Loving the Holidays but Surrendering to the Bah Humbug

Let's just cut to the chase. 2009 has been a shitty year for me. So shitty that when I am at my worst moments, what I am most grateful for, is simply life itself. Yes, I have many other things to be thankful for, too: a loving husband, supportive family, a roof over my head, and money in the bank. But those things often become diluted in the melancholy abyss of my life's current tragedy.

My one refuge for the year was going to be the holidays. I LOVE the holidays. Back in mid-October, I declared to Andrew, "I am going to get everything done for Christmas by December 1, so I can simply enjoy the holidays!" By everything, I meant everything— the shopping, the wrapping, the cards, the tree, the decorating.

I had this grandiose image of me being able to twirl around like Martha Stuart from Dec. 1-24, baking cookies, doing Christmas crafts, going to community celebrations, and entertaining at a fun and festive pace.

What is that saying about the life-making plans for you? Here it is December 17, and thanks to plumbing problems, a sick dog, and an injured knee, I haven't had nearly one Martha Stuart moment. I haven't started my cards, we still have three boxes to ship, and the top of my Christmas tree still doesn't have the rest of its decorations. But hey, at least it has its lights.

I am trying to be positive, find the silver linings, and think about everything I have gotten accomplished. But I can't help but still feel frustrated and disappointed in a very defeated way. And I realize that this Christmas is going to get sucked into the 2009 Shitty Year Hall of Fame, much as I thought the occasion could be immune.

As I close this blog, I just knocked on wood because I do know that things always good be worse. And I am never one who likes to tempt the fates. I wish that I could have had a little more Martha this holiday season. But hey, there is always next year, and hey, even just tomorrow.