A Gift To Myself

I have broken a 13 year-old Christmas tradition in my household.  The decision to travel a different path this year was gut wrenching, anxiety provoking, and I even felt a little guilty wondering if my kids would hate me for the rest of their lives. 

I decided to buy cookies instead of bake them. 

I know. 

Every year except this one, I slave away in the kitchen on Christmas Eve baking dozens upon dozens of cookies.  Thumbprints, chocolate chip, pecan sandies, peanut butter, sugar cutouts, rum balls, coconut macaroons, cherry bars, pecan bars, and whatever the hell else has caught my attention in my many cookbooks stacked a mile high in the dining room.  And though I have to brag about my skills as a baker, (I'm really good), this entire day in the kitchen standing in front of a hot ass oven, covered in flour, washing dishes as I go---while Greg and the kids sit around playing PS3 and/or napping----can be stressful and oftentimes irritating.   After being on my feet for 12 hours in front of a hot oven smelling nothing but sugar and butter, all I want to do at the end of the day is sit on the sofa and pout, because no amount of "thanks mom!" is suffice. 

On Christmas Day, I spend most of the day cooking a huge fancy dinner of honey glazed ham, au gratin potatoes, blueberry bread, and whatever the hell else the family has requested.  I set the table with my fine china and crystal, and we eat this glorious meal together. 

All of this baking and cooking is done following weeks of shopping, wrapping, shipping, decorating, crocheting as well as my everyday tasks like budgeting, housework, raising kids, schoolwork, etc. 

You get the point. 

Basically, my holiday is spent working my ass off because that's what I'm supposed to do.  Traditional "good woman" behavior (remember my blog the other day?). 

But yesterday, as Greg and I were on the way to Walmart to shop for last minute baking supplies, I had an epiphany in the parking lot.  It was pouring ice and sleet, the wind was cutting into my face, and I felt absolutely miserable and overwhelmed by all that was left to do. 

So I stopped in the middle of the road, looked at Greg, and said,

"Fuck it.  I don't feel like baking this year." 

Expecting to be regarded as a woman gone insane, Greg said, "Cool.  Let's just keep it simple then." 

And that was that. 

No biggie. 

Instead of cookies, ham and the fine china, I will be throwing a batch of nachos in the oven, a veggie tray, and a bunch of chips and pretzels.  We'll drink Pepsi.  We'll eat store bought cookies. 

On paper plates. 

Paper plates. I know!

By the time we got home, I realized I was free.  All the shopping was done.  Gifts made.  Shipping on the way.  We have no money, but what's new? The house is a mess, but seriously, I'm too tired to care.  And now no baking to weigh down my holiday. 

I was free! 

So I left the kids with Greg, hopped in the truck and drove myself to the craft store where I spent the entire evening browsing around and daydreaming about all of the new projects I would like to start.  I had such a clear head that I wound up picking up a reaaaaalllllly neat gift for Bailey (hopefully she'll hate it and just give it to me) which is a plastic case full of gorgeous beads, jewelry pieces, wire and cutters to make jewelry.  I even noticed that Homespun yarn was on sale for 3.99 a skein---so I bought enough to make myself a prayer shawl as a birthday gift. 

Lisa, I'm gonna try.  I may be emailing you for help. 

I bought some beautiful mint green Simply Soft yarn for an afghan as well. 

By the time I had finished shopping, my head was spinning with creative ideas and project plans.  It was glorious....giving myself the gift of time.  Time to do what is important.  Time to do whatever it is that feels right for me.  Without all the pressures of things I think I have to do, I had time to do things I want to do. 

So I drove home the long way, carefully considering the amount of ice falling from the sky, and looked at all of the houses and businesses adorned with lights, and how the ice on the tree branches made them sparkle.  Everything here is white---my first white christmas---and for the first time since I've been here I realized how absolutely gorgeous it is. 

By the time I got home, it was late.  My kids asked me when I planned to start baking, and I reluctantly told them I had a different plan for this year----party foods and paper plates.  They both cheered and celebrated not having to wash dishes this year; and went on to play PS3 like nothing in the world was wrong. 

Because nothing was wrong.  There is nothing wrong with keeping it simple.  There is nothing wrong with me if I don't feel like slaving away.  The only thing wrong is that I ever thought I had to do all that stuff to begin with. 

I can do anything I want to do, as long as it feels right for me.  Though this may seem obvious to someone else, it huge for me: 

I get to write my own rules. 

My life is my choice. 

So this Christmas Eve morning (it's noon, now, I think), I am still in my pajamas and sipping coffee.  The house is a disaster and the oven is off.  Instead we have donuts and milk; and for lunch we might throw together some submarine sandwiches---I don't know.  Dosen't matter.  The kids have hugged me all morning and told me how much they love me.  Greg called me from work and told me to save him some nachos 'cause he'll be home late.  An afghan from a friend is around my shoulders, reminding me of what's really important.  I have four crochet projects ready to start; all of which I am so excited about.  Tonight I will light my candles and spend some time being quiet, reflecting on this gift that I have given myself: 

This gift of freedom.  To allow myself to do what feels best for me.  To make my own choices. 

And not what I think I should do as a result of fear instilled in me so long ago when I was a child. 

So hold up your eggnog, your Pepsi or whatever it is you're drinking; and toast with me: 

Cheers to being whatever and whomever it is that you want to be....to whatever feels right.  Those who truly love you will appreciate how much happier you are.