Are we cloning people yet? Because that’s what I need. A clone. Or a personal assistant.
I want someone to leave at home to do the cleaning – and I mean all the cleaning: clean and reorganize my daughters’ room; clean our bedroom; run all the donations to Goodwill; do a toy purge.
I didn’t get to a toy purge this year, and we are about to get a bunch of stuff. Allegedly. Maybe we weren’t very good this year.
I want someone to do all the running around I need to do, but I’m kind of out of time to do, because full-time job (that I love). So now I have to do it in the evenings, as well as help my children finish buying presents, then wrap them. As well as a Christmas chorus concert (Kate) and gymnastics practice (Kate again) and baking for my job (that I love) and for Flora’s social study class. (Last night’s announcement went like this: “Mom, mom! I need a traditional Irish Christmas dessert! I need to make it and bring it to school on Wednesday!”)
And, you know, regular life: job (that I love), children to send to school (through Thursday), children to feed. Cleaning, constant cleaning.
I am going to have to sit down with these children and impress on them the absolute need for cleanliness this week. That should be fun.
It might be easier to tell them to play in their rooms.
Anyhoo! It’s fine, it’s good. This is normal. Mostly.
I feel like I’m usually a little closer to done by now. But maybe not.
And money. More of it. Or less debt.
Alternatively, my husband could come home from his full-time job (which he loves and at which he is *very* good), fix the kitchen sink with his oldest daughter, then proceed to participate in the cleaning of the kitchen and the front room. We can plan the rest of the week to the best of our abilities — I made a list; it is very long — decide how we are going to divide and conquer (I have most of the children stuff, and all of the baking and cooking). And then he could stay up, clean both bathrooms, and put plastic up on the bathroom window. Somehow or another, he ruined my toothbrush he told me. I declined to ask for details.
Somehow or another, even though 2016 hasn’t been awesome, and, frankly, 2017 isn’t looking like anything to look forward to, we are going to make this a good Christmas for us. There will be grief, no doubt. But more importantly, there will be love, and family, and the birth of Jesus, and church, and food, and gifts.
Maybe that is all I want for Christmas: a tiny island of love and faith in a mad world. The cleanliness of the island could be less important than who is on it.
Copyright for feature image: alexmaster / 123RF Stock Photo We don’t even have a fireplace, but that looks heavenly.