it’s the holiday season

Life is busy. I’m sure I’ve mentioned that from time to time. Add to that the fact that I’m a planner, and enjoy the holidays, and things get a little busier. Earlier this week, I made salted caramels. Something I only do once a year (at most) because the whole process takes 7 or 8 hours (with a 24 hour holding period in between). Several of you who read this blog were going to receive a bag of them with a card reminding you of how thankful I am for you. The cards and caramels were ready to be put in the mail tomorrow. I left them on my craft table in the garage where it’s nice and cool.

Tonight Rob beat me home. That doesn’t happen often, but turns out it was lucky timing tonight, because what he found when he went into the garage was something my heart might not have been able to take. About 1/3 of the caramels were gone – wrappers strewn all over the floor, and the cards were now tattered and scattered in all corners of the garage. This is bad for many reasons. Of course Mommy was not going to be happy – but additionally, we have the misfortune of a labrador with a sensitive stomach. On several occasions we have had multiple nights of no sleep – the ‘good’ times were when she just needed to go out every half hour, the ‘bad’ nights were spent at the vet emergency room.

Let me preface this next section of the story by saying that I am not a yeller. Rob is the Irish/Italian who always reminds me that people on the east coast speak with a more animated tone, because sometimes I even interpret ‘animated tones’ as yelling. But tonight, when Rob told me what happened, and I walked into the garage to see the devastation, I was not happy. And when Chelsea came over to say hello, I yelled at her, “GET OUT OF MY FACE!!”. I’m not proud of it, but it’s the truth.

Brendan was over by the door of the garage, and with a questioning tone, I heard him say, “Mommy?” while he hurriedly walked in my direction with a concerned look in his eyes.

And with that, I snapped out of it. I scooped up the littlest love of my life and held him close while I whispered in his ear that I was sorry. That Mommy was very upset at something Chelsea had done, but that she shouldn’t have yelled. And I meant it. I made those damn caramels and wrote those damn cards because I have SO MUCH to be thankful for. I have friends who constantly remind me how much they care and how much I need them by loving me unconditionally even though I am busy and introverted and a million other silly things. I have parents who signed up for an exercise class three days a week and who are in their best health ever all because they want to keep up with every step of their grandson. I have extended family that reaches to many places all over the United States, including a certain family in Iowa for whom my heart cries out mountains of gratitude on a daily basis. And of course the two loves of my life – one big and one little – both of whom complete my heart, and make me a better person in big and little ways. And even a brown dog, who has faults just like the rest of us – but who never fails to let the small person crawl all over her, and who allows me to cuddle her when the small person is too busy to sit still.

What do I have to be angry about? There is no room for anything in my heart but gratitude and thanksgiving. Caramels and cards won’t make or break that reality.

And with that, Rob called me out to the garage. He was wearing his headband flashlight thingy which is never a good sign. He explained that he was taking out the trash, and saw a suspicious looking pile in the mulch. As he smoothed it over, he realized that the mound of mulch was covering a caramel. Chelsea didn’t eat a third of my caramels, she buried some of her treasure for later. Just like she used to bury bones under couch cushions and bed pillows when we first brought her home to our apartment in the city.
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Rob went scavenging and here was the bounty he discovered in piles all over the backyard:

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Please note – if you are one of the few people who will still receive a caramel, I promise you it will not be one of these previously buried caramels.

And this is the perfect way to start my holiday season. With the reminder that it’s the love, not the gifts or even the effort that is most important. That life is short, and childhood is shorter, and holidays are shorter still – so filling every moment with more items on the to do list will only reduce my opportunities for holiday magic, and will definitely make me more on edge when things don’t go as planned. And when things don’t go as planned – it’s okay. Sometimes it may even end up being the funniest part of my day if I can view it from a relaxed perspective.

Hopefully Chelsea chose to be a ‘saver’ more than a ‘spender’ – because the more she buried and the fewer she ate, the better chance we have of getting some sleep over the next few nights. And if our pooch does need some extra attention, hopefully I can reply with love and concern for her – and perhaps even enjoy a walk in the quiet night air, and cuddle up for a morning nap and a pumpkin latte, rather than cursing my lack of sleep.