This morning I had to run my daughter to play practice and on the way home, I caught a random Christmas song on the radio. I almost turned the station but then I thought to myself, "I bet this will be the last one I hear this year on the radio." And so, for the sake of posterity, I listened to Mariah Carey belt out "All I Want For Christmas Is You."
Is it bad to say that, as much as I love the anticipation and preparation of Christmas, I am glad that it's over?
Well, I am. Not because I missed the significance of the holiday or because I got too overcommitted or anything like that. It's just because, well, I was tired of the hyperactive children and the being off schedule and the weight of pulling off all that had to be done in the name of making things "memorable." Because with six children, two adults, a smattering of relatives and friends, a tiny house, a new puppy, and an elderly dog, things are going to be, well, memorable without any extra effort. But sometimes I forget and get the teensiest bit single-minded about pulling off everything I have in my head that I want to do.
And so, the occasion which causes me to feel compelled to do and do and do is over. And I am glad. Because hopefully, the house can get back to normal and the kids can go back to normal and my stress level can go back to just normal, I-have-six-kids stress instead of I-have-six-kids-and-it's-Christmas stress. The kids did, after all, have a great Christmas and got way too much stuff and ate way too many sweets. And I am just now making our family Christmas dinner. Tonight. If that tells you anything about how busy and crazy we have been.
And so, tonight we will sit down to turkey and green beans and rice and gravy and sweet potato casserole, and rolls. And I might make a dessert if I get in the mood. The gravy will be from a package. The turkey is being cooked in the crockpot (the simplest way I know). The rolls are courtesy of Sister Schuberts. The rice is Minute Rice. But the time together and the yummy food will be all that matters.
And I think that is my greatest lesson.