Is it really almost Christmas?

 Every year about this time I get all moody (I guess that how to describe it).  I feel overwhelmed.  Sad.  Depressed.  Pressured (by my own self and expectations).  And I usually write and talk about it.  Ad nauseum.   

And here we go again!  Plus, I have covid!  I am feeling so much better than I did just yesterday.  My doctor prescribed Paxlovid and it seems to be working.  Of course I am getting warned by others who have had covid and used this drug- that there can be re-bound covid.  Well, shit!

I was confident that *I* would never,ever get covid.  Yet here I am.  Thank goodness we have all been vaccinated in this family.   I have heard sad stories about people who have lost loved ones to covid- either because they caught it before there were vaccines, or they didn't believe in the vaccine.

And there's the frustration we are having with Amazon.com, and logging into accounts that are requiring two steps of varification.   Bank accounts.  Credit cards.  I found information on my bank's website on how to take care of  the log in problems.  It involves  going to a page that shows all of the places I have accounts and passowrds that may have been compromised.  So I tried to print the instructions out and my printer got funky on me.

First world problems I guess.  Not terribly important in the scheme of things- I hope.

We have a small tree this year because we are going away.  Nick and I are taking the train to Seattle.  Austin and Darcy are flying there (not together).  We will see four of our five kids.  I feel really bad and sad about it.  But Chance insists he will be alright.  He has work,and he will take care of his cat and Austin's cat and Buddy our dog.  It will all be just fine.

Last year we had all of the kids and partners here.  It was wonderful and also overwhelming.  I don't think I have the energy reserves I used to have.  I am older.  I am way out of shape and overweight.  I have a variety of health issues.   And I suffer from depression.  Gee, I sound like an all around fun gal.  (except I never use the word "gal")

I love all of my kids so intensly that I cannot stand it.  No that doesn't sound right.  But it's true.  They are my light,my joy, my worry, my energy and my lack of energy.  I want them all to be happy and fulfilled.  

Having a house full of noisy kids was often very hard work.   I think that they all appreciate that I put a lot into mothering.  But I wonder if they mostly think of the physical stuff- like baking cookies and playing with playdough?   They cannot possibly know the depth of my pain when they are sad or hurting. And knowing that sometimes I was the one that hurt them, or the joy in thier happiness. It is not something that can ever be explained or understood by anyone who has not had a child.  

Okay, I need to put my covid diseased body to bed.