on them. I’ll have them over again to make sugar cookies and use lots of sprinkles. And I’ll have them over again to make snowflakes and decorate my house. It’s going to happen.

I will not have another meltdown like I had today. I will not misplace my priorities another year. I taught a lesson on helping rid our lives of the chaos. Why wasn’t I listening to myself????

Somebody – or lots of somebodies – be my conscience and don’t be afraid to remind me of this goal. This is my one and only New Year’s Resolution for the rest of my life!

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