Countdown to Hibernation

The first hump of the holiday season (the nearly skipped-over family gathering known as Thanksgiving) is passed, and now we are careening head-first into the month of December and the terrifying finale known as Christmas. Knowing what Christmas is really about, Charlie Brown, we have been gradually building a stash of age inappropriate toys for our kids. The house is continually messy, my brain feels like it's going to explode. Planning, budgeting, decorating a tree with the ornaments all on the top half, drooling on my son's head while we grab an improvised nap on the couch--all staples of our (how did I not see this coming?!) hectic life. I know it is for the greater good, though. The greater good, in this case, being my reward for not allowing the stress to get the best of me and send me running for those proverbial hills: Winter Hibernation.

This is something new for me. Last year, it was unintentional. The amount of snow coupled with the lack of salt on the roads here in North Idaho left Aurelia and I to hide out on the living room floor for the winter months. I wanted to go out, to get my kid some socialization; to get myself some adult contact. This year (since I can't talk to adults anyway as evidenced by my one-syllable contributions to Thursday's table talk) I have decided to keep it the frik together for just five more weeks, and then to lapse into a stress and snow-induced coma.

I'll return to work come January; I've been reassured, just today, that I still have a job--HUZZAH! Beyond work, the occasional play date, well-plotted trips to the supermarket and working out (please go away, baby weight; I am done with you!), Thad, Aurelia and I will wish you well from the comfort and safety of our cozy (a synonym for cramped) home.

34 days till January 1 and, with it, the room to breathe.