I'm mourning Christmas

Feeling a little down today. For the first time since my parents died 9 years ago, I really and truly enjoyed the Holiday season. This year my love of Christmas returned in full throttle and I just couldn't get enough carols, cookies, decorations, greenery, presents, etc. Now I'm feeling so down that it's gone - a vague sense that I just didn't squeeze enough out of it. I feel that way about Summer too - maybe I just set my standards too high.

Right now, two kids are in Burnsville with their Dad shopping for his present of new snow boots. One child is at a friends. I have the house to myself for the first time in weeks. We've had 6 of my in-laws here since the 24th - they left at 7am this morning.

I'm exhausted. First I came down with a nasty cold on the 23rd and I've had it all Holiday. Then I was "ON" as hostess for seven straight days. Ever put on 3 squares a day for 11 people? Let me tell you it's like cooking at a girl scout camp. And my in-laws are not the type to eat pizza delivery. I had home-cooking at every turn. Must say I did rather well. Christmas Eve we had Mussels Diavola with linguine, homemade marinara, shrimp scampi, and scallops with artichokes. Christmas Day we had waffles with whipped cream, strawberries, scrambled eggs, bacon, and bagels. Later that day we had baked ziti and crab legs.

The rest of the week included an 18lb turkey, more pasta, fresh salads, oven roasted potatoes, chocolate cake, loads of Christmas cookies, pots of espresso, cheesecake, turkey pesto paninis, etc all made from scratch. Now before you think I'm lying I must add that my mother-in-law is a miracle-worker in the kitchen and helped me a great deal.

Perhaps I'm just feeling the let-down after a whirlwind couple of weeks. Or my head is too stuffed-up to feel happy happy. Or maybe I realize there are several tons of laundry waiting for me. Maybe it's that the sun has disappeared. Or maybe it was being told by my teenager that I was a lying-stealing-crazy-cruel mother since SHE misplaced the birthday bucks her Grandma gave her, therefore of course I or some other family member STOLE it. We found it later. Don't argue with crazy teens, because they are just absolutely STARK RAVING MAD.

So today I'm feeling "mushade" as my Italian in-laws would say, or "mush" for short. My family of origin would call it a pity party. My Grandfather would say "well, you know where you can find sympathy in the dictionary? Right between SHIT and SYPHILLIS". A wonderful source of compassion is my family. I need some Sudafed.