STRESS AND THE HOLIDAYS

Here we go again, the holidays. A time when I become that shy, insecure teenager all over again. I am what is called a Type A personality also I am Analytical and not Creative. I’m not complaining because that is who I am.

My sister is creative and my daughter is creative, I, however, need instructions, directions and recipes. I cannot make a bow, I cannot make a centerpiece, and I cannot whip up a meal with whatever is in my cupboards. I do make a great Christmas ham though (my family has even tried to get me to market it and compete with the spiral sliced hams).

My sister leaves me in awe of her. She has a Christmas tree in her living room that will take your breath away it is so elegant. She creates vignettes (a vignette is a short impressionistic scene that focuses on one setting or object) throughout her whole house (even the bathrooms). She also has a Christmas tree in her basement that is decorated whimsically for children. On the other hand I have a wreath with a candle or two in the middle as a centerpiece and figures of Three Wise Men standing on a shelf somewhere.

This Thanksgiving while setting the table my head had ramblings in there “What would Judy do? How would Judy do it?” Just so you know, my sister was Martha Stewart before Martha was Martha Stewart. I love her dearly and just wish I could be more like her.

Anyway, back to the stress. Why do we set ourselves up to disappoint ourselves? I know my limitations but I guess when it comes to a holiday I strive to do what I know I cannot do. (Isn’t this ironic, I just blogged about Shyness & Self-Confidence and not being frightened and diving in and trying new things and here I am...) Well, I guess this is just life and that's what makes everyone their own unique person.

So, if you get a present from me and it has a stick-on bow, I hope you know that I still care. I just don’t want to stress myself out trying to make a bow that will end up looking like a three-year-old made it.

Want to hear something funny? I got a gift from my sister one year and saved the beautiful bow she made for my present. Some time later I gave her a gift and was able to reuse that same bow. My sister started raving about the beautiful bow and what a great job I did making it. I can’t lie, so I confessed that it was a bow she had given me previously and that I reused it.  So, we had a good laugh. I guess instead of a regifter, I’m a “re-bower.”

I think I’ll take a class on bow-making then hopefully next year I’ll feel a little less stressed. And so the journey begins...