By Staff
I'm tired. It's a happy tired and I've loved every moment of my holidays, but I'm seriously tired.
My holiday preparations were probably not so different from yours, but for some reason I don't ever remember feeling this tired on the few days following Christmas.
It was a typical holiday at my house with only a few incidental extras thrown in.
The office party for the folks who work here at The Brewton Standard was held at my house this year.
I've never claimed to be much of a housekeeper, but I didn't want my co-workers to see how I actually live so I cleaned up the house.
No small task, but I got it done and I must admit things looked pretty spiffy on the night of the party.
My husband's side of the family, as is the tradition, came to our house on Christmas Eve.
I didn't have to do a lot of cooking or food preparation for the meal. Most of the food was already prepared when I picked it up around town.
I did, however, have to re-spiff the house. That called for moving all of the newspapers, pillows, shoes and assorted items from the living room floor and back to their respective plaes.
The dining room table, as is tradition, was filled with bags and assorted items that were left there “just for a minute” and had to be cleared away as well.
My in-laws and my little family certainly enjoyed our evening together. A quick exchange of gifts and a full table of food was what made our holiday together enjoyable.
Now, on to Christmas Day.
My very patient son waited until about 2 a.m. to inform me that it was officially Christmas Day. He also wanted to know if it was official enough to go ahead and open gifts.
When I explained that he would have to wait at least until 6 a.m., he sighed and returned to his room to wait and, apparently, watch the clock.
At 6:05 a.m., my son again came to my bedside and asked if it was time for the tearing of the paper. After hearing a very large moan escape from my mouth, he became a very sweet child.
I was thankful for his consideration and took full advantage of the extra hour my son thoughtfully gave me for sleep.
After rising at 7:01 a.m. Christmas Day, my little family gathered around the Christmas tree and began to tear into packages that held wonderful surprises as well as welcome necessary items.
After the majority of the gifts were opened, I retreated to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. As tired as I was, we had a couple of slices of bacon, a few pieces of toast and a scrambled egg. Plenty of breakfast, especially since I had a very large lunch planned for later in the day.
The lunch preparation began at about 9 a.m. for me. I put the ham on to bake and began busily peeling, chopping, grinding, mixing and stirring in pots and bowls in the kitchen in preparation for the huge holiday meal planned for 1 p.m.
It all came off without a hitch if you don't mind some slightly underdone dressing.
Following the meal, the family retired to the living room and I began transferring food into smaller containers either to be put away or to be carried away - it really didn't matter to me.
Then the cleaning began. Scraping, stacking, loading, moving, wiping and sweeping took a good hour after the meal was complete. Then, time to clean up the mess from the 7 a.m. wrapping paper-tearing festival in my living room.
The next half hour was spent looking for missing parts, finding instruction manuals, putting in batteries, opening boxes and finding the screwdriver over and over again.
Finally, time to relax. Nope, I was mistaken. Time to drive to see other family members and help out in their kitchen with cooking, cleaning and what-not.
Then, my son reminded me, I had promised to take him to see a movie. I sighed, heavily, and walked to the van to start the trip to the theatre.
I paid $8.50 to sit in a chair in a theatre to watch a movie my son thought would be great.
It might have been. That was the best $8.50 nap I've ever had.
I think I'll take him to see another movie this afternoon. I'm really tired.
Lisa Tindell is news editor at The Brewton Standard.
She can be reached by email at lisa.tindell@brewtonstandard.com.