Every year I look forward to the first signs of Christmas. The wanna be home decorator begins dreaming of new ways I can transform my home into a Christmas wonderland. I almost cheer when the stores begin playing Christmas music right after Halloween!
This year was no different. I usually begin decorating on Thanksgiving weekend. Since our Christmas decorations are up in the attic I have to wait for my He-man son Sean to get them down. Unfortunately for me, Sean doesn't quite have the same enthusiasm for decorating the house as my daughter and I have. It took a week of hounding before he finally got them down for me.
It's Wednesday night, right in the middle of my work week. I'm tired and fatigued but excited to finally be able to get the decorations up. My daughter and I have always decorated the house together and we both were like two kids in a candy shop. Traditionally we have always played Christmas music, but this year my daughter asked to sway a bit from tradition and play some of her favorite music instead. Wanting to be the hip, cool mom I agreed to her request with a little inner disappointment. After five minutes the music began to grate on me and I regretted not sticking with tradition. I believe that's when the Grinch began to seep into my oxygen deprived brain.
Everything began going down hill from that point on. First, the lights in the tree wouldn't light in two rows of the tree (we have a fake tree because of allergies, yuck). Just trying to hold my arms up to check each individual light and afterward spreading the branches so they look somewhat natural was exhausting. It was at this point that "Ms. snippy" took over my body. Then the light for the manger of the nativity scene wouldn't work so "Ms. Whinny" joined "Ms. Snippy". I'm sure at this point my daughter was thinking it's time to put me in my room for a "time out". Thankfully she was still in her "happy place" joyfully humming away to her music. We finally get the lights to work on the Christmas tree and it's time to wrap the tree with ribbon. I begin to help, but my arms are no longer of any use to either of us, so my daughter points to the couch and tells me to sit. My daughter busily finishes the ribbon and asks for my opinion (what she really wanted was praise for a job well done). "Ms Perfectionist" and "Ms. Impatient" joined the party of attitude crashers, and I begin "fixing" the ribbon, only to have to start over. My joyful assistant Megan leaves the room with a few attitude crashers that I created "Ms. Not Good Enough" and "Ms. Angry". I get the ribbon in place and the pain and fatigue have taken over and I give up on the long anticipated Christmas decorating and head for a bath.
As I'm soaking in my "extreme" bubble bath with the jacuzzi jets on full blast, my conscience begins to take over. I begin to mull over what was the real culprit of the evening. I realize I'm not upset with the lights, nativity scene or the ribbon placement. I'm really angry at my POTS for stealing one more good thing from me. Can't I do anything normal without the reminder that I have POTS! Many questions begin to surface. Did I have this much trouble decorating last year? No. Does this mean I'm getting worse? Maybe. What will things be like in a year from now. Stop, stop, stop! I need to stop worrying about tomorrow and deal with today. I just crushed my precious daughter's spirit, and I need to take responsibility for my actions. It's time to kick out the attitude crashers and eat some humble pie.
I did what I needed to do, apologize to my daughter, praise her for a job well done, and thank her for the amazing help she is to me. Then I fell into bed knowing that I'm blessed to have an amazing, helpful and forgiving daughter.
When I woke up the following morning the house was completely decorated by my awesome daughter. I might have POTS, but I also have two amazing children, a wonderful home that can be decorated, food on my table, friends and family to share the good times and the bad. Just another reminder to remember the good always outweighs the bad.
"But if God so arrays the grass in the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the furnace, how much more will He clothe you, O men of little faith!"