Holy as in-IWasSoStressedIThrewThingsAndYelledForNoGoodReasonAndAmOnlyNowStartingToComeDownOffMyCrazyLadyPlace
Here is what the last seven days looked like for me...
Baby sister arrived home from a semester in Florence, Italy so I threw her a welcome home dinner-Thanksgiving style. Only I have never cooked a turkey in my life, and to make matters worse, the butcher didn't get the two turkey breasts in until the last possible second. Heads were about to roll. But alls well that ended well. She arrived home 40 some minutes late, the turkey breasts were delicious, food was consumed, wine was drank, and we went to bed with full tummies...except our boy Jack because...
He was getting his tonsils and adenoids out in the morning! We were up bright and early the next day for our trip to the surgery center. Our boy was chipper and happy until post-surgery when he was, well, angry and on meds. He wanted his IV out. He wanted to get his clothes on. He wanted to GO HOME. He wanted nothing to do with Popsicles (he hates em) or jello, or juice. He was one pissed off little dude. Of course I would be too. A cup of juice later and a few pain meds and we were packed up and headed home. Problem was, he was pain-free enough that the whole "resting in bed" was not on his agenda. Even if it was on ours. We had a party the very next day. So I spent a good portion of my day yelling at poor boy to just "lay down so you don't bleed out" instead of cooking as I had planned. By the time I got down to making the dough for the doughnuts and the homemade marshmallows I was aching from head to toe, near tears, and snapping at my poor husband. And it was 1am. And we had to give our boy medicine every few hours. Fun times.
Then it was time to party. All was going smoothly. I was mainlining coffee like no one's business. The prime rib my husband makes was in the oven on time and causing strangers to stand in line out front with plates and knives. Potatoes were cut and in water. Drinks were mixed and on stand-by. The cheese tray was beautiful and sitting at the ready on our new bar. So I took a shower. Because it was time and I wanted to be pretty for our guests. But my blow dryer decided this would be a golden opportunity to stop functioning completely. Without warning. And thus began my descent into madness. I became a raging Medusa. I screamed. I threw the blow dryer. I threw its components. I slammed drawers, doors, brushes, trash cans and anything else that came into view. I yelled at my poor husband. And then it happened. I slammed the bathroom door, turned and flew like Bambi onto the bathroom floor. My knee still looks like it swallowed a golf ball. Luckily this snapped me out of my rage (into tears of pain) long enough to become resourceful and thank my lucky stars I'd purchased a straightening iron the previous day. Hair was fixed just in time for our guests to arrive. Clark Family Christmas went off without a hitch. Prime Rib was consumed in obscene amounts. Whiskey sours were downed by the adults. Then mulled cider with homemade fried doughnuts. Children and adults opened gifts with squeals of delight. I felt the warm embrace of family and sighed many deep sighs.
Now it is Thursday...five days post-rush. I am just now starting to feel human again. Just now starting to feel like I can stop pulling my hair out at the roots. Sidenote-if I did that, I wouldn't need a blow dryer though! I am still a bit snappy, but it is easing each day. Our boy is healing remarkably well from his surgery. We are sleeping through the nights again. I am looking forward to Christmas Eve when we cook up a delicious gourmet meal for the three of us, drive to see the luminaria in New Rochester, sing holiday songs in the car, open a few gifts by firelight, watch a holiday movie and have homemade hot cocoa. It is just what my soul needs. A perfect, delicious, quiet night with my two favorite boys. Christmas couldn't bring me a better gift.
Happy Holidays readers. I hope yours are filled with the best of memories, family and friends.
notes from the middle
