For all the years I’ve been a mother I’ve felt that the holidays have got the better of me. In fact, it was during my last family session (that included a 2 year old and a 5-month-old) that it dawned on me that I’m (I feel like it’s only safe to say what I’m about to say in a wee whisper) out of the, um, danger zone (side note / hashtag: not for long). Meaning, shit has been hard for the past few years. And by past I mean 5 years and by hard I mean two babies relatively back to back followed by a thirteen level spinal fusion that pretty much erased nearly an entire year of my existence. I remember the one year I never got around to baking Christmas cookies feeling like some kind of colossal defeat. Well, the other day, we made those damn cookies and it wasn’t even the center-focus of the day.

Perhaps it was the two days I had all to myself while Willy took the boys out early to Arizona the week of Thanksgiving that allowed me to get a good jump on things; the boys returned home to stockings already hung, a small tree in their room already decorated, and scented candles filling the rooms with an aroma only the holidays can bring.

We’ve baked cookies (and even have plans to bake more so that Santa can have ‘fresh’ cookies), I’ve ordered all the gifts that I needed to allow enough time to receive, I’ve addressed the holiday cards and even thought ahead to pick up some Christmas stamps the last time I was at the post office (I take no responsibility for the fact they were all out), and I’ve even managed to pull the handful of children’s Christmas books from their bookshelf to have on hand to actually, well, read (what a concept, I know). I have some eucalyptus that I bought at the local florists in a vase, for goodness sakes. Who am I?

There’s no doubt I’ll be bit in the ass at some point. There’s still plenty that needs to be done and plenty that I know I’m forgetting all together. But the fact anything is done or remembered at all has me feeling a little jollier this season; it’s a nice breath of fresher air before things start spinning out of control once again (side note / hashtag: baby on the way).

A reminder that the boys are getting older (and easier-ish) and that while there is plenty that makes you want to turn back the clock, there is also plenty in the here-and-now to celebrate.