By MGAL Guest Theresa Robbins
I must have been high.
That has to be it.
There’s simply no other explanation.
Why else would I schedule shoulder surgery that would completely incapacitate my dominant arm for 2-3 weeks for less than 10 days before Christmas?
Actually, when I made the decision, I was anything but high. It sounded oh so rational. Deductible’s met. The kids will be home from school to help me. I won’t have to drive anybody anywhere. I’m taking time off for the holidays anyway… Yada, yada, yada.
Except I forgot how much extra stuff there is to do at the holidays. And all that new stuff I have in the works. And that new program I’m launching. Oh and the new website I’m designing. And teachers’ gifts. And those gifts I agreed to buy for that foster family. And that tax credit thingy I have to take care of before the end of the year. And… on and on.
I’ve been running around all day and late into the evenings trying to get it all done.
I am completely pooped.
And I do not feel like celebrating. Not even a little. Not even a smidge. Not even the teeniest, tiniest iota of an iota.
Nope. But I do feel like the grinch. A lot. A whole, whole lot.
The holidays are about peace, love, joy and happiness. Somehow I translated that into a massive to-do list that would cripple the ablest among us and suck any and all possible pleasure from the season.
Just what my family wants for Christmas: a raving bitch!
Luckily, I realized, with 11 days to spare, that it’s not too late to turn this thing around and grow my heart a size or two.
If you’re floating around in the sea of overwhelm clinging to your own little life raft, you might wonder how I’m choosing to go from grinch to Christmas Angel. Let me tell you…
I’m prioritizing everything on that killer to-do list and then…
I am completely bagging everything that feels nothing at all like joy or fun.
Decorating? Give me a break. In a month, with my arm still in recovery, I’m just going to have to pack it all up. I’m bagging it. That’s right – not even gonna bother.
I am making certain tasks more enjoyable by sharing them with others who take joy in them.
Baking? Delegating it to my oldest son who loves to bake (with my supervision while my arm’s slung in that sling). The treats might be simpler and a bit messy, but this way, I certainly won’t have to clean the kitchen.
I am bettering anything that feels too cumbersome by finding an easy, but thoughtful solution.
Teachers’ gifts? Gift cards all the way. Starbucks never disappoints and I can buy them at the grocery store. That foster family? Bet the hair salon sponsoring the gifting would appreciate some cash to buy more expensive items these foster kids want and need.
And if the things at the bottom of the to-do list don’t get done, I bet the world won’t end. If it does and this is my last Christmas on earth, I don’t want to spend it in a grinchy, dizzying spin of action. I’d rather be the Christmas Angel reveling in the warm glow of loving celebration. So I’m just gonna chill with it and let it be what it is.
Won’t you join me?
Imagine a whole band of freshly minted Christmas (or Holiday) Angels spreading peace, love and joy instead of cards, gifts and gingerbread men. Imagine the joy on our families’ faces when we give them the gifts of being at peace with ourselves, showering them with the full strength of our love, and rolling around in our deep and profound joy.
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