My mother used to say ” Cheer up things could get worse. I cheered up and sure enough, things got worse”.
Everyone sleeps. For some people (or dogs), sleep is like food. A little here, a little there, and they are functional. I am not one of those people. I need my sleep. A solid eight hours a night – at least.
For the most part, I have always slept well. Even when my children were infants, I slept well. I would go to bed as early as possible, wake up for night feedings, and be able to fall back asleep no problem. Fortunately, my children were good sleepers as well. 👶
When I was building a new home with my first husband, I worked a year of nights in a donut shop to pay off the downpayment. In the day, I was a full-time homemaker with three children in elementary school. Evenings and weekends, we put a lot of sweat equity into the house. I found I could function on very little sleep if I had to. I also found that lack of sleep made me giddy – really giddy! By the time the year was up, I was able to go to part-time administrative day work and resume my regular sleep routine. 😊
When I became a single mother of three teenagers, I once again had to cut back on my sleep. Monday through Friday, I was up at 6 a.m. and getting ready to drive teenagers to school before getting to work. My day was done at 2 or 3 a.m. the next morning. Saturday and Sunday, I could usually squeak in six hours of sleep a night. It was not nearly enough. After three and a half years, I was giddy to the point of hysterics most days. I could find hilarity in most situations, and generally did. Fortunately, we didn’t have a lot of family funerals or equally somber affairs in those years. I am pretty sure that would not have gone well. 🙄
Anyway, for the past twenty years, I have been able to get in some pretty solid sleep. Unfortunately, nothing lasts forever. This past fall I had a case of shingles – from the top of my head, through my left eye and across my face. I do not know why, but somehow this has affected my ability to sleep. I will go to bed a 10 pm and at 3 am I am staring at the ceiling thinking about anything that is guaranteed to keep me awake. I finally get a couple of hours of sleep, but it is not nearly enough. I am not giddy when I wake up. I am just exhausted. Sliding off my chair at work by 10 a.m. exhausted. 😴
Laying awake in the middle of the night sucks. Being exhausted all day just sucks. Anybody have any fail proof ways to get to sleep? I am ready to try (almost) anything. 😟
Today is the International day of hugs. I have to admit, I am not the most touchy feely person and I am rattled more than a little when someone spontaneously hugs me, especially if it is someone I have just met or someone I do not know very well. Occasionally, someone will ask if it would be ok to hug me. I generally agree although there have been times when I have just declined with a simple “No, I’m good”. Actually it was one time and he was a pre-plan funeral salesman. It was just wierd.
Despite my reluctance to hug willy-nilly, there have been a number of studies that have shown that hugging has potential benefits – physically and emotionally. Newborns, are known to thrive when the they are hugged, compared to those who are deprived of such physical interaction. The same theory must also be popular with seniors. I am pretty sure one of the prerequisites for working in a nursing home is the ability to pass around hugs like hard candies – which is another story of mine altogether.
I honestly do admire people who are capable of giving out spontaneous hugs to anyone in their immediate vicinity. I had a brother-in-law who gave the best bear hugs. He was an amazing man with a big heart and a total joie de vivre. Unfortunately, he died in a vehicle accident many years ago. The likes of Paul are few and far between. My kids are all good and natural huggers but they are all a little cautious about who they hug. My grandchildren hug anybody, their friends are huggers, it is somewhat of a ‘thing’ with the lot of them.
Happy ‘International Day of Hugs’! It is only one day of the year, make the most of it. Hug your mother, your friend, your sister, or your dog. Hug a stranger – but like not me. I’m good🤗
We had the sons over tonight for a belated Christmas. Unfortunately, Mark’s Erin couldn’t be here as she had to work and Danny’s daughter Gabby is with her mother for Christmas. Mark was here with Dominic and Danny was here with Amanda and their boys Lucas and Cason.
The boys kept busy with cars and Lego. There were a few pillow fights and a little mayhem. It’s a small house so a little mayhem goes a long way😂
We had a good laid back visit. Spaghetti and hot wings might become our go to Christmas dinner. All in all an entertaining evening.
Dan is finally off work now for a few days so we get to relax with the dogs for a couple of hours. Nice🙂
Finished my Christmas jigsaw puzzle. Actually I got a box of eight smaller puzzles this year but with Danny and family coming tomorrow I may not get them all done before January 2nd.
Growing up, we were not wealthy by any means but all the stops came out at Christmas. There were chocolates and candy, nuts and oranges. There were endless buns and pies, cookies and squares. There was turkey and ham, cabbage rolls and tourtiere, salads and a dozen side dishes. My mother was a phenomenal and prolific cook and baker! There were stockings filled with small treats and toys, always including a new coloring book and crayons. There were dolls, and teddy bears and trucks under the tree. Last but not least, there was always a new jigsaw puzzle. After Christmas dinner, the card table was set up, the puzzle came out, and we all took turns visiting around the puzzle, doing a bit here and a bit there, until the family puzzle was complete. It is a tradition I am sure we all maintained with our children and they carry it on today. 🎄
I grew up in a French Catholic home. Religion was a part of our lives every day but even more so at Christmas. For weeks before Christmas, we were put into super drive preparing for the big day. We scrubbed our home from top to bottom, cooked and baked, shopped and wrapped, we prepared for our school Christmas concert (which centred around the Nativity story in those day), we decorated our home and of course we attended choir practice and church services six ways to Sunday. My older, married sisters would arrive with husbands and children and gifts.
By the big day, we were ready for the MIRACLE OF CHRISTMAS🎁🎄🎆
And then, my mother would crash and burn. The exhaustion and the stress of weeks of preparation, topped off with a couple of hours at midnight mass, would finally get the best of her. By noon, Mother would be in full meltdown, babies would start to cry, men would start to drink, sisters would start to fight. No Christmas miracles in our home, just bitter disappointment and the obligatory Christmas pictures to prove that we had the happiest of times🙄. By supper, we had all thrown in the towel and spent the evening working at jigsaw puzzles and playing cards.
Once I had my own family, I pretty much carried on the same tradition with a few extra perks thrown in. Christmas in our home was never done until someone had the flu or a case of pneumonia. The epitome had to be the year Danny puked on the Christmas tree. That was a classic. The year my Dad died days before Christmas was memorable. I was almost ready to give up on the MIRACLE OF CHRISTMAS by 2003. That was the year our precious Genie was born. We left the hospital at 3:30pm on Christmas Eve with love and joy in our hearts. We were so close. We got home to find that my Mother had decided to place a box of chocolates under the Christmas tree, inspite of our asking her repeatedly not to do that, inspite of our moving them sixteen times. She had no idea our dog would eat them. Good grief! What dog wouldn’t eat them? Really hard to hold onto the Christmas spirit, when you are sitting in the vet’s office on Christmas Eve. 🤦
My family grew up, in spite of our annual Christmas debacles. They all have children of their own and their own Christmas stories to tell. For many years we have been going to my daughter’s for Christmas. I have powered through shopping for gifts and food, while my husband kept a running total of the cost. I went to Christmas concerts, which always seem to be held on December 17th 😢. My daughter would bake and clean. We were always ready for a CHRISTMAS MIRACLE that never quite made it. There was tears, disappointment, arguments, melt downs, way to much noise and just downright unChristmassy behaviour – but we kept powering through and I kept doing my damnedest to aim for a CHRISTMAS MIRACLE.
This year my sons are with their in-laws, my husband is at work, my daughter is at her home with her family and we are not there because she has shut me out of her life and banned me from seeing my grandchildren. My father and mother are both gone. I am alone for Christmas Day. I went into this season with no expectations or hope of making this the year of the CHRISTMAS MIRACLE.
Honestly, I am having the best Christmas ever. My sister and her husband were here for an overnight visit a few days ago. We sent out for pizza and had wine. So nice. My sons are coming with their families on the weekend. I have done a bit of baking – some good, some not so much, but whatever. It was Christmassy. Genie’s stepfather dropped her off for a quick visit on the 23rd. She brought us some gifts she had made for us. There were a lot of tears but it was all good. I cooked a ham last night, destroyed the scalloped potatoes but the broccoli was great. After supper, we opened presents. We cried over Genie’s. They were so special. She painted us a picture and wrote a book for Grandpa, telling him how much he meant to her. She gave me a sparkling elephant pin. Today I made myself Pillsbury cinnamon buns for breakfast. I have a turkey in the oven for when Dan gets home from work. I am relaxing by my new fireplace, ready to start doing a jigsaw puzzle. I am happy, at peace, and full of love and good wishes for my family – all of my family. I feel really good. This is is the year of my CHRISTMAS MIRACLE.
The thing is, you can’t make miracles happen. You can’t force them or fake them. Miracles just happen when you let them🕊️
This year, for the first time in 42 years, my nest will be empty for Christmas. I somehow thought this would be a time to dread but to be honest, I am quite enjoying it.
I am sorry that my husband has to work all Christmas Day, but I will spend much of the day making us a beautiful turkey supper. We will have time together in the days before Christmas and over New Years. My sister and her husband will be here this weekend and my sons will be here with their families after Christmas.
I have done some baking and set out minimal decorations. I am picking up a couple of gifts for my husband. The kids are getting cards with enough cash to take their families on a special outting.
For the most part, this will just be a nice relaxing time off from work. This year I will have time to enjoy the winter wonderland outside our door – without actually going outside of our door. This year there will be no fussy babies, fighting siblings or arguing couples. There will be no whining, complaining, or crying. And there will definitely be nobody getting the flu and throwing up on the Christmas tree.
This year there will just be peace and goodwill! The way Christmas should be🕊️