December 15, 2014


Ah, December. Month of gentle snow, silent nights, mounting excitement, and Scrooged.

Month in which I am historically over-overwhelmed with client work (if you count two years as an appropriate sample size, WHICH I DO.) Month in which I've given up blogging (twice, although that last time was an accident).

Month in which this here turns four years old, with time off for good behaviour.

Month in which I've been known to brag about how wonderful and sweet my family is, how cozy and content we are, and how generally fabulous my life is.

Exhibit A
 Oh, brother.

Let's overcompensate on that last one in the other direction this year: It's the month in which I'm struggling with the fact that Christmas feels a little like yet another something on a long (almost endless) to-do list of somethings that include major construction (yes, still) and a layoff with its concomitant income gymnastics.

There's been a significant amount of non-Christmas-related stress this year. In fact, I imagine that in years to come, Seth and I will look back on 2014 as The Year of Character Building. From scratch. With nail guns.

You know, it sounds like I'm all greyed out and whatnot, but truthfully I'm not. I have a pretty deep-seated "it'll be fine" streak, along with a pretty loose definition of "it" and "fine".  I'm happy, even grateful for zee painful character building. I can even - if I concentrate really, really hard - get enthusiastic about advent, excited kiddos, and Scrooged.

I just don't want to right at this exact moment. Ask me again next week.