I don't know if I'm getting old or what, but the holidays nearly wiped me out this year.
And I suffered a holiday hangover.
You know, the kind that keeps your head in a constant state of "fog," makes you ill-tempered and easily snapable. The kind that drags your shoulders down the minute you step foot from the warmth of your bed (not that you were sleeping anyway because like everything else around here that you enjoy, sleep has become scarce) and pulls on them all day until you find yourself, at the end, ready to collapse into nothing. You times that by 4 or 5 days and you've got yourself one doozy of a holiday hangover - and no, there is no magic cure.
I remember when my children were babies. Little bundles of firing neurons and synopses. They were jumping over mental and physical hurdles with every little breath they took, even though it looked to us like they were just cranky over a bad batch of baby applesauce or the fact that somebody washed their favorite soft toy - ridding it of the special drool that caked it's surface.
Had we only known.
They would emerge from whatever particular phase they were in, as if reborn, new little souls with a bread basket full of new knowledge and tricks to show us. Look mom, I can roll over now! Look dad, I can crawl backwards! All this before falling into another phase, only to do it all over again.
Time after time.
That's how I feel after the holidays - except without the new shiny tricks to show anyone. But that isn't to say that they aren't there, somewhere inside. I just need to find them. This is the perfect time of year for that. A time to reflect, to evaluate, to make plans for the future...yadda yadda yadda.
Look mom, I can do my own laundry!
I think we put so much upon ourselves during the holidays that it's only natural that the time following be one of solace. Of rebirth. Of solitude and reaching...to find what is necessary to get through another year of living.
Look dad, I can drive a car!
I don't like resolutions for the New Year. I'm much better at real life stuff. If I say I'm going to be somewhere, I will. If I promise to do something, I will. If I say I'm going to try, I will. And it's a year long endeavor - not just something I do in January. But I like the idea of resolutions, year round. Little reminders to do better, to be better, to live better.
Look mom, I can change a diaper and fix my own plumbing!
And just maybe I emerge, as my infant children did when they learned something new, from December with a new set of skills. A new lease on life. A new whatever to put the spring back in my step that seemed to be washed away with that last load of recycled gift wrap that I wheeled out to the curb the other night.
And maybe that little inspiration is right under my nose, for it sure feels that way when a certain little girl comes bouncing in my bedroom in the morning, pokes me on the forehead and says, "I love you Mommy!"
Oh yes, it does come in many forms.