My stop-in-your-tracks moment du jour came not when I realized that Christmas is eight days away (and we are still the only house on the street that doesn't have lights up yet), but earlier in the day as I was rocking Penelope [back] to sleep after a teething-pain pre-emptive wake-up from her nap. I was thinking about how little she is and remembering how little my sister used to be (now in college). Then after a typical female random trail of scattered thoughts, I calculated in my head what year Penny will graduate from high school. Rocking, rocking, calculating. I had to check my math. I had to count on my fingers. Penelope Jane Griffin, Class of 2031.
My thoughts lately have unfortunately been wandering over to negative territory from time to time as I find myself wondering: "what if I died?" Like seriously, what would happen if I died? Car accident, early onset of fatal disease. Penny wouldn't even remember me. This concept of time and how much of it we have and how precious it all is gets me choked up around the holidays. It's a horrible thing to think about, but I guess as my love for my family continues to grow, so does my fear of all the good things slipping away. Hormones don't help. Stress doesn't help.
I wish I had an advent post for you, or photographs of all the cool Christmas baking and craft projects I have been doing that I found on Pinterest (I haven't). But truthfully, December has been a pretty regular month for us, aside from the photography business (this is like tax season for an accountant) and the full social calendar. I'm hopeful that it will start to feel more like Christmas when I'm caught up on photo editing and when we put our tree up. I guess it's ok not to be Pollyanna all the time, right? Thank you, God, for my wonderful husband.
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