Tuesday, November 16, 2010
That is definitely me. I don't know how many people know this about me, but the ugly truth is that, on occasion, I am a Holiday Hater. The Christmas tree, endless vacuuming, the inevitable destruction of wrapping materials, constant cleaning, the horrid endless stream of Christmas songs that should never have been written... you name it, it gets under my skin. Thanksgiving is not my favorite either just because Turkey isn't my favorite thing, and the smell of green bean casserole makes me nauseous. My siblings and I have been trying for forever to get my parents to sell the house and buy a rambler with no bedrooms and lots of living space for our huge family gatherings, but mom and dad are kind of attached. So every year we mush ninety people in, which is great because I love my family and I love having them all together. But dang, I am claustrophobic and completely OCD. I am a controlling person sometimes- we'll just be honest. Especially when I am on a roll of getting things done, the cleaning gene kicks in and I have to organize stuff. There were lots of nights in High School when I would be up at two inthe morning finishing a paper or projects for Schmid and finally finish only to realize that the homework streak, while extremely productive, has had the effect of a tornado on my bedroom and sometimes the hall and kitchen as well. This is where, at two in the morning I clean my whole room, do laundry,t ake out my trash, vacuum. One night I couldn't sleep because my blinds were dirty. No joke, three in the morning I got out of bed to vacuum my blinds and ended up cleaning out the bathroom cabinets too. (when you have a whole floor to yourself, you can clean in the middle of the night and no one cares. It's great.) I think it is safe to say I am a little crazy, right? Let me tell you, Thanksgiving is not the most comfortable environment for someone who has panic attacks when they lose control. Usually in situations when everything is out of place because there are a lot of people are around, I retreat to my bedroom and wait for it to be over so I can clean it all up. But the Holidays strip away this refuge as well, because there are so many people that my room ends up being the storage for coats, purses, carseats, diaper bags, hidden Christmas gifts, and all the stuff people leave at my house. It's the kind of thing that wouldn't bother someone normal. Alas, I am not normal and these things make my blood pressure skyrocket. The thing is that its not people themselves that I am annoyed with, its just that all the stuff and the chaos that comes with the people that really unhinges me. So the goal this year is to breathe deep and play with the kids as opposed to retreating to a closet in the fetal position. I don't want to be a Scrooge anymore, and this year will represent a solid effort to be jolly. Katie has already convinced me to listen to Christmas music and Sarah has converted me to mashed potatoes, so maybe this year I will be able to rehabilitate my holiday dread and enjoy all of it. Without the blood pressure cuff.