We are spending Christmas with my in-laws in The Peg this year. This may be the first time ever and we’ve been married for 25 years. It’s not that I don’t like my in-laws and try to avoid them or anything. It’s just that for the first decade or so, my mom wasn’t well and we stuck around to be with her. After she died, my dad wasn’t well and we stuck around over the holidays to be with him. He’s in a home and frankly wouldn’t know Christmas from Halloween so we are free to head out West.
I worry because of unrealistic expectations. That’s always the problem over the holidays—all the hype and the hustle and the bustle and the spending. It’s has to be great, right? If it’s not (and it never lives up to the gingerbread images in our heads) we are upset. I tend to set the bar low to avoid disappointment. Like, if no one gets in a car crash, it’s a great Christmas. Or if no one gets food poisoning, that would be a win.
Also, it’s tough this year because we are leaving the dogs in a kennel. They will pamper them like crazy but it still hurts. The Schmooze loves opening presents, even if they aren’t for her. The puppy–aka Squirt—likes anything her big sister likes. What’s extra tough is that this year The Schmooze has a sore tail. She laid down on the cold grass and ended up with limber tail syndrome. Nothing to do but rest and give her pain meds, although laser therapy has helped it a bit. Still, I feel guilty as hell. It doesn’t help that I’m always the one who has to drop the dogs off at the kennel. Why is my husband always too busy? Hmmmm?
Anyway, Merry Merry to everybody. Hug your dogs for me.