'Tis the Season of Crazy

My blog is down. Again. I can’t really complain since I don’t pay anything for the care and feeding of BlogPeoria, but my thoughts are piling up. I’ve reached the point of either I start writing or my brain explodes. That just sounds messy so welcome to the placeholder blog.

This season has me running crazy. There’s nothing specific I can point to; I’m just tired and frantic all the time. Because of this and that Jonathan and I weren’t able to decorate our Christmas tree on the day we got it. I looked down the week , trying to find an evening we could string the lights and make it beautiful. I got to sometime next week and just gave up. Then, lest I make anything too simple, I swing between guilt about how non-intentional we’re being this year, just letting events happen without making a point to be celebratory or contemplative, and weepy fatigue at how busy we are with Christmas and Christmasy events.

But then Jonathan steps in.

He is excited about this Christmas and he hasn’t been actively excited about a Christmas since before I knew him. He looks at our unlit, undecorated tree and feels childishly happy because it was the biggest one on the farm. The trunk is so curvy we had to tie it to the windows to keep it from taking out the cat in the middle of the night and it’s a nightmare to water, but it’s ours. Our first tree in our first house. While I stress about the lights and ornaments he’s just happy we went to this much effort. Anything else is pure gravy.

So I’m trying to slow down.  I’m trying to be happy with what we have, with being as festive as we are. All the guilt-ridden voices in my head can take the season off, thank you very much. Because my man is happy- big, goofy, delighted happy- and that makes me happy.