I hate the mornings where I write 92 blogs and can't publish any of them.
I don't like this season.
I am a Grinch. I have been for years. I am cynical.
I try hard to play it right for the kids, cause no one wants their kids to have Grinch mama as their life long holiday memory.
The Christmas junk is out. The carols play.
But the day to day is wearing and grating.
The stuff I thought wouldn't happen, would maybe only be a worst case scenario, was just my pessimistic self at it's worst, has already happened. Day one. First night.
I want to rail and lecture on communication, on fear, on choices, on a million things. I want to lock some of us in a room and just say no one leaves until it's over and settled and whatever. I want to stomp my foot and take over and control and fix.
I'm going to let it go. I'm going to be quiet. I'm going to stay out of it.
I will shoot for "peace on earth, good will toward men" if I have to bite my own tongue off. I will make the choice to be an adult and have self control. I will put others first.
I let it go. All of it.