The Day After

Christmas is over.

That pretty much sums it up. Depending on your inflection, that brief sentence can be a sentiment of relief or one of melancholy. Either way, the fact remains the same. It's the day after Christmas.

In all honesty, it was a challenging holiday season for me. Not in any kind of catastrophic way...and really, nothing of any special significance happened that would make this Christmas visibly difficult. But still, I struggled. I struggled to make it special, and at the same time I struggled to not make too big of a deal of it. It's a fine line.

I guess, more than anything, the past month has felt very much like an ending. An ending of what, you ask? I don't really know. But the feeling was unmistakable. It could have been the knowledge that this was, most likely, the last year that either of the Tornadoes will believe in Santa Claus - and considering that cynicism measures into the stratosphere in this day and age, I guess I'm lucky that Fourth Grader held on as long as she did. It could also be that Sixth Grader is acting so very much like a teenager already that I am practically a non-entity in her daily thoughts. This is more accurately what it is, actually. The idea of snuggling up in front of a fire together, playing games or reading or just talking, is so boring to her, as is the thought of baking cookies while listening to music, or curling up to watch a movie. I mean, why do any of that when there is so much texting to be done? And iCarly episodes to watch? And do we HAVE to listen to Christmas music? And can I go to my friend's house? WHY NOT?

The three of us have been a unit for a few years now, and it's been bittersweet. Somewhere between the pressure of needing to provide for them by myself and the desire to shelter them from feeling like they were different from their friends - let's face it, we live in a pretty homogeneous little town - I think we created a fair share of special memories of our own, moments that have been unique to our experience. Somewhere in my silly little brain, I got the idea that these would be the defining moments of their lives, and that they would continue to cling to me forever. Somewhere, I forgot to remember that no matter how hard I try, they are going to grow up anyway. And I hate that.

So I tried to be incredibly present with them this season. I was so incredibly present that at times, I think, I went a little Clark Griswold. And much like poor Clark, I'm afraid I didn't always keep much of a sense of humor about the whole thing as I should have. I tried so hard to be present that I forgot to capture the irony by writing about it.

And yeah, I'll say it: I was borderline ready to shut the blog down for good. I was thisclose. Fortunately, for my sanity, I was too busy being "present" to get around to turning on my laptop and following through. Good thing, because how else could I ever tell you about the three hour, $300+ grocery shopping trip I took last week in preparation of a Christmas dinner, only to find that when Christmas rolled around, nobody wanted to bother eating anything? Because you can't eat and text, or play Wii, at the same time, mom. And I wouldn't be able to tell you about the Christmas concert that the Tornadoes spent weeks preparing to perform for the family on Christmas Eve, and about the devastating, gasping, heaving sobs coming from Sixth Grader that morning when she realized she had left her sheet music at school and wouldn't be able to play without it. And how, while she was in the shower bawling her eyes out, I called Band Instructor to ask if we could borrow another copy of her music, and then cut short a planned visit with some friends by about a half hour so we could drive out to Band Instructor's house to get the music, and all Sixth Grader could say to me when I told her I called him was, "Oh. Okay." Not "thank you." Not "You rock so much harder than all the other moms in the world." Oh. Okay.

So today, this day after Christmas, I find myself wanting. Wanting my sense of humor back. I haven't lost it. I just tucked it away for a few weeks. It's probably downstairs in a box, waiting, with the rest of the stuff that I hid away down there to make room for the wreaths and the reindeer bath rugs. I'll probably leave the bath rugs out for a few more days. But I might as well go down there and get my sense of humor. What else am I going to do? Sixth Grader went snowboarding with her friends, and Fourth Grader has a friend over for the day.

Might as well laugh about it...