I’m alive. Merry Christmas. Nobody’s getting a card this year. Sorry folks. I’m all out of extra.
The year started with the funeral of one grandparent and ended with another. I was in the ER twice. Diagnosed with a weird autoimmune thing with hives for days. The amount of antihistamines that passed through my system should have meant I slept really well, but what is life.
We put our kids in public school for the first time. A much bigger deal for me than even for them, to be honest, but all in all, upheaval all around.
Of course there is also all the everyday busyness of being a 6 person and 1 cat household. The stuff of beauty and exhaustion.
Bills. So many bills.
Fall into bed grateful that you made it through the day to your pillow. Wake up to the sunrise and do it all again.
So, for Christmas cards, you’re all getting medical bills from me. Merry Christmas, here’s a lab charge. Happy Holidays, you get an MRI with contrast bill. Happy New Year to you, a medication that insurance didn’t cover.
I mean that with a dash of sarcasm and a boundless flow of gratitude. My heart and my soul are awake. I am living. Feeling my life. Being in the middle of it all. Participating in my own story. Championing for thrival.
So from my people and I, Happy effing Holidays. Live your life, peeps. Embrace the messy. Blow off the arbitrary expectations. Find the sacred in your mundane insanity.
Merry Christmas to all.