Good evening, loves! The weekend ended yesterday...and will start again tomorrow. Amen.
My mom has a many brilliant philosophies and rules. One of them is no Christmas decorations, no Christmas music, and no Christmas baking until post-Thanksgiving. Ever since I can remember, that's how it has been.
But the dessert shop where I work has been celebrating Christmas for a couple weeks already. We've been making peppermint bark. And shipments of reindeer suckers and eggnog truffles have arrived. And the store is decorated with red tablecloths and tin Christmas trees. And soon we'll be wearing Santa hats.
So I want to listen to "Happy Christmas (War is Over)" by the Beatles. And the entire "Snowed In" album by Hanson. And "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" by She & Him. And several goodies from Ol' Blue Eyes...and Mariah Carey.
And I want to spend the day watching Home Alone, It's a Wonderful Life (ooh, James Stewart is so dreamy), the original A Charlie Brown Christmas, the original [The] Grinch, and - of course - Elf.
And I want to go ice-skating. And bake mint-y, fudge-y chocolate cookies. And eat 100 gingerbread cookies. And drink sparkly cranberry punch.
However - like always - mom has a point.
If I listened to (too much) Christmas music, and watched all my favorite Christmas movies, and ate Christmas treats, and did Christmas-y things, I would miss out. I would miss out on squeezing my family when I see them in 24 hours (!), mom's delicious stuffing, Grandma's famous chocolate pie, watching football with my cousins, taking fat cat naps, and having leftover turkey on sandwiches for the next week. Despite being a little obsessed with Christmas this year, I am simply not willing to miss the chance to snuggle up with my family and pig out.
Not to end this post on a heavy note, but:
Nine years ago today my uncle passed away from pancreatic cancer. We had been at the hospital all week - he was due to go home Friday the 23rd (of 2001) - and mom decided the cousins (and my sister and I) needed a break from the hospital. She took us home and made us a Thanksgiving meal. When we got back to the hospital, I parked my twelve-year-old-self in a faded mint green hospital chair and watched TV. An hour later it was pronounced my uncle had gone to Heaven. This holiday is always a little difficult for my dad's side of the family, but we always light a candle for uncle D and thank God for the time we had with him.
I don't want the end of this post to be gloomy. So! I can't believe around a year ago I was:
Celebrating ADP's marriage to her love GP. About a year ago we were going to their around-the-world dinner and ADP's bachelorette party! Love you two very much!
I probably won't be blogging for the rest of the week. I hope you all have a beautiful Thanksgiving. Hug your family, eat too much food, and take turkey-induced comas in front of the TV.