It happens every single year. I get so excited about the thought of the holidays - the family time, the kids, the gifts for them, the traveling (wait...did I say I like to travel back and forth from Chicago 4 times in 2 days?!?!). Then, when the time finally arrives, I have panic attacks. Did I get everything (within reason) from the kids Christmas lists? Did I use the the right wrapping paper for all the Santa gifts? Did I make enough food? What was I in charge of bringing to the family get together again? Oh, yes, then there are work deadlines. Can I get it all done and feel good about how I left the office before I leave for a week? Can I close my office door for the night and just breathe a sigh of relief or will I have something hanging over my head for the week that I'm out? Then there are kid worries. Can I get a decent meal in their bodies to off set the insane amount of candy that they inhaled at their school parties? Can I still get them in bed at their set bedtime without losing my ever-loving-mind? Will they all sleep past 8 a.m.? Will they ask for candy for breakfast?
Ahhhh...yes, the holidays.