I know I should write. For days I’ve been trying to come up with words. Everything I wanna say sounds dark, though. The Christmas season gets me every year. I never plan well enough. Or, I do plan, but either I don’t follow through or the plans fall through.
And then I’m mad and frustrated with myself.
We are three days from Christmas and I still have one mother and father-in-law, three nieces, a nephew, and a nephew-to-be to shop for. Seriously.
I’m trying to figure out when that shopping can happen. I have kids to school, a house to manage, a church to clean, my other cleaning job, and some more procrastinating to do (hello, blogging).
No time to shop.
Gift cards all around! Isn’t that what every four year old little boy wants?
I’m tired. Tired of getting older and still not doing it right. Tired of planning the plans and writing the lists and dreaming big and…
There won’t be a fancy Christmas breakfast. There won’t be the prime rib. There’s pretty little decorated lists with the ingredients I need for those things, though!
I know. Christmas isn’t about the lists and the breakfast and the prime rib. I know. But still, they are things that bring great joy to my family when I’m able to deliver them.
Maybe 36. Maybe that’s when I get Christmas right.