I’m a wreck. I know, just like you, just like every other zombie I’ve seen out there the last few days.

What happened was pure Holiday Hubris. Apparently, I was due for a karmic slapdown.

I was soooo smug. I was so sure. This was gonna be an easy year. Ali was getting cash. I’d arranged it so I wasn’t exchanging with many people. I’d held firm about not doing the annual cookie orgy where I spend days making 18 different kinds and packing them up for dozens of people. Hell, I’m not even going up to NYC for the holiday.

I had it made.

…oh, wait. What’s this, Alison? An ELEVEN PAGE Christmas list? With photos? Of clothes from online merchants who won’t possibly be able to get them here on time?

What’s that you say? That you really really REALLY need at least some of this stuff? And that for the first time since you were little you’re really looking forward to opening boxes and surprises instead of gift-cards?

And you promised you’d bring cookies, too? And everyone’s gone on and on about how much they look forward to you bringing them in? Even the principal? A tradition. Right.

Of course I’ll edit your exam essays until 1am so you can get some rest for the actual tests! And bake. And help you get ready to leave for your father’s on Friday.

Oh, that’s right, you’re leaving in a few days! And there’s that boy over by your Dad, the one you claim to not really like like, but you still want your hair, eyebrows, and nails done, and uh…you want your eyelashes tinted?? And these things have to happen in how many separate salons?

So. I’ve got 4 days to do a season’s worth of shopping, wrapping, etc.

But there is an upside to tramping through store after store…I made a little secret purchase today. I bought brand new tee-shirt style sheets for the bed- I love those more than any exorbitant thread count- and some books. And Saturday I’m going to have my own little quiet recovery party.

Okay, I guess there are really two upsides. Crazy as this all is, at least the kiddo still needs her mom to do all this stuff. Won’t be many more Christmases where that’s the case. So I’ll just have to swallow hard, make the sleep up later, and get it all done. That’s what moms do, after all.

But once she’s gone, Santa can skip the eggnog, I’m diving right into the wine bottle.

Happy Holidays, y’all, hope you’ve found your own snuggly something to help you recover!