BrianandLibby.com

I was not looking forward to a return to reality today as we left my mom’s to the tune of my neices begging us to stay for three more weeks (they were very specific about the time period). We agreed that we would return and that we both (along with Posh) would attend their birthday party at the “bannastics place” (which I later learned is in the same building as the “gymnastics place”) and they agreed to let us go home. 

I’m sure I don’t need to remind you how much I dread coming home AFTER the holidays, but when I opened the door, the tree still looked festive and the house still smelled like cinnamon. I went on to discover the greatest temporary cure for my seasonal depression: All the stuff I got for Christmas! 

I am unpacking all of our Christmas goodies and I feel like a kid again. I thought that as you got older you got less and less presents and were supposed to be mature and act like you were ok with it, a canned response I had been perfecting in recent years. Not that Santa wasn’t good to me in recent years, but this year I was spoiled and bombarded with much more than I expected. Brian totally spoiled me (as he always does), as did his family and mine. I kind of feel like I got too much, but I’m setting such foolish thoughts aside. In Pakistan it is rude to not accept a gift, no matter how elaborate or unnecessary. I think it a tribute to my culture to embrace my new treasures.
So how did I fight the feeling? I am sipping out of my new starbucks mug, wearing my new pjs and slippers, along with my new diamond necklace (an unlikely, nonetheless marvelous ensemble). I am running up and down the stairs putting away lots of new clothes and shoes and homey stuff. Posh is sitting quietly chewing her new toy (a gift for both of us).

And I am topping it all off by arranging all of my jewelry (a collection which has grown from zero to too much for my top dresser drawer to handle in the last 12 months) into a new jewelry box I bought myself for Christmas thanks to a great sale at Kohl’s and the fact that it exactly matches (from the color of the “wood” to the silver knobs on the front) the dresser in my bedroom. It has like 15 compartments and all of my jewelry is now organized by type, style, occasion and color. Aaaaah…the gift of organization! And I’m watching Full House reruns while completing these tasks. Does it get any better? Perhaps this year I will be found victorious in the fight against post-holiday depression.