Less than a week away, to be precise. I suppose I'm ready, at least on the surface. Most of the presents are purchased, if not wrapped, and things are settled as far as most of our holiday plans, such as they are...
Since I last wrote, Stephen has been doing pretty well. The child adores going to school - and today is the last day he'll be there for two weeks. I have to admit that I feel more than a little trepidation about this. The abrupt lack of structure and the innate craziness of holiday time could add up to problems for him. The only thing we can do is try to keep him busy, and do our best to plan a few outings so that he isn't cooped up inside all the time. But still, I worry. There's that squirmy feeling in my stomach that I really, really get sick of...
I think one of the main sources of my stress comes from that uneasy, unsure way of life. I sometimes feel like I'm walking on a tightrope, balancing a bunch of plates or something. Trying desperately to move forward but nearly motionless because I'm trying not to DROP anything. Will Stephen sleep tonight? Will he wake up too early and refuse to let me turn on the lights? Will he be okay at school? Will he get that stomach virus that's inevitably going around?
I just realized that last paragraph makes me seem like a world-class worrywart - and perhaps that's a fair assessment. But the problem is that those things DO happen. Maybe not regularly, but often enough to put the questions in my head frequently. And it gets crowded up there.
Last year's holiday time went pretty smoothly - in fact, I wrote about it here. I have no real reason to think that this year WON'T go as smoothly. So why torture myself with the "what if's"? I don't know. Maybe I'm just naturally a pessimistic person...for years I have often let myself imagine the worst possible outcomes, hoping to be pleasantly surprised when the worst DIDN'T happen.
That's kind of sick, now that I think about it.
Pausing to type this on my last day of work, as I contemplate two weeks off to enjoy Christmas and time with family, I am reminded of the holiday tradition of counting one's blessings, and I certainly have some worth counting...
A husband who has worked so hard this year as he helps take care of our family. Two boys who love me, and who make me smile every single day. My parents, who, while they are growing older, still do so much to help and support us. And I'm thankful to have a good job - in this day and age I am more grateful than ever for that security. I have friends who care, good music to listen to, and books waiting to be read.
I am thankful that Stephen has improved so much - those of you who have known me for years can see his progress. Some days it seems achingly slow...but undoubtedly he has come a long way. There's a long, long way to go. I hope that a (pleasant?) break will energize those of us walking beside him as he struggles to take steps forward. He is a joy and a bundle of cuddly affection - everyone who spends time with him loves him completely. Merry Christmas, baby mine.
I am thankful that Kerry is growing into the finest of young men. Yes, the Pokemon/Nintendo/Wii obsession gets a bit old, but at heart he is still our golden child. I look at him and see the chubby cheeked, tow-headed toddler that stole my heart a long time ago - and I also see a tall, handsome "almost-tween" with braces, hair in his eyes, and the best sense of humor a ten year old ever had. Merry Christmas, Kerry. You make me proud every day.
I am thankful that David has had such a good year, overall. Watching him grow and struggle with important issues, I have seen how strong he is. Merry Christmas, David. There are great things ahead for you. Trust that.
And I'm thankful to all of you - the named AND the nameless who have read and cried and supported me through this blog. Thank you for letting me give "voice" to my joys and sorrows, to the pain that sometimes threatens to tear me apart, and to the triumphs that lift me above the fray. I hope the Christmas season brings you bright shining moments and calm, peaceful times with loved ones. May the New Year bring us closer to a cure, and to each other.
