JCK has now entered via centrifugal force into the HOLIDAY ZONE. She is unprepared. She is behind. She is in ...trouble.
JCK wishes to be that woman. You know the one. The calm, collected, rational one. The one who purchases "just the right gift" for everyone on her list...throughout the year. And, doesn't leave everything until the last possible minute...
When the calendar turns to December, that woman, that accomplished woman, can fully enjoy spending time with her family, baking goodies and volunteering at her children's school for the gazillion creative activities that are planned. Activities that bring tears to JCK's bleary red eyes. Because they truly are that wonderful.
Alas, that woman does not reside at Casa de Motherscribe. No, no, no. There may be some bell ringing (STOP THAT, BOY!), and holiday cheer (GIRL, could you PLEASE stop singing THAT song over and OVER!) around the edges. But, at this point, poor JCK, is just one nut short of a fruitcake. And, that fruitcake keeps turning up. Like an old fishnet...
Is JCK foolish to yearn for that serenity? Where one can look like Martha Stewart with her calm (albeit maniacal) smile? Where everything is SIMPLE. EASY. AND...just so LOVELY. Except for that brief stint at jail time. JCK ain't gonna go there, SISTAH.
So, JCK is taking deep breaths. When she can. Reassuring herself that everything Will. Get. Done. That her children see magic everywhere, and it doesn't take much.
Sometimes JCK reminisces about her own early childhood at Christmastime. And it was pretty great. Her mother was always baking, and the house was full of decorative wonder. She's sure her mother probably was frazzled, but it isn't what she remembers. And this gives her hope. For five minutes. Because her mother is endowed with limitless energy, and sadly, ...JCK is not.
JCK is getting a greater understanding into her Sixties childhood by her recent addiction to Mad Men. Child rearing was different then. Less watchful. More freedom. More punishment...
At the end of Season Two, Betty closes up her 8 year old daughter in a coat closet for a few minutes, after pulling her by her ponytail from the bathroom, where she was caught trying out a cigarette. (JCK wishes to note that she isn't surprised that Betty's daughter is curious, since her parents emit so much smoke themselves...as to rival a 1970's Pinto Station Wagon. Added note: this was JCK's first car, so she should know.)
JCK believes that it was probably not uncommon in that earlier era for mothers to close up children in coat closets for short periods. (Note: Betty didn't leave her in the closet. She talked to her through the closet door, and then let her out.) JCK's husband believes that JCK is WRONG. JCK thinks it is not beyond imagining. JCK would like to think that she would NEVER put her children in a coat closet. Yet, there are those days...
JCK is also jealous of Betty's wardrobe. And youthful glow...
However, a far likelier scenario would be that JCK would go into the coat closet herself. To hide from her children. Little darlings most of the time. Sometimes not. Sometimes very not.
This morning, as JCK was racing around encouraging, and encouraging, and stridently encouraging her children to get dressed, solving her daughter's wardrobe crisis and her son's inability to focus on anything other than building LEGO, she talked to herself. Audibly.
JCK: BOY, your mommy is a bit nutty. HaHa! (JCK emitted a little nervous haha. Discomfited by the fact that she had uttered her "words of truth" aloud.)
JCK: Maybe not. Maybe I'm not so nutty.
BOY: Oh, yes, Mommy. YOU are nutty. You really CRACK me up, mom. You really do. I think about you, and I just crack up!
There you have it. Even her children know it. JCK is just one nut short of a fruitcake. She hopes she's in good company. Please tell her she is not alone...
*****************
Alas, that woman does not reside at Casa de Motherscribe. No, no, no. There may be some bell ringing (STOP THAT, BOY!), and holiday cheer (GIRL, could you PLEASE stop singing THAT song over and OVER!) around the edges. But, at this point, poor JCK, is just one nut short of a fruitcake. And, that fruitcake keeps turning up. Like an old fishnet...
Is JCK foolish to yearn for that serenity? Where one can look like Martha Stewart with her calm (albeit maniacal) smile? Where everything is SIMPLE. EASY. AND...just so LOVELY. Except for that brief stint at jail time. JCK ain't gonna go there, SISTAH.
So, JCK is taking deep breaths. When she can. Reassuring herself that everything Will. Get. Done. That her children see magic everywhere, and it doesn't take much.
Sometimes JCK reminisces about her own early childhood at Christmastime. And it was pretty great. Her mother was always baking, and the house was full of decorative wonder. She's sure her mother probably was frazzled, but it isn't what she remembers. And this gives her hope. For five minutes. Because her mother is endowed with limitless energy, and sadly, ...JCK is not.
JCK is getting a greater understanding into her Sixties childhood by her recent addiction to Mad Men. Child rearing was different then. Less watchful. More freedom. More punishment...
At the end of Season Two, Betty closes up her 8 year old daughter in a coat closet for a few minutes, after pulling her by her ponytail from the bathroom, where she was caught trying out a cigarette. (JCK wishes to note that she isn't surprised that Betty's daughter is curious, since her parents emit so much smoke themselves...as to rival a 1970's Pinto Station Wagon. Added note: this was JCK's first car, so she should know.)
JCK believes that it was probably not uncommon in that earlier era for mothers to close up children in coat closets for short periods. (Note: Betty didn't leave her in the closet. She talked to her through the closet door, and then let her out.) JCK's husband believes that JCK is WRONG. JCK thinks it is not beyond imagining. JCK would like to think that she would NEVER put her children in a coat closet. Yet, there are those days...
JCK is also jealous of Betty's wardrobe. And youthful glow...
However, a far likelier scenario would be that JCK would go into the coat closet herself. To hide from her children. Little darlings most of the time. Sometimes not. Sometimes very not.
This morning, as JCK was racing around encouraging, and encouraging, and stridently encouraging her children to get dressed, solving her daughter's wardrobe crisis and her son's inability to focus on anything other than building LEGO, she talked to herself. Audibly.
JCK: BOY, your mommy is a bit nutty. HaHa! (JCK emitted a little nervous haha. Discomfited by the fact that she had uttered her "words of truth" aloud.)
JCK: Maybe not. Maybe I'm not so nutty.
BOY: Oh, yes, Mommy. YOU are nutty. You really CRACK me up, mom. You really do. I think about you, and I just crack up!
There you have it. Even her children know it. JCK is just one nut short of a fruitcake. She hopes she's in good company. Please tell her she is not alone...
*****************
Photo of The Fruitcake Lady courtesy of: thedailyblender.blogspot.com
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'Tis that time of the year!
ReplyDeleteOH honey! I hear you. And my kids? They positively know I am one nutty woman, AND I hope that it'll take the edge off them when they are overwhelmed someday, remembering it's ok to just celebrate making it through the day sometimes.
ReplyDeleteLove you, dear woman. Fruitcake and all.
Sounds like BOY is a little nut cracker!
ReplyDeleteAs for Betty, I'm jealous of how great she looks in riding crops.
If they ever produce Mad Men: The Next Generation, we are so gonna see poor Sally in therapy. After doing time for shooting her mother. And it won't be for lack of sparkly green cookies and tinsel, either.
ReplyDeleteAs for that behind-the-eight-ball feeling: Do. Not. Sweat. It. I have that feeling every single solitary year, and every single solitary year it comes out just fine. Even the year I had 12 hours of varicose vein surgery on December 4 and was not only immobilized for the entirety of Advent, but was so looped on Lortab I awoke on Christmas morning panicking that I'd missed the Easter egg hunt.
'Tis the season to be nutty. Revel in it, darlin!
If it's any consolation, I've gone whole fruitcake. I'm not just dabbling. I'm feeing certifiable.
ReplyDeleteWalking thru Costco, trying to remember everything I'm supposed to buy, and yes, talking aloud to myself, without noticing. Some kind, older gentleman walked by with his cart and remarked: "She's so beautiful, and yet she talks to herself". *sigh* It happens to us all.
ReplyDeleteYou're not alone!
ReplyDelete