I feel a little sad that Christmas is done.
It's this thing I've been planning and looking forward to-- the (limited) time off work, seeing family, etc. But at the end of it, I'm much more exhausted, tired, and more stressed out than when I started.
I suffer from nostalgia. I've remember how magical our Christmases to be (whether they actually were or not is debatable....), but nevertheless, I'm slightly disapointed as an adult, when the holiday turns out to be so much more boring, crazy, or filled with someone else's agenda than I remember. It's less sparkle and magic and more of my mother-in-law telling me that I'm not making the brown n' serve rolls the way she does. It's running between houses to please all families, feeling like I'm just going through the motions instead of actually having fun.
Should I just buck up and realize that it's over- the age of wonder and magic? No more Christmas mornings when I can't wait to see what waits for me under the tree?
I've been told it's because we don't have our tradition down yet. But we only get a chance once a year to make our tradition, and let me tell you- the driving back and forth, the 9-hr inlaw family-paloozas ... and the inherent obligation .... this cannot be my tradition.
A favorite moment in the craziness of the weekend was taking a long walk, out by ourselves- in the quiet, near my family's neighborhood. It was misty and foggy and the snow was melting. We went out for about an hour with the dog to see some houses in the woods. The air smelled like pine and wet dirt, and we didn't see a person once. It was nice.
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