There is a whiteboard that hangs on the wall next to our kitchen, lined with boxes that make up the calendar of our lives. Each month, I fill out my work schedule, V’s childcare schedule, and any notable events like weddings or parties or social obligations.
I had to do the December schedule today, and I just couldn’t believe it. In just over three short weeks, it’ll be Christmas. In a month, it’ll be 2019.
This time of year really ramps up for me. It’s when I work the most hours and the latest at night, and when work is the most taxing. It’s when social things that come up take precedence over much needed downtime. When I try to squeeze it all in versus slowing it all down.
Today, V woke up happy. So happy.
But the she had a massive meltdown about the batteries in her Daniel Tiger book dying, and the fifteen minutes of tumultuousness that we experienced almost caused me to cancel on a friend date, that, after consideration, I realized that I didn’t want to miss. So V and I gathered ourselves up, got in the car, and drove to meet our friends, where we then had the best morning.
Right now, in the beginning of the month, it was okay to push through and see our friends. Later on though, I might have to cancel everything and just sit at home, and maybe let V watch a bunch of Sesame Street episodes in a row while I read a book to get back to my baseline. It happened last December, and probably the one before that.
I never seem to be able to tell when I’m nearing my edge; I only know when I’ve gone past it. It would be so great to have some kind of meter we could check when our social obligations and careers have taxed us too much.
Situation critical, it could say. You need to recharge now. Shall I clear your calendar?
Despite saying all of this, I really look forward to the upcoming December. I love this time of year. My parents instilled in me a love of tradition and togetherness and this season!
Happy December to you, too.