Holiday Hell

I lived it this evening. It actually took one hour to get out of the parking lot of the Fox Run Mall because the traffic was so insane. Why in the world was I at the mall 3 days before Christmas at the end of the business day? Because The Girl needed to buy presents for her friends. It was a little bit bad getting into the mall around 3:30. It was insanity trying to get out an hour later. 

And somehow, I seem to find myself in that position every year because I think, "Oh, it's early enough in the day for me to just run in and get that little whatever it is I need to pick up without too much trouble." It's like a roach motel. Easy to get into and impossible to escape! 

Christmas Crunch

I thought I had it all under control when it came to knitting Christmas presents this year. I started before Thanksgiving and had a few gifts done even before December rolled around. And yet, here it is, less than a week before Christmas and I have four projects that need to be finished. It's not impossible to finish them all in time, but it would help a lot if I stopped wasting hours doing things the wrong way and then re-doing them the right way. That would definitely help.

Channukah and a Ramble

I made latkes and noodle kugel for dinner tonight, for what has become our traditional Channukah dinner. The latkes are a little bit labor intensive, but they're tasty and since it's just a once a year thing, I don't mind making them. Noodle kugel was something I think I only ate once or twice as a kid. It wasn't a regular feature of my family's holiday meals, but I made it last year and it was really good, in an artery bursting kind of way. Again, something that's fine to eat ionce a year. Hell, anything made with a stick of butter, 8 eggs (!!) sugar and sour cream is likely to be rich and to taste pretty good to me.
Speaking of which, I'm all chubbed out again. And I really don't care that much. It could be my age, the wintry weather or something, but for right now it seems ok to not obsess over every morsel of food that goes down my throat. Life has not and will not be compromised because I am 5 or 6 pounds over the number I think should be my absolute top weight. Nothing terrible has befallen me. I'm still getting exercise and trying to drink enough water and be generally healthy. My boyfriend has not fled in terror and run off with a skinny chick. My daughter still talks (and talks and talks) to me. My students all still like me and show up to class and work and listen. My dog still adores me and follows me around the house like a ... puppy dog. There has been no major inconvenience resulting from this. What a notion!
I like food, dammit. I like to make it. I like to eat it. I like to think about it, read about it, and talk about it. I like to look at pretty pictures of it. So yeah, me and food and the scale are coming to some kind of understanding where I'm going to stop admonishing myself every time I step on the scale, but I'll act like a reasonable and healthy adult and eat well and enjoy it.
And another thing. A conversation I had this evening with my boyfriend turned another light on over my head. I'm Jewish. I can opt out of all the Christmas hype on the grounds of that, even if I'm not the most Jewish-y Jew you'll ever find. I am not obligated to jump whole hog into being Perfect Miss Christmas. I mean really, why the hell does my family give Christmas presents to each other when we're all Jewish? That's just silly. The season has its lovely moments and no, I won't be offended if anyone wishes me a Merry Christmas. But it's really okay if I decide I don't want to play along in full force.

First Snow

It seems to me that usually the first snow of the season sprinkles down prettily for 20 or 30 minutes and then melts away. That's not how it went today. It snowed from mid-morning to mid-afternoon and then turned to drizzle. It was a gray, cold, wet and crappy day. I was happy about the snow for the first hour or so. Then I had to go outside.
I tried taking the dog out for his usual evening walk, in the pitch darkness of 5 pm. He wasn't willing to go along with the program. I think I liked being out there more than he did. Eventually I had enough of his lollygagging and questioning looks and turned around to head home.
I'm officially on Thanksgiving vacation. I'm partially happy and partially not, because I'm fighting the urge to drown myself in either carbs, chocolate alcohol, or a combination of all three. I'm trying to make that just a one-day event on The Day itself and not an excuse for a week (or even half week) of debauchery.

I Am What I Am

Here on Day No. 17 of NaBloPoMo I have come to the realization that I am able to participate in this endeavor because I basically have no life.
Well, it's not that I don't have a life. I just have a rather predictable, settled life. That's not really so bad considering I am a 42 year old with a child, a committed relationship, a steady job and a couple of pets. I'm a homebody, damnit! There are worse ways to go through life. I went out one night last week. To the local Meet Up for knitters. And it was fun. I enjoy hanging out with other women who are obsessed with yarn.
The other highlight of the week (or of the past few days, which is all I seem to recall in any detail. Anything further back then that is pretty much a blur) was that I baked my first-ever cheesecake. It was a trial run of a new recipe I'm planning to make for Thanksgiving. After extensive quality testing I have declared that it has passed the test and is now approved for Thanksgiving worthiness. This year my brother-in-law is in charge of the meal and I'm handling the deserts. I'm really looking forward to it. My bro-in-law is an excellent cook and Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. After that I can start worrying full-time about what to buy people for Christmas presents.

Day is Done

Christmas has come and gone. It's funny how much I let it all escalate when it's not even "my" holiday to begin with. I'm from a Jewish family and never had the whole hoopla associated with the holiday that so many other folks here in the States grew up with. There is no magical splendor of a childhood Christmas remembered that I am trying to emulate.
It wasn't really a big deal for me at all until I became a mother and then intensified a thousand fold when I was a mother in a troubled marriage in a foreign country and then even more again once I became a single mother back home in my original stomping grounds. Part of it is certainly a reaction to spending over a dozen years in a marriage where my partner thought all holidays and celebrations were a waste of time; distasteful, sentimental foolery at worst and not worth his time and effort at best. So for years I was fighting to convince myself that celebrations and traditions mattered and weren't just crutches for people who couldn't stay out of the mush.
Now I'm at a point where I can savor the traditions I know from the past and even feel confident enough to initiate one or two new ones of my own. This year saw our second annual cookie baking extravaganza. Last year's bash may have had more participants, but this years' was intimate and just as memorable. And the cookies were just as tasty. And I've come up with some ideas for ways to mark the end of the old year and greet the new one.
The court has had its say on holiday scheduling issues and this year sees me losing a few days with my girl that I'd have with her in a regular week. Oh well, such is life. We are making the time count by spending it well all together. And if I let myself fall into a funk over things that aren't able to be, all I really need to do is take a look back at where some things stood just a year ago and rejoice in the progress that has happened over the past year. One year ago I was stuck in a situation where I had to regularly bring my girl to a therapist who tried to paint me as uncaring and worthy of scorn, despite my attempts to be honest and open, and who seemed to encourage my daughter's estrangement. Now we are half a year free of that closed-minded quack and I relish every hug and kiss my girl bestows upon me. And the silly jokes, silly dancing, group hugs, the line-up of "family feet" and even the gaseous volleys all really make my heart swell. We used all of our patience and wisdom to let things grow and unfold without pushing. If waiting for that silly piece of paper calls for a little more patience, then we will be patient. I'd much rather have us all be in eager anticipation than reluctant co-habitation.