The Holidays

Blech. Such is how I feel about the holidays this year. As we have previously discussed, several times, I am not a super social or celebratory person to begin with. Normally, I am happy to do the obligatory smiling and nodding and just hide myself in the corner while everyone mingles and shares and enough time has passed that I can leave without being rude (if I couldn’t get out of attending in the first place—I use the term ‘happy’ loosely). This year, however, I am freaking out about the potential for sadness in the holiday season. Our friend/Hubby’s boss invited us over for Thanksgiving, one of my favorite holidays because it revolves around food, sloth, a woodstove, and watching television (football and/or movies). My immediate reaction was absolutely not. I would enjoy a turkey dinner and Patriots game of 2-4 people maximum (plus dogs, dogs are okay) this year, thank you very much. It was a very real and strong reaction. I know my heart rate went up a bunch just thinking about people. No offense to the boss and his family (they do pay the bills around here—and they’re good peeps to boot) but I’m really not interested in meeting random extended family and having to fake happiness in front of said strangers. Especially if I am missing Wyatt and need to have a meltdown, which, by the way, come on fast. Meltdowns aside, Hubby and his brother/sister-in-law convinced me it would be okay, I could do it, we could fritter most of the day away skiing, and it would be fun. I caved and our invitation was accepted.

Just to make things interesting, Boss subsequently blurted out that his wife is pregnant. Because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut when they started “trying” (eww—don’t need to know that), I was expecting this news sometime around now anyway. But that expectation did not make hearing their happiness any easier. After my big [genuine-I swear] smile and envious heart palpitation, panic set in. Tears shortly followed. “I can’t…go…to…their house…and..sniff…sniff…listen to them..ack..sniff...talk about babies!” I wailed. If Hubby’s mom scheduled a knee replacement the instant she found out about Wyatt, you better believe these guys will at least be giddy and talking about their new grandchild-to-be. I had to go to work (of course) ten minutes after this announcement, but when I got back I spent a solid hour in bed staring at baby photos and getting up the courage to tell Hubby that I had to back out. He obviously offered this before I had to mention it because he’s the bomb, but it was still hard because Boss’s wife was so super excited to cook for a large crowd and I don’t want them to feel bad about sharing their happy news. They’re our friends for god’s sake. And life goes on, as we know. I can’t be babied about babies my whole life, dammit. But I can cry a whole lot in the safety of my own comforter.

Is it too early for ‘Bah humbug’?? Damn you, Holiday Season. Always ruining stuff.