I am staring at the twinkling lights hanging from my ceiling. Iridescent stars reflect rainbows as they shimmy in the warmth of the heater. More stars drape the doors and windows. I love the effect and wonder how long they’ll stay up before dust makes them sag. The lights decorating people’s houses and fences are my favorite thing about the Winter Holidays. Even one strand of large, colorful bulbs with a few of them burned out looks beautiful.
This past Sunday I took my daughter Christmas shopping. She proudly used her own money, earned from shredding documents for me and our neighbors. She also created her own list this year. In the past I would help her remember all the people she wanted to buy something for, but this year she made her own decisions about who gets a gift. I wrapped those gifts for her last night and then sent some in the mail today.
If I focus on how much Rhia loves Christmas, I can combat the weariness I feel. I look at the picture I took of her when she talked to Santa three weeks ago and he gave her a soft, pink unicorn. She is glowing with happiness! I listen to her talk about seeing her grandmother and cousins every time she points to the date on her calendar when we fly to Louisiana. Just thinking about the trip makes me tired, but it’s worth it because Rhia is so happy.
Every parent I know, with and without a disabled child, is tired. The holiday season makes us all a little manic. We work to squeeze every drop of “holiday magic” into everything; the shopping, cooking, decorating, traveling, and socializing. We spend too much and do too much and smile too much. And then we eat too much, drink too much and fight with our relatives too much. All of this must accomplished with a smile in less than four weeks.
Add a disability to the mix and tired is increased by a factor of ten.
I just want to climb into bed, pull my blankets over my head, and sleep until December 30th. I suspect half of America feels the same way.
Rhia needs my help, so I manage to get it all done. And when I focus on her smile and the fun she’s having, I feel the tired release a little. I see more of the beauty and less of the chaos. Taking a deep breath, I address our holiday cards tonight.
But I refuse to listen to Christmas songs while doing it.