Random person: "How was your Thanksgiving?"
Me: "Um, I stayed home & took a nap."
Random person: "OH MY GOD! THAT'S SO SAD!! DON'T YOU HAVE FAMILY!? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? I'M CRYING!? THIS IS SO FUCKED UP! I CAN'T STAND IT!"
Blah Blah Blah.
Yeah, I could lie. I could say, "OH IT WAS SO WONDERFUL, THE TURKEY WAS JOYFULLY MOIST." But that's not me. I'd rather be honest. We can't live a lie. My story is my life, I wouldn't change it for anything no matter how bizarre it is.
It would be one thing if I didn't have kids. But I do, and so I have to try to fit them into this bizarre amoebic holiday construct, and make sure that they enjoy it, and feel that it fulfills their child-view of a "GOOD" holiday. Or at least that is what I'm thinking in my brain.
I know I place a lot of pressure on myself in this. and I feel constant guilt. It SUCKS that I can't just have the perfect Hallmark holiday card family dinners for them!
On Thanksgiving I was scrolling through my Instagram, seeing everyone gathered around a table like this having a wonderful time and I just couldn't help thinking... WHAT DID I DO WRONG.
For Christmas, I want that little gramma and grandpa making cookies with the kids:
But it just isn't to be.
I have to embrace what I DO have. and not mourn what I do not.
There's nothing I can do to change my situation, and YOU KNOW WHAT!? I have the most wonderful children in the whole world, and all I'm going to do is love them with all my heart and roll through these waves of weirdness with them!
MERRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS!