Already, I'm pretty sure of my New Year's resolution. While it's necessary to shed some unnecessary pounds, etc., etc., there's something much more pressing -- if I'm to survive Hubby's clan without developing an ulcer: Seems I need to learn to be more Flexible.
You see, for as long as I can remember there's always been an agenda -- a Plan, if you will, for dealing with Holidays and Life Events. Then "just yesterday" (actually, 4 years ago) I came to be a part of a new, wonderful family. All was going well until I discovered -- not one of 'em has a Plan. Nor do they seem overly concerned! Egads ... this must change!
So, there was a Plan for celebrating Thanksgiving as a family last month. Then the Earth tipped on it's axis for a period, and Hubby and I wound up at my place of employment, enjoying a cheeseburger. (Well, that's what I happened to crave at the time; he had the prime rib.)
We're reasonably assured that tomorrow morning all will be in order at Daughter's house for a lovely Christmas brunch, enjoying four of our grandchildren.
Tonight? To channel Joan Rivers, "Can we talk?"
Sorry, I'm just stinkin' annoyed. In fact, I woke at 1:00 this morning, ready to engage in a spittin' contest with whichever unfortunate soul first happened to cross my path.
Normally we enjoy spending Christmas Eve with Hubby's son and his wife. Her close-knit family has dibs on them Christmas Day. Then, of late "junior" and his sister have been feuding like a couple of adolescents. (Can you say, Peace on Earth?)
Wary of my eyeballing the calendar, Hubby phoned "junior" some 7 days ago to confirm our date. Understandably he wanted to check with DIL, but promised to call right back.
Well, "right back" translated to 8:00 last night. By this time, I'd planned (there's that word again!) our attending candlelight church services, then I'd treat Hubby to a late dinner at our favorite Italian restaurant.
Pardon my jumping to conclusions, but I'm feeling like the high-school wallflower who only gets asked out after every other possibility has been exhausted. To Hubby, "I guess they didn't get a better offer?"
He regards me, "Well, they've been busy working."
(Excuse me, where you do think I go every morning at 5:30?)
For the sake of the Season (and our sanity), we've agreed to disagree and are meeting them at Claim Jumper tonight.
So, I'm going to go put David Foster's Christmas Album in the player, practice smiling ... and try to get a grasp on this Flexibility business. Might have some cheese to go with my "whine" while I'm at it.
Either that ... or spend some quality time daydreaming about running away to the North Pole next Christmas. Anyone want to come along?