This is the point in time where my holiday spirit fails me for awhile…. we’ve drug 5 large bins of Christmas stuff from the storage unit to the apartment, unloaded and decorated 3 bins full so far, and I’ve got the tree up and the lights on. Up til this point, I was fine. Normally, the whole "light issue" leaves me ready to scream and pull my hair out… this year was different, but not exactly better. See, since we’re going to Idaho for Christmas, it didn’t seem smart to have a live tree, to become a fire hazard in the time we are away. Alan suggested skipping a tree this year – to which Kiki and I responded "PAH!!" So we did something I swore I’d never do – buy a fake tree. It looks…well, fake. I know, there are some really beautiful fake Christmas trees – but not when you spend under $50.00 for one! We decided we couldn’t spend more that we’d have spent on a real tree, so, well, you get what you pay for, huh? Anyway, I generally put like, 7 strands of lights on the tree, and spend forever doing it because I am a stupid, stupid perfectionist and I’m really picky about the tree. Remember how I said "generally"? Yeah. Not this year. That poor tree, it’s so lame, I put one strand of lights on it. And, well, it’s not really too bare. How sad is that?! Oh, it should have another strand, really, but I’m at the "I don’t care" point. Ugh. I hate getting like this! See, the tree is a big deal to me, and I have the most gorgeous ornaments… most of which, I fear, aren’t going to fit on this scrawny little bugger….sigh. I know it shouldn’t matter so much. Yet, it does.
Then there is my daughter. Oh, she’s a great kid. But I have to admit I enjoyed decorating more when she wasn’t around to "help". It’s that whole perfectionism deal, kicking in full force. First off, she’s a kid, so she’s not going to do it perfectly. Then, she’s also a kid who is too easily distracted – and yes, somewhat lazy, so she’ll do a half-way job and call it good. And it drives me nuts. And it shouldn’t. And then I feel like a horrible mom because I get irritated at her. Like just now, when she told me she can’t find this one important part of one of our Nativity scenes – because yesterday she found it in a little bag, which she proceeded to put "somewhere, maybe on the floor, I don’t remember…" Aaaargh!! This crap happens all the time, and it’s probably my fault for not teaching her better, huh?
I will be fine. I will get the job done, decide it all looks pretty darn nice anyway, and find that Christmas Spirit once again. In the meantime, I sent Alan out to buy me an eggnog latte – and my stress must be pretty obvious, because he went right out to get me one without even griping about it or telling me I didn’t need one. Wow.