It’s okay to not be okay. It’s a familiar feeling at times, as my kids are getting older...Christmas Eve comes (out of NOWHERE), and the day is generally sweet and magical. And then it’s gone. Christmas Day comes (even quicker) and the presents are opened, trash picked up, and the emptiness under the tree just stares at me. It’s not about the gifts (or the lack thereof), it’s just the reminder that the Holiday has come and gone, once again...and when it returns in a year, my kids will be even older, and things may be less magical.
In the silence of our house on December 25th, with the kids and even my husband sound asleep...I look at the dark tree, and the fireplace that doesn’t have a fire blazing within it. (It needs to be cleaned from the day before, and our tree lights were on a timer that I didn’t feel like turning back on.) It was dark. It was quiet. And I sat there reflecting on the day. Could it have been better? Was I wrong to get the kids iPads when I already loathe screen time anyway? Did I keep my patience the best that I could? Did I share the gospel of Jesus WELL enough with my family?
December 26th comes...I finally sleep in. My body apparently finally relaxed and I slept soundly until 10:30 in the morning. (Thank God for a husband who wakes earlier and who doesn’t mind his wife sleeping in…) I pour a cup of coffee and immediately just feel--OFF. Not mad, not sad, not angry, not happy, not anything, just off. I look around and while we’ve done a pretty great job at keeping clutter/messes to a minimum, I am even more frustrated by the clumps of Golden Retriever hair floating in the corners and (very few) dishes in the sink. I checked the temperatures outside often, wondering whether I should run outside or not...if I should go to the barn and ride, or not. Ultimately I decided to get into warm running attire and head out. I prayed my knee could handle it, that my lungs wouldn’t burn too much from the cold, and that I could do at least six miles. With the music in my ears, I took deep breaths and I took off. The pavement underneath me felt like a punching bag for my feet. With every mile, I felt lighter, and lighter, more accomplished, more okay.
Half way through the run I paused on a bridge that overlooked a mostly frozen creek. I thanked God for my strength, for legs that can so far do this, and for loving me, even when I feel unlovable. The day has generally and still feels OFF for me. The run was great, I feel thankful to have gotten it done...but my brain is still trying to figure out what it’s thinking. I mean really; I can’t stop thinking about my businesses, what more I can do for them, about school or work starting back in a week, about motherhood and if I’m doing alright?
This post is a conundrum post. I can’t explain how I’m feeling, not well anyway. So I guess the moral of it is that I feel like at least one person reading this may be feeling something similar, and I think it’s okay. It’s okay to have the Christmas Blues--that’s what I’m declaring this. The twinkly lights will soon be taken down, the tree put away, and while you may be wondering why that matters? I mean, you may not be a Christmas lover like me, so it might not seem like a huge deal. But it’s bigger than Christmas I think...I think it’s the letdown of the beautiful anticipation that December has been to me. And I’ve said it before...I’m struggling in this current season of motherhood and I am trying so hard to pray and trust and to find contentment in the stages that my children are in.
I sit here and remember their first, second, third, fourth Christmases...when your son doesn’t come into the living room and say, “That’s from Target!” about his Santa gift...when their hands and wrists still had those baby dimples in them. When you were able to rock them in rocking chairs while you stared at the twinkly lights, thinking back then, maybe you were excited for them to be a bit older and bigger and to need you a little less.
The Christmas Blues. Does this make sense? Mamas...can you feel this tonight? I’m hitting POST, and praying as I do. Tomorrow is a new day. New strength, new thoughts, new memories, new laughter, and more love. If you needed this post, will you let me know? Email me or comment below. I’d love to give you a virtual hug and be here in this walk of adulting and parenting with you.
