Merry belated Christmas! I hope your holiday was as fabulous as mine but perhaps with fewer sweets. (I ate way too many.)
So earlier this week, I took Wednesday as a vacation day, thinking that after all the fun of the holidays, I would sleep in, read, relax, maybe nap, walk the dogs and have a nice dinner ready by the time Pete came home. When will I learn?
I slept ’til 8:30 which sort of counts, and I did walk the dogs, but that’s where my daydreaming ended. I only read about 3 pages and spent the first half of my day vacuuming, putting away dishes, unpacking and doing 5 loads of laundry. One plus is that I got to see my friend, Ester, who has been in Kenya doing mission work. That’s always fun, and she gave me an awesome pair of earrings. 🙂
But by the time I made a pit stop at the grocery store and walked in the door, I was beat and could only muster the energy to make a frozen pizza and salad. Our time visiting family in MN was more relaxing than my vacation day at home.
At one point during the day, I even found myself walking through the living room to the kitchen, muttering under my breath: “I never have time to myself; it’s always something.”
*GASP* I covered my mouth and my eyes grew wide. “Oh no, it’s happening! I’m becoming my mother!”
Of course it’s not true that I never have alone time, but it often feels like it because I fill my alone time with things that should or need to be done – balancing the checkbook, paying bills, cleaning, washing dishes, washing more dishes and exercising (OK, sometimes fun). But as soon as I said it, I wanted to crawl in a hole and hide. I just knew Mom could hear me from 3 ½ hours away.
“See?” she would say. “I told you it would happen.” Oh geez.
I’ve caught myself saying things she says on other occasions, too. Like when disciplining Zoey: “I said no. Stop begging.” Or when talking to a disgruntled friend: “Why are you so ornery?” Or the time I put a nice shirt into the dryer and messed up the delicate fringes: “I can’t have anything nice.”
What’s next? Hiding chocolate covered peanuts in the bathroom for that moment I can finally relax? Announcing that we have canned salmon in the cabinets so I don’t have to cook? Buying generic cereal? (Á la Freaky Fruit, the knockoff of Fruit Loops?)
“You just wait,” Mom used to tell me. “One day, you’ll catch yourself saying or doing something like me and you’ll think, *gasp* I’m just like my mother!”