There was nothing simple about our journey to get here.
I’m not speaking from a grandiose, philosophical sense. I mean, literally, our day of travel to get from east coast to west. Fifteen hours in total. Two flights. A two hour layover. Six hours of flight time. An indescribable five hour delay in Denver, of which, we were sitting in a small plane, on the tarmac, all seven us - lap child included. For real. There is not a bitmoji in the world that can capture this. You can only imagine, I promise.
So what do we do? We kill it, that’s what. I am not in anyway kidding, y’all. My kids are amazing and I do not give them enough credit.
The holidays are a stressful time of year. There are a lot of ‘to-dos’ and ‘should’s’ and things that keep us busy. These things take our time, our attention and our best self away from what this time of year is really supposed to be about. This long ass trip across the country was a slap in the face and needed reminder of what is important:
My people, your people. It’s not the perfect turkey or just right cranberry sauce (although Nick owned it). It’s not the table decor or the music or the perfect family photo. When we are so caught up in making everything ‘just so,’ we forget that the perfection is in the imperfection.
I have spent many years making sure that my stockings were hung just right. That the place setting were unique. The appetizers were amazing and the cocktails were delicious. I spent my holidays hustling, hosting and doing instead of enjoying.
Being stuck on an airplane with 5 kids reminded me just how little I get to control - I have to control. So this year, I’m drinking too much coffee and eating too much cake. I’m saying YES to my kids crazy list of games and fun. I’m living in sweat pants and taking naps. I’m having intentional conversation, around home cooked meals, at the kitchen table. I’m unplugging and connecting with the people in my life that deserve, but rarely get, the best part of me.
As we are already getting ready to pack up and head back across the county, I’m exhausted. Exhausted from chasing my two year old up and down the mountain. Exhausted from falling asleep on CA time, but waking up on NC time. Exhausted from a life well lived; which is becoming the only acceptable form of exhaustion I will tolerate.
I didn’t realize just how busy and tired I am. How plugged in, yet unplugged I have been. This year, I am thankful for the simple things. The ones that fill my heart and my days, but too often get pushed out by the mess of busy. It has taken me thirty six years, five children and a hell of a trip across the country to get it, but here I am. It is never too late.