December is already kicking my ass, guys – and it hasn’t even begun.
It’s a month chock-full of holiday festivities and, in our family, birthdays. Also, my wedding anniversary which, for the first 6 years, I thought was on 12/14 but really it’s 12/16.
Hear me out, though. Our wedding was supposed to be on 12/14. But we were called (last minute) and told there would be a funeral visitation that evening and the chapel would be busy.
My brain only recently has decided to accept this and remember the correct date. Finally.
That said, we don’t celebrate it so it’s not a stressor in the gift-department. I just have to remember it’s correct date.
Speaking of gifts, I’ve been packratting children’s Christmas presents for the last month. Which is super last minute but way earlier than every other year I’ve done this Christmas thing.
Eventually, I’ll have my life together enough to start buying presents in February. I’ll add it to the list of stuff I want to accomplish in 2019. Add it to the list in a bullet journal I’ll actually keep up with.
Hi, my name is Cassie and I have a problem with investing in nice journals but never using them.
…But for now, I’ll pat myself on the back for being proactive a month out, okay? Just let me have this.
I’ll worry about 2019 in 2019. I still have one more month left of this year that completely flew by.
This evening, we un-boxed the tree. My inner-self is angry at myself because I grew up with a live tree and want a live tree. …But a fake one is so convenient.
We don’t have a legitimate tree topper, either. This is in part because my sister has the Opus Reindeerus that I want because we had it as kids and also because Keith and I want a Tupac doll but can’t find one.
Since neither of our choices are an option, we let Rowynn make one this year.
Excuse me while I go scream into a pillow, lamenting the fact that I’ve yet to actually have a bonafide, yearly family tradition when it comes to Christmas. So, I now have a paper angel that looks like she escaped the 7th circle of hell. A paper angel that will probably unintentionally become a forever-tradition and who will likely adorn every tree we have for the next 30 years.
I told her that we would string popcorn, too. I think I might end up regretting this promise.
I’m getting better at not failing at the holidays, though. Slowly…
In the meantime, as I hold my breath and try and hang on for the next 31 days, I’ll learn how to string popcorn and will report back on the experience.