I’m feeling a little bit like my Supermom powers are on the fritz. And the sad thing is that it happens every year around this time, like clockwork. Yet I’m always surprised.
It goes a little something like this: Thanksgiving arrives, and with it, my busiest month of the year. I kick it all off with a 16-hour day of work on Black Friday and then basically work every minute I possibly can for the next three to four weeks. In the meantime, the children have upcoming school project deadlines, band concerts, and fundraiser orders to distribute, there are holiday plans to make, someone falls seriously ill, and (almost always) someone has a big meltdown from the stress. (Hey, it’s not always me.) (Okay, it’s usually me.)
But every year, I think it’s going to be different. Every year I’m sure we’ve got a handle on everything and it’s going to be fine. This year, in fact, Thanksgiving Break was as close to idyllic as I think it’s ever gotten; we hung out at home, relaxed, and unwound. Everyone was feeling refreshed. And maybe that’s why this week has hit us like a ton of bricks.
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