love Christmas, every part. Cookies and food and seasonal music, yes, please. I make menus and gift lists, and I obsess about all the details. The kids and I count down to Santa’s visit, and the Elf on the Shelf (his name is Bubbles) is in full effect every night.
But not this year.
This year my holiday spirits seemed low. I’ve struggled through all of the things that I usually enjoy, and I couldn't figure out why my normally tinsel-laden holiday cheer was missing. It could be because my usual habit of getting up early and staying up late seems to intensify in my effort to get everything done. Maybe the unseasonably cold fall and early winter weather here in Chicago moved the timeline up on my seasonal affective disorder. Or perhaps my shoes are simply too tight.
Whatever the reason, as the tale goes, I am feeling every bit the Grinch. When I started to write this piece, I had nothing joyous to say. And that made me feel even worse.
I