My friend, she-who-shall-not-be-named, and I both have 3 sons. We live in the same neighborhood, and our kids go to the same school. We both also have one of our sons in 4th grade. In the same class. And they both have the same name! I know, right? Who’da thought that Pickles was such a popular name that year?
Being awesome (and more importantly, willing) she-who-shall-not-be-named agreed that she
did not want me following through with those blackmail threats might like to do a guest blogger post with me!! Squeeeee! Cloud 8 is so much more fun with friends! She was feeling rather Grinchy at the end of this holiday season and really thought that idea spoke to her the most. Here’s what came pouring out of her awesome head:
Forgive me, my friends, I’ve lost my Holiday cheer. The Family and I have enjoyed several days of rest, food and togetherness and it has been beyond wonderful. But, I am done with the Holidays. Since October it has been non-stop, Happy Halloween, Happy Thanksgiving, Happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas, Happy Kwanzaa, and now Happy New Year. (Editor’s note: I think you forgot All Saint’s Day, All Soul’s Day, Veteran’s Day, Pearl Harbor Day, and Wright Brothers Day. Sheesh, I can’t believe you don’t celebrate those. Your kids are so sheltered.)
It has been a solid 3 months of extra salutations and expectations. I was spooky for Halloween, thankful for Thanksgiving, respectful of friends who celebrated Hanukkah, giving on Christmas, learning about the 7 principles of Kwanzaa, and for New Years, well… I’m done! And enjoying my new self-imposed title, “NEW YEAR’S GRINCH” fits me like a favorite pair of jeans. You know you are smiling and feeling me on this, too. I proudly announce I have no resolutions or special projects I am gearing up for. None. Nada. Zilch. When the grocery checkout girl asked what I was doing for the New Year, I told her I just wanted to be in bed by 10. (Editor’s note: I was in bed shortly after 10. Is that wrong?) In reality I spent New Year’s Eve at the ER with a child who had 104 temperature and the disposition of a rabid dog. Good Times.
I look back at New Year’s past and laugh at myself, counting backwards from 10 and watching with intensity for the ball to drop. Amusements our society practices can be peculiar. (Editor’s note: Sweet Pea, who has never seen Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve, always thought that when the ball dropped, it smashed on the ground and exploded. That’s why he wanted to watch it, of course.) And today, on 1/1/11, I really don’t feel like starting my conversations with an obligatory, “Happy New Year”. I don’t mean any harm or malice. I wish the best for my friends and family on each day, not just one designated by our culture to have some grand meaning. Perhaps if our New Year were in June instead of crammed in at the end of 5 different holidays that come off the top of my head, not to mention the ones I may be completely ignorant to I would be less Grinch-ish. (Editor’s Note: I dunno, June is a really busy time with swim team and all… Maybe May? I don’t think there are any good holidays in May. But the weather is nice and it’s Doodle Dog’s B-day… February is pretty boring, maybe that would be better…)
Special thanks to She-who-shall-not-be-named for the blogging baptism by fire. You. rock!! xoxoxo