Christmas 2024 Is Over!

Well, folks, Christmas has come and gone, and if I had a dollar for every time someone said, “It’s the most wonderful time of the year,” I’d have enough to pay for all the gifts I just spent months preparing. Spoiler alert: it’s not always so wonderful when you’re the one behind the curtain making the holiday magic happen. Oh no, the elves didn’t do this. It was all me. Wrapping, cooking, cleaning, decorating, parenting… drinking. Let’s just say my holiday spirit was bottled and labeled “Vodka.”

Let’s start with the gift-wrapping extravaganza. Do you know how many presents three daughters require? A lot. I basically ran a one-woman sweatshop, cutting wrapping paper, fighting with tape that refused to cooperate, and trying to remember which gift was for which kid. At one point, I seriously considered slapping bows directly onto Amazon boxes and calling it rustic. But no, I painstakingly wrapped every gift so my girls could have the joy of shredding the paper like caffeinated raccoons at dawn. You’re welcome, children.

Then there was the cooking. Oh, the cooking. Picture me in the kitchen, channeling some sort of frazzled culinary goddess, whipping up a feast that could rival the Food Network’s holiday specials. Ham? Done. Mashed potatoes? Fluffed to perfection. Desserts? Plural, obviously. By the time I was done, the kitchen looked like a war zone, but hey, at least the food was delicious. I mean, I didn’t taste much of it because I was too busy refilling my glass, but my kids’ happy faces confirmed it was edible.

Let’s not forget the cleaning. My house doesn’t magically become a Christmas wonderland. That took hours of sweeping, dusting, and hiding clutter in closets no one’s allowed to open until February. By the time Christmas Eve rolled around, I was running on fumes, fueled by holiday music and the promise of some peace after the chaos. Spoiler alert: peace doesn’t exist when you have kids on Christmas morning.

But oh, the payoff. Watching my girls light up as they tore into their gifts was worth every ounce of effort, sweat, and vodka. My 16-year-old was thrilled with her haul of makeup and fashion finds, my 14-year-old was equally happy with her gifts (probably already mentally ranking them on some secret teenager scale), and my 6-year-old was ecstatic just to be included in the chaos. Their smiles made the insanity worth it. Mostly.

By the end of the day, I collapsed onto the couch, surrounded by piles of wrapping paper and the lingering smell of my epic feast. Exhausted but satisfied, I realized that, as much work as it was, Christmas really is special when you’re doing it for the people you love. But let’s be real: I’m not touching another roll of wrapping paper for at least 11 months.

To everyone who also survived the chaos: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays. I hope your day was filled with joy, love, and maybe just a little bit of alcohol. Cheers to us for making it through another year of holiday madness.

Xoxo