I've been trying for days, well, years really, to accurately articulate how and why Christmas is so important to me. I haven't been very successful, but I did have this small epiphany:
It's really important to me. And I mean really, really, really important. In an almost unhealthy, obsessive-compulsive way. (One of the many, many compulsions. But that's an entirely different (and long and amusing) post.)
I think this is where part of the explanation lies. As far back as I can remember, the holidays were always the same. We had the same food, the same routines, the same movies, the same traditions every year. No matter what crappy things had happened that year, we always had Christmas and were reminded that we were still a family and that would never change. For this slightly obsessive-compulsive girl, change doesn't come smoothly. I think I still expect Christmas to mean the same things and feel the same as it always has.
Now, I know that it's perfectly fine to make new traditions and I am excited to make some this year. But deep down in my soul, I can't shake the fear that "Christmas just won't be Christmas without _____."
It's an irrational fear that's very real to me. I know it puts way too much expectation on everyone, including myself, but it's not something that I feel I can help. And really, what is the harm in having to have stockings and a tree and watching A Christmas Story at least 5 times?!
The fact that this year will be my first-ever Christmas not spent with my family scares me. Aside from the obvious sadness, it gives me a panic attack to think that I won't have fudge or white cookies, or a huge Christmas dinner, or stockings "mysteriously" filled with miniature dolls and my favorite candy or............
How will it really be Christmas without my family and all of those things??
Friday, December 5, 2008
Monday, December 1, 2008
First Snow
The snow on Friday (and again on Sunday) was my first of the season. It was lovely indeed, but it wasn't long before I remembered the love-hate relationship I have with snow.
The first not-so-fun experience was driving to pick up the boy from work. I have terrible night vision as it is, but pair that with the blowing snow and glaring headlights in my eyes, and it's a disastrous combination. It wasn't too bad, but by the time I got there my hands hurt from being clenched tightly on the wheel and my eyes hurt from focusing on the road. Needless to say, I didn't drive on the way back.
The second-and worst-snow experience occurred on Saturday morning. I slept through my alarm and woke up 15 minutes before we had to leave to take the boy to work. Knowing it was going to be snowy and cold, I put on my new "Nine West version" Ugg boots for their winter-weather debut. It's important to note the house sits on a hill and you have to tread down this hill to get to the street where my car was parked. Knowing the driveway would be icy and slick, I opted for the snow-covered, grassy part of the hill thinking my new boots could handle it. That's what they're for, after all!
I had a little slip, but didn't think anything of it. The boy saw and warned me to be careful, while trying to get my hand. But he wasn't quick enough, as my next step was my downfall, literally. I slipped and fell flat on my back into the inch of snow!! I don't know if it was the fact that I was so tired, or stressed from running late, or angry at my shoes, or embarrassed that I fell, or in pain from falling, but tears immediately filled my eyes and they wouldn't stop!! The boy helped me up and brushed me off and we managed to get to the car without another mishap.
Once I had calmed down, the boy asked me what the bottoms of my shoes looked like. I mentioned that they were snow boots and should have a good sole, but when I showed him he cracked up laughing. (Which in turn made me cry again, I have no idea...) I believe his exact words were, "I bet you have flip flops with more traction than those things!" :(
I was not amused. I was irate at my stupid shoes. He tried to console me by saying, "At least they look good.." and I blew up "NO THEY DON'T! They are hideous and ugly and stupid. I hate the way they look, the only reason I wear them is because I thought they would be good for the snow!"
Once my tears dried, I was able to laugh a little. But once the boy said, "I looked back and saw you laying on the ground and thought, 'what are doing, making snow angels?! I gotta get to work!'" there was no stopping the laughter. Things like that are just some of the many reasons I'm so head over heels for him. :)
So, I was rudely reminded that although the snow is beautiful and enchanting and lovely, it's not always very nice. I love it and then I hate it and I don't think that's going to change anytime soon.
The first not-so-fun experience was driving to pick up the boy from work. I have terrible night vision as it is, but pair that with the blowing snow and glaring headlights in my eyes, and it's a disastrous combination. It wasn't too bad, but by the time I got there my hands hurt from being clenched tightly on the wheel and my eyes hurt from focusing on the road. Needless to say, I didn't drive on the way back.
The second-and worst-snow experience occurred on Saturday morning. I slept through my alarm and woke up 15 minutes before we had to leave to take the boy to work. Knowing it was going to be snowy and cold, I put on my new "Nine West version" Ugg boots for their winter-weather debut. It's important to note the house sits on a hill and you have to tread down this hill to get to the street where my car was parked. Knowing the driveway would be icy and slick, I opted for the snow-covered, grassy part of the hill thinking my new boots could handle it. That's what they're for, after all!
I had a little slip, but didn't think anything of it. The boy saw and warned me to be careful, while trying to get my hand. But he wasn't quick enough, as my next step was my downfall, literally. I slipped and fell flat on my back into the inch of snow!! I don't know if it was the fact that I was so tired, or stressed from running late, or angry at my shoes, or embarrassed that I fell, or in pain from falling, but tears immediately filled my eyes and they wouldn't stop!! The boy helped me up and brushed me off and we managed to get to the car without another mishap.
Once I had calmed down, the boy asked me what the bottoms of my shoes looked like. I mentioned that they were snow boots and should have a good sole, but when I showed him he cracked up laughing. (Which in turn made me cry again, I have no idea...) I believe his exact words were, "I bet you have flip flops with more traction than those things!" :(
I was not amused. I was irate at my stupid shoes. He tried to console me by saying, "At least they look good.." and I blew up "NO THEY DON'T! They are hideous and ugly and stupid. I hate the way they look, the only reason I wear them is because I thought they would be good for the snow!"
Once my tears dried, I was able to laugh a little. But once the boy said, "I looked back and saw you laying on the ground and thought, 'what are doing, making snow angels?! I gotta get to work!'" there was no stopping the laughter. Things like that are just some of the many reasons I'm so head over heels for him. :)
So, I was rudely reminded that although the snow is beautiful and enchanting and lovely, it's not always very nice. I love it and then I hate it and I don't think that's going to change anytime soon.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)