As I do every morning when I wake up, I head downstairs to make coffee. I futz around in the kitchen while it brews, feed and water the cat, then pour blessed fresh brewed java into my favorite, new red Krispy Kreme bistro mug with whatever flavored creamer strikes my morning fancy. Then it’s back upstairs to the office where I fire up the computer and hit the switch to turn on the stereo. And what do I hear on my favorite country music station this morning? A rendition of Silent Night. Don’t ask me who the artist is because I haven’t yet had my first cup of coffee, but I think it’s a Garth Brooks version.

The first words I hear as the stereo comes to life this morning are something about “all is calm, all is bright” and I, well, I laughed. Not a big robust laugh because it is three a.m., after all, and the DH is sleeping across the hall. I value my morning quiet time too much to wake him, or the dog who will undoubtedly want to go out and then beg for a cookie.

Yes, I realize the song has religious overtones, but my thoughts this morning as I snicker about the calm and bright thing is that there nothing calm about Christmas time. Although my nest is empty these days, I find there isn’t a calm anything about my holiday preparations, either. In fact, I’m downright exhausted this morning. A glance at the calendar tells me there are still a few days left until the craziness is over and done. Yet it won’t end with Christmas day. In fact, it probably won’t stop until New Year’s Day.

Although I’ve shopped until I’ve dropped, there are after Christmas sales to get through. Who can walk away from gift wrap and all the trimmings at 50% off? My willpower just isn’t that strong.

Although I’ve baked, made candies and have a good deal of holiday meal preparations done, we’ll no doubt be eating left overs until New Year’s Day. I just don’t know when to stop.

Although I’ve knitted sweaters and other what nots for our six grandbabies, there are still three grandbabies and two sons with birthdays the first quarter of the new year to make gifts for. Too bad those after Christmas sales don’t extend to the local yarn shop, huh?

And although I’m good and beat and could use a darn good nap that lasts for two days or more, I realize that my snickers over calm and bright are because I wouldn’t have my holidays any other way but crazy.

I haven’t been shy about sharing my battle with cancer. Because of that wicked battle, the past two years I wasn’t able to enjoy the craziness of the holidays. I just wasn’t physical capable of any of it, and it broke my heart. This year, thank the Goddesses, is different. This year I’ve been able to embrace every wild and wacky moment, and I’ve done my best to make up for lost time.

This year I was able to brave the shopping malls and I’ve done so with joy. I didn’t even flip the bird to the rude woman who cut me off and stole the parking place I was waiting for oh-so-patiently. I stood in lines and hunted out bargains and did it all without the DH in tow because I was able to do it all by myself this year.
I’ve baked and cooked up a storm so much that I hear the timer going off in my sleep. I sat back and smiled like a loon as I looked at my living room last week, cluttered with gift wrap and bows and packages still waiting to be wrapped and large packing cartons waiting to be filled with items to ship off to family members. I knitted like a mad woman for months to get everything done that I wanted done. And I’ve loved every second of it.

Calm? Pffftttt! Not for me thankyouvery much. Give me the craziness. Bring on the crowds. So what if the kitchen temporarily resembles a disaster zone? Fifteen minutes on the treadmill will kill off the extra calories — eventually. Let the cat steal the colorful ribbon that was just “right there.” Let it be crazy. Let it be wild. Let it be anything but calm.

So what about you? Are your holidays crazy? And would you really have it any other way?