Thursday, December 1, 2011

It's got to get better from here!

Today I feel like I've been in a battle. Every inch of my body is sore, my muscles are stiff, my eyes have that post crying feeling - though for the record no tears have been shed. I am incredible blessed to have a support system around us to lift us up both spiritually, physically (yo, I got another ride today from those darned neighbors!) and finacially. Instead of keeping it in though, I'm going to let it go. It happened. It's done. Our car is fixed now and Jerry is able to go to work. All I can say is, thank you... but it seems so inaduquate. That's what I tell Jerry too. Sometimes a simple "I love you" is really not enough. It's more than that, so now I say, "you're f-ing awesome".


F-ing thank you.


We had a doctor appointment for Iris. Just a measurment kind. She's lost two pounds. She's still okay but it's perplexing. She has not gained a new skill that would require any energy and she seems to be eating the same amount...? Her constipation continues and she is refusing the prune juice... *shrug* I leave it in the hands of the one who created her, the great healer. The comfortor.


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And so while I feel beaten down we drug out the Christmas boxes.


Getting the Christmas stuff out today was almost too much for me. But we perservered. Jerry sent me out of the house for coffee, moved the television out of the livingroom (we've chosen to not watch television this season and are reserving movies for very very special nights when we can watch them together in bed.) and he set up the tree (fake) and even straightened up.


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I came back feeling calmer but still not myself.


 I am battle the Scrooge inside of me. I can hear him plain as day;



What's Christmas time to you but a time for paying bills without money; a time for finding yourself a year older, and not an hour richer; a time for balancing your books and having every item in 'em through a round dozen of months presented against you? If I would work my will ... every idiot who goes about with "Merry Christmas," on his lips, should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart.

I decided not to let it get me down. Ol' Scrooge can stuff it.


I donned some reinder antlers and stuffed a santa hat on every other head I found.


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We cranked up the christmas music and one at a time pulled out the ornaments. We read the date on the bottom and explained why each one was special. Sam's first Christmas. Joe's little sheep. An 'L' for Lucy in the shape of a cookie.


The angel is atop the tree, the lights up there keep going out then randomly springing back on.


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The first advent book was opened... by Sam... Aliens love Panta Claus.


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The kids went to bed now, Zooey Deschanel is singing The Christmas Waltz and I'm letting myself let go as I hang up my new wreath from the Goodwill and the 50 feet of garland I found for $7.00.


Because you know what?


Christmas is not about things, it's not about decorations, or fancy christmas cards. It's not about making it to a cookie exchange or being able to take your daughter to the Nutcracker.


It's about family. And Friends. And love.


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