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Browsing Tag: holidays

Because Hall-Decking is On the Schedule

I had plans for today, you guys, PLANS. A half a foot of snow was expected this morning, they told us. Refreezing of the wet roads from yesterday. Awful driving conditions, we were warned. So what did this mama think? NO SCHOOL, she thought. Yay! she said. We’re gonna Christmas this place up. I was giddy. So I let the girls stay up late to watch a holiday special on TV (in my defense, they were already all hyped up from a gymnastics class, and then their dad took them out afterward for frozen yogurt, and then…wait. That doesn’t make this sound any better. Never mind). I scoured my recipes for cookie ideas. We were going to bake today. We were going to curl up under a blanket with popcorn and hot chocolate and watch a Christmas movie. We were going to put the last of the candy canes on the tree and play outside and were going to have a day worthy of Norman Rockwell, so help me. You see where I’m going with this, don’t you? I was a teacher for what, five or six years? You&#8217…

My Christmas Spirit is Around Here Somewhere

I’ve fallen into the trap,  you guys. And it wasn’t even like I was pushed. I jumped, both feet in, eyes open and not even holding my nose. There’s no name for this trap, really. Because if I tried to describe it to you it’d sound more like oh-my-GAD-I’m-so-stressed-there’s-not-enough-time-in-the-day-holy-cow-I’m-never-going-to-be-able-to-do-it-all-WILLSOMEONEPLEASETELLTHOSECHILDRENTOSTOPBEINGSOLOUD? It’s kind of like that. The Stressed Mommy trap. The Holiday Hellfire trap. The Fa La La $%#@ It trap. Ooh.  I guess I do have a name for it. But I did it to myself. See, there’s the holiday stuff: the shopping, which I started early, thinking it would help my inevitable anxiety (BWAHAHAHA). There’s the decorating, and the wrapping, and the card ordering (I was going to go all Kardashian this year, but think they topped whatever I’d have dreamed up). There’s the cookie baking, and I should probably squeeze in some time with the kids at some point, I guess…

It’s Called Christmas Biscotti. Because it’s Christmas, That’s Why

I keep telling myself that I’m not going to be one of those people (i.e., every adult with a family in America) who gets stressed out over the holidays.  Nooo, I keep thinking.  This is the most wonderful time of the year!  Carols and jingle bells and balsam-and-cedar-scented candles, dagnabit!  I WILL be happy. But.  Too much to do.  I’m sullen, overtired, and cranky that we ran out of clean washcloths and I’ve a mountain of laundry to wash.  I dried my hair once this week.  Once.  I won’t tell you how many times I’ve washed it. No, more than that.  Don’t be gross. Thursday, I dropped SK off at preschool and raced home (not raced, not raced.  I mean, I drove the speed limit, Officer.  Please put that ticket book away) to throw together some biscotti for a get-together with friends later that afternoon (it’s really book club, but since I haven’t read a single selection since August because I’ve been settling for the likes of Tina Fey’s Bossypants and Mindy Kaling’s…