This time last year, I was 11 months pregnant, or at least felt like it. The last thing I wanted to do was spend a ton of time decorating for the holidays. We were still trying to finish a bathroom and redo and decorate the nursery.
I had priorities, mainly getting that child out of me. If we celebrated the holidays at all, it was just icing on the cake. My only motivation for getting through the holidays was that once they were over, Gizmo would be born.
The holidays stress me out. The shopping, the parties, the cooking, the traveling. I remember feeling slightly disappointed after Peanut's first Christmas because it just didn't seem as Magical as I thought it should be. I was so hell bent on making everything Magical that I didn't stop to just freaking enjoy what was happening.
But this year, I am not going to let myself get stressed out. I will not be a spaz anymore. OK, I will try not to be a spaz.
I'm not going to worry that I have no idea what I am getting the girls for Christmas or for Gizmo's first birthday (or when we are going to celebrate her birthday for that matter.) I'm not going to worry about when the decorating is going to get done. I'm not going to worry about how the girls are going to react to spending the next 6 weeks in the car, traveling to see everyone.
I'm going to enjoy my baby's first birthday. I'm going to enjoy writing a letter to Santa with Peanut for the first time. I'm going to relax and laugh when Peanut and Gizmo "help" their father make Christmas cookies and make a mess. I'm going to take lots of pictures of the girls in their special Christmas pjs while they open up presents.
I'm going to soak it all in because it goes too fast. Worrying doesn't slow it down. It just makes me get gray hair faster.