I won’t lie, friend; I’m
tired. The kind of tired that doesn’t
abate with coffee, won’t relent after a nap.
It’s the bone weariness that accompanies the Striving-for-Too-Muchness (STM) of which I am perpetually
afflicted.
This weekend was a
difficult one emotionally – the pendulum swinging manically between fighting
off pressing sadness and the desperate need to soak in
every.single.moment. Because life is
entirely too flimsy a thing to take for granted. And so, I did what I do when I’m overwhelmed and can’t stick the landing in rest. I kicked my plans into overdrive; determining to do.all.the.things! And to get them done today. I don’t need to tell you that this did not happen. It never does. And with twenty or so projects in the smack-dab-messy-middle of completion, the Officer said to me, “I’ll be glad for you when Christmas is over so you will rest.” (This was after I told him I’d be forgoing most of another night of sleep to plug away at all that I want to get done.)
Before any of your hackles
raise (mine would), and you think, “why doesn’t he help?” Let me make a few things per-fect-ly clear:
The Officer rises at 2:30am, works out (both his jobs demand it), puts in an eleven
hour day (by the time he gets home), and still spends his evenings with us –
doing silly things like painting nativity scenes, playing indoor basketball,
reading to the minis, and helping with the dishes/straightening/bedtimes. So he’s the last person you’d want to accuse
of laziness. Also, not a one of these
projects were his idea, nor are any of them in the purview of his
expectations. No, these are all things I
have put on myself; things I want to
do.
And I’ll be honest, I want
to do them because I feel like I need to make this Christmas count. Even before Friday, but certainly more so
after. See, this is the first Christmas
in a very long time that neither the Officer nor I are in school. We have no finals breathing down our necks,
crowding out Christmas prep and forcing us to cut corners on activities and
wistfully sigh, “maybe next year.” Add
to that the fact that in the last half of this year, we experienced one of our
most challenging as a family; so that we are still trying to steady
ourselves. We need an abundance of joy, gosh darn it.
So I feel this need to
squeeze every last ounce of Christmas out of the season. Every single Pintrest idea needs to be
followed through; every tradition must stand.
Every night needs festivity, and everything needs to be purposeful and
memorable, and photographed and catalogued.
So that one day, my children will look back on this Christmas as the one
when Mom got all the things right. The
one, golden Christmas that had so much joy and so much laughter that it crowded
out the dark, made us forget all the tears, and gave us a glimpse of the Heaven
for which we hope.
Yeah, I know – I have
moments of certifiable perfectionism that border on insanity.
Because we all know that I’m
either going to fail epically, or – worse – I’ll succeed in doing all the
things, but I’ll be so tired and grouchy and wound so tight that no one will
enjoy a moment. And trust me, no one
wants that.
So what’s the answer? Do I stop everything and give in to my
weariness? Or do I plug on, knowing that
I can rest in the new year?
For me, the answer is:
both. I am going to dial everything
back. Because I am tired (and it’s okay
to admit that, even without finals/papers/all-nighters or stress from outside
circumstances). But I am also going to
stay the course and do everything I can to make this Christmas special. Not only for the kids; but also for the
Officer, for my family…for me. Because
in truth, the moments that I spend doing all the things are forgotten when I
see the smiles erupt on little faces, when the Officer laughs because he’s
enjoying himself so much, when my family finally walks through the door and we
envelop each other in too-long-between-them hugs. That’s what makes Christmas special for me. And I know every bit of missed sleep is worth
it. Truly, legitimately, and lastingly
worth it.
So, in the dialing-it-back
department, the elf wasn’t all that creative this week. He decorated my writing nook; and wrote on
the mirror again. He hid in a cereal
box. He read a book. He did bring the kids a little gift (on
Saturday); and he handmade another. Last
night, he wrapped all three of our baby Jesus-es in tissue because the
temperatures outside dropped and it was legitimately cold. Tonight, he’ll probably just do a little
wrapping because he’s tired; and frankly doesn’t really think pranks are all
that good of an idea right now.
I hope you have some rest
during this season, friend. And that it
is made all the more sweet with the presence of the ones you love. May your homes be filled with laughter,
light, and love. 
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