Holiday Hangover

I tried really hard to think of another title for this blog as the word “hangover” is a little difficult to describe to a child.  My trusty Microsoft Word Thesaurus suggests the following – aftermath, leftover, relic, after-effect and legacy.

Aftermath is certainly the word that crossed my mind looking at the paper strewn living room on Christmas morning and realizing that it was only 7:30 am.  If only the kids would wake up with this much enthusiasm and energy on a school day, it would be so much easier to get ready in the morning.

Leftovers, literally, the turkey and ham that we have eaten in sandwiches and reheated for dinner.  The first night the children praised the food as the best meal they ever had.  Two short days later they could barely take a bite without trying to work their charm on mom and dad to convince us not to make them eat it.

Relic describes the lone decoration that I will find after all the boxes have been packed up and placed back in the garage.  Upon finding it I will wonder if it is worth getting the box out to put it away or will anyone really miss it if it doesn’t make it to see next year.  It's the metal ornament hanger you step on with bare feet in March wondering where it's been hiding all these months.  Relic is also the nostalgia I feel as I put away the years of handmade ornaments, remembering those pudgy cheeks and those tiny hands. 

After-effect is tucking my daughter in on Christmas night and her saying “I wish it was last night.”  Why is it that no matter what age we are, when we look forward to something so much, when it’s over we just wish we could live it all again?  Even when we are old enough to know better, no matter how hard we try to live in the moment and appreciate it as it happens, it all goes too fast.  We blink and it’s over.  We’re left with the after-effect, with the hangover if you will, that even though we are sad now, we would do it all again in a heartbeat.

Legacy is the memories that have been created.  The toys will break.  The clothes will be outgrown.  But the stories, and more importantly the love that was expressed and felt by all, will live forever.

If you are nursing a “Holiday Hangover”, you're not alone.  Maybe it’s time to start that memory box or for older children to write/journal about what was important and special to them this holiday.  The ultimate challenge is not to limit these experiences to just a couple times a year and to recognize the special experiences that happen every day.

Heart-FULLy yours, 

Kacey