December 17, 2004


I'm not sure why I thought things would slow down once The Boy got home. It's the holiday season after all. It seems things never slow down during the holiday season. I feel like I've been racing from one thing to another, doing none of the things I want to be doing for as long as I want to be doing them. Instead I'm doing things that have to be done for much much longer than I want to be doing them.

So much to do. Only a limited amount of time. Wanting to do it all yet knowing it all can't be done.

I was looking forward to this weekend. Getting our tree, wrapping some presents, finalizing the details of who is going sleep where on what, deciding what to feed everyone, grocery shopping and playing in the kitchen, getting our house and ourselves into the spirit by enjoying the rituals of the season. Creature of habit I am, remember?

I don't know what I expected The Boy to be doing during all this. Just being here I guess. Available for me to say things like "*insert his actual name*, can you please help me lift *insert name of something heavy*?" or "*insert his actual name*, it's time to put the lights on the tree!" or "*insert his actual name*, can I make you a sandwich?"

Instead, he had the nerve to take a job for the weekend. A job that will pay him good money. Actually it will pay him and the fellow who drove him home good money. Yet it's money they'll have to earn by working all weekend.

And isn't that just one more joy of parenthood? Being pleased yet disappointed at the same time? You'd think by now I'd have learned to temper my expectations.

So today. I'll re-organize my expectations. Re-order my thought processes. I'll look forward to this weekend for the same reasons, just in a different way.

It's all good.

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