Making Compromises

I can tell she is almost 3 weeks old. I recognize the way sleep deprivation is catching me in its unmerciful grip. I feel a bit on edge, a bit out of sorts, easily rattled, and really, really sleepy. The best solution: Hang in there for a year or two, and lower my expectations, a lot. Humor helps too.

It's nearly Christmas. I think I will let Pick Up Sticks prepare our Christmas Eve dinner, and that is a huge compromise for me. Geoff thinks it's a great idea. Is that a "guy" thing? I don't usually like to make sexist generalizations, but he seems completely at ease with not sending Christmas greeting cards, or his mom's gift being late to get to the post office, and he's happy having take-out Chinese food for our big family dinner, but I feel like a Martha dropout, a failure, Christmas AWOL.

We have had some horribly un-PC discussions about our ever-gray tree. It is so parched and brittle we fear it may spontaneously ignite. So, we made a short list of options which includes: Buy a second tree. Very shameful idea to kill two trees in one year, also costly and time consuming. Other idea is to find out whether flocking a tree provides fire retardant benefits. Our gray tree might be protected and festively snow white. Tacky? Perhaps.

We need gift wrap, and I still aspire to mail Christmas cards, but Papaya is falling asleep, and I think I should join her.