I’m trying to psych myself up for a full and very busy week, but my heart is still in holiday mode. I don’t think I’ll be able to shake the festive spirit until the last of the turkey is consumed and that could be a while.
Do you ever feel like we jump from one holiday to the next?
I get that feeling every fall. I’m still burping stuffing and we’re putting up the Christmas tree. Some days I want scream S-L-O-W-D-O-W-N, but no one would listen anyway.
I have zero gifts bought. Somehow that already makes me feel behind, because according to Facebook, everyone was done Christmas shopping in September.
I generally don’t stress out over the holidays, because somehow Santa always comes, food magically appears on our dinner table (after the last-minute run for groceries and the washing of three hundred and twenty pots I forgot I owned), and there’s always cool people to celebrate with. I love the holidays.
Besides, there are so many other things I can stress out over. For instance, I’m speaking to a MOPS group in Pennsylvania next week.
My body may have been snoozing in my bed last night, but my mind was in PA and I felt like my legs were running through the states trying to keep up with my brain. It was really restful…if you’re a Tasmanian Devil suffering psychosis.
I’m freaking out a little. I mean, I write. I don’t speak. Can I just send an email?
Sure, I’ll find a way to
get my hands on some sedatives pull myself together before the big event, but rest assured, I will do something fantastically stupid. Put some pressure on me and the natural blond I keep hidden under all this dark hair, well, she knows it’s her moment to shine. And, shine she does.
State of Pennsylvania and all mothers with children under six, please forgive me in advance for being a ridiculous dork. I cannot help myself.
And, as if speaking candidly, coherently, and humorously weren’t difficult enough, there’s a very grave decisions I must make.
What in the world do I wear???
I’ve already decided there’s nothing worthy in my closet. I rent my clothes, bemoaned my poor fashion choices, and blamed Target for leading me astray.
What was I thinking?
I don’t own one outfit that says MOPS Christmas Speaker. Should I dress like an elf? The kids would be all kinds of excited.
So, there you have it – my holiday angst wrapped up in a cheap outfit and a ball of stress.
Can we just push Christmas out to the middle of January? Please.
If you’re finished with all your Christmas shopping, please keep that joyous tidbit to yourself.
If you know what I should wear to a MOPS party, please don’t hesitate to give fashion advice. Heck, come to my closet and we’ll play dress-up.
If public speaking is old hat to you, do tell me the secret to squelching my inner Tasmanian Devil.
Who is still eating turkey?