I’m currently attempting to get back into the swing of writing while entertaining Yappy in our hotel room in my hometown. Cutie pup is as happy as a little clam because he got to stay with his people in the hotel last night. He’s a bit of a wild beast this morning with the playtime, but he’s just so darn cute that I’m down here on the floor playing keep away with one of his toys while trying to gather my thoughts.
I’m finding that starting new traditions for me and Hope for major holidays like Christmas is kind of like jeans shopping. You can’t wait to get new jeans but you kind of hate the process of getting jeans. And, you know, despite labels like “curvy” and “straight” there really seems to be little rhyme or reason to picking jeans or traditions that work.
I think that the pressure of figuring out a tradition for us made my funk of the last couple of weeks just that much more awful. I’ve been in an awful place. I don’t think I accounted for putting pressure on myself to some how “get Christmas right” for Hope. I guess the stakes felt higher than I thought. Ironically, as much as Hope was looking forward to Christmas, I think her expectations of me weren’t nearly as high as my own.
And somehow I think I got it right with Hope in spite of myself. We did a nice Christmas Eve with just me, her and Yappy: Hot cocoa at the fancy cocoa bar (they sell wine too #winning); church, a feast of delivery pizza (what you thought I was going to cook the night before traveling???) and gift opening. Fancy cocoa acknowledged the bougie, but the pizza kept it low brow and casual. Church grounded us in the reason for the season, while gift giving made it all fun and universally traditional.
Hope was NOT feeling this plan initially–”Why can’t I open gifts on Christmas like regular people???”, but she came around when she realized that gift opening would be extended another day after getting to the Grands. “It’s like two Christmases!” Oh, and we ate cold pizza for breakfast on Christmas morning, because we were rushing, preventing waste and keeping it classy! #dontjudgeournewtraditions
And my funk of the last few weeks lifted. It’s true; giving heartfelt gifts can make your heart happy. Hope was jazzed over her gifts and her happiness and engagement with her family was amazing. I found myself reflecting on months ago and how scared she was and how standoffish she was. This week she just slid right in to the mix. It all pulled me out of my funk.
Being out of my funk allowed me to step up when the inevitable meltdown occurred one night. Strange hotel, missing first family, anxiety, sadness…it all came to a head in the middle of the night. And we got through it.
Today we head back to our home to settle in the rest of winter break. I’ve got some tricks up my sleeves, some fun activities to do and some rest to get. And I’ve go another new gym to join–seriously if I can’t make it to the gym that is in walking distance to the house and only $10 a month, there really is no hope for me. Liking the old/newish gym (just joined this summer after quitting the old gym), but location and cost are driving this decision.
I think I might’ve stumbled upon the right fit of jeans.