‘Tis the season for anticipation and hustle and bustle. The big day is drawing near, and soon we will all stop preparing and slow down long enough to experience. Not only do I count down the days until we are surrounded by loved ones, and can celebrate the true meaning of Christmas, but — I’ll be honest here – I’m counting down the days until I can just stop. When I can lounge in my jammies, watch my family enjoying time together, sip my cocoa and Bailey’s, and just be. We Real Women take on Christmas like we are Indiana Jones outrunning boulders and finding crystal treasures, proving to the world that “we can do it all and make it perfect”. No one asks us to do it, we just put it on ourselves as if our goal is to make the bell ring, announcing to the world that we’ve gotten our angel wings.
After all of the Christmases I’ve experienced thus far on this earth, I have determined that there is one simple truth: no matter how much we prepare, how hard we hustle and bustle, there will always be something for which we did not plan. In other words, we have to expect the unexpected. The unexpected could be something minor, like an extra visitor for dinner, or a backordered gift. Or it could be huge, like an ice storm that shuts down a city, or the illness or loss of a loved one. Like it or not, there will be something outside of our control, and no quantity of planning and to do lists will change it. And we just have to learn to be ok with that, deal best we can with whatever comes our way, and move on. Easy to say. Hard to do.
Last weekend we were preparing to have some friends over for a holiday gathering, and my husband and I had gone out to dinner the night before and stopped at the grocery store for the last few things we needed. We came home, I opened the freezer door in the kitchen, and whoosh…. Water spilled out and everything was dripping and defrosting. The fridge side was getting warm too. Our fridge/freezer had decided, without warning, that after 16 years it was done. Toast. Dead. No worky. A black splotch on the floor behind it signaled a burned-out compressor. Always up for a romantic date night, my husband and I spent the next hour or two trying to rescue anything that hadn’t defrosted too much, throwing out what was wasted, and find some place to put everything. Luckily, we have a small spare fridge unit in our basement, and a chest freezer in the garage. However, they were already full due to the impending party and holiday treats. A quick panic call to the neighbors and we were able to squeeze some things in at their house, and otherwise relied on winter temperatures to store items in our garage and outside on our patio for the night. I was already tired from a busy weekend, but felt like I was coping pretty well. Until the table where I was stacking food to be stored gave out, and everything crashed to the floor. There just may have been some very foul, non-festive language that emanated from my mouth, followed by tears.
In the morning our first call to Home Depot gave us the bad news that they couldn’t deliver a new one for two weeks. At that point we decided to put a new appliance search on hold and focus on preparing for our get -together… which of course was a bit more challenging when wondering if a necessary ingredient was out in the snow bank, in the garage, or in the basement. We had a great time with our friends, tried to send lots of food home with them due to our storage issues, and offered a free dead fridge as a door prize.
The good news is, as so often happens during this magical time of year, we were granted a Christmas miracle, and we found an appliance company who could get one to us in four days. Were we expecting to go further into debt right now to buy an expensive appliance? No. Was going without it a bit of a hassle this week? Sure. Did we ever think a refrigerator would be a meaningful gift to each other? No. But expect the unexpected. And now it is here, and gosh darn it, it is beautiful. (Well, besides the minor dent, for which a replacement door will be arriving in a few days). All holiday visitors will be expected to pause and ooh and aahhh and bask in its basic white radiance.
There’s still plenty of time for more unexpected events. Perhaps we’ll be lucky, and this was it for us this year, and we will now have smooth sailing.
Funny thing, it really doesn’t matter. Because Christmas will arrive no matter what is going on in our lives, and no matter how much we Real Women want to control the outcome. We need to take a lesson from the Grinch. “He hadn’t stopped Christmas from coming… Somehow or other, it came, just the same. “
So let’s take the last rush of preparation down a notch, expect the unexpected, and most of all, enjoy it. Worst case scenario, we will gain great stories to tell while gathered around the fireplace, eating fattening cookies and admiring our fuzzy Christmas socks.
Merry Christmas, dear readers. I so very much appreciate you, one and all.
The December issue of Women’s Health features a flawlessly beautiful Kaley Cuoco on the cover and in the celebrity article. They chose to do a feature on her because she works out a lot, and, well, she’s great.
The turkey has been digested, the pumpkins put away, and virtually overnight neighborhood yards are coming to life with a veritable cornucopia of Christmas magic. That is, if your idea of magic is multi-colored light shows, mechanical deer and inflatable snowmen.

Yet reality proves again and again that our Thanksgivings will bear a stronger resemblance to scenes out of Married with Children or Arrested Development. Rather than being disappointed that we aren’t all perfect, or worry about who is going to say what, I think we should just embrace our family and friend craziness. Get an assortment of relations together, strap on the feedbag, pour some alcohol, and let those sparks fly. I saw a great tweet today where someone said their plan was to settle in to a crowded table, ask “So what did you all think of the election?” then happily spend the rest of the meal alone in another room. No matter the wackiness, we all need to remember it is one day. For a matter of hours, let’s all just get along. Then call our BFF’s over the weekend to share stories.
Yikes. Turmoil. Lots of it, and we are all carrying it around with us. Not only of course is there turmoil at a national and international level, but there’s plenty of turmoil in our personal lives. It doesn’t matter what it is related to, politics, health, finances, work stress, relationships – there’s enough to kick us into tilt mode and overwhelm us. Just like a small child, when we feel overwhelmed we no longer can think straight and we get lost in our worry, fear, anger, sadness or anxiety. We start making wrong choices. In our toddler years, those choices could be throwing wicked public tantrums, or throwing food, or crying until we vomit. I’ve been seeing remarkably similar actions in adults lately, with rioting, crying, meanness, and vomiting via social media posts.
sed the road as I came by. I stopped (because as we know, where there’s one, there’s more), and she stopped too. She turned her head to look at me as if to say “Hi. What’sup?” Beautiful.
I get it. We are all busy, busy, busy. Just like Frosty’s
If chicken soup is good for the soul, then time with BFF’s is the ultimate balm for our sanity. When close female friends spend time together, it is one part relaxation, two parts therapy, a dash of education, and a heaping dose of entertainment. All mixed up in a big ol’ bowl of unconditional love and acceptance.
Smarter smart phones. Robots with artificial intelligence. Jet packs. Micro chip implants. The waves of the future, perhaps, and all very impressive. But if the technological geniuses and scientists out there really wanted to impress us real women, and help us lead easier lives, they’d put their energy and funding into things we could really use. Develop inventions that really would save us time and stress. Sure, it’s great that we now have the capability to do 3D printing. But here are a few things we really could use:
We had a conversation with my son this evening about him finding an extracurricular activity. He’s a sophomore in high school this year, and currently between “things.” As in, he doesn’t have a “something” to do right now. And he needs one. Even if he doesn’t think he does.
Somewhere along the way, I became part of a minority group. Not by ethnicity, sex, skin color, faith or even hair color. Nope, I’m talking about those of us in Generation X. Let’s face it, fellow X’ers…. We have become part of some kind of lost group – appropriately also called the Sandwich Generation. We are the ones who came after that giant Baby Boomer generation, and before the strong and energetic Millennials.