By Robin Kaye
Crazy Holidays is more like it. My third book, Breakfast in Bed will be out by New Year’s Day, and my blog tour is heating up--check my website calendar for all the stops and giveaways on my Virtual Blog Tour. My next book, As Good as He Gets is due in a few days and isn’t quite finished yet. Twinkle Toes, my ballerina daughter, is dancing in George Balanchine’s The Nutcracker for the next two weeks, so her normal dance schedule has made the jump from crazy to certifiable. My son is down with pneumonia and has had to go back and forth to the doctors three times this week alone. My mother-in-law is visiting next week to see Twinkle Toes’ performance. My husband is working to finish the drywall in the living room (one of the four rooms currently under construction) so we can put up our tree. And I have yet to buy one Christmas/Hanukkah present.
I’ve either become very Zen about the holiday stress, or I’ve completely gone off the deep end and just haven’t noticed. In either case, I’m working under the assumption that if I just keep going I’ll eventually get through it. If I’ve learned anything throughout my life, it’s that stopping or giving up is the only sure way to fail. No matter how crazy life has gotten in the past, my family and I have always survived the insanity. I doubt this Holiday Season will be any different.
My plan is simple. Deadlines first, Christmas presents second, and I’m resting the whole Mother-in-law visit (cooking and cleaning included) squarely on my husband’s shoulders. I warned him I’d be living in Deadline Hell and it was sooo not a good time, but he agreed to it anyway so he can live with the consequences. I’ll see a couple of my daughter’s performances and continue to drive her back and forth to dance. When I’m not driving, I’ll be in my office or at Starbucks working until I finish my blog tour and type those lovely words, The End.
I’ve already made peace with the fact that my kids will most likely make out like bandits and get IOUs for Christmas. For those of you not in the know, IOUs are the mother of all Christmas presents. The bearer ends up receiving much nicer presents than they normally would due to parental guilt, not to mention a gift that will last a lifetime—something really juicy to talk to their shrink about and torture said parent with for the rest of her natural life. And knowing my children, they’ll use it to the nth degree.
Now that you’ve heard my game plan, please tell me I’m not the only one out there wondering how I’ll survive the Holiday Season. How do you deal with Holiday Stress?