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The Most Wonderful Time of the Year…Really?

Two weeks before Christmas is not the time to have the flu. I guess it is better than having it on Christmas -- silver-lining!
Emily and Jim Trotter during the supposedly most wonderful time of the year.

Two weeks before Christmas is not the time to have the flu.  I guess it is better than having it on Christmas, silver lining.  While Jim and I have gotten to enjoy each other’s company and binge watch Hallmark movies and bask in the glow of the study Christmas tree that hosts the little hands of Trotter boys of the past…the rest of the house has hit a festive downward spiral with piles of stuff apparently only mom can deal with.  We’ve got 3, yes THREE, bags of dirty clothes home from ABAC, things that need to be returned to Amazon, company Christmas party cups that did not get the opportunity to be used, teacher gifts (happy new year I guess), baseball bags/hats/belts/sweats/glove, empty Gatorade bottles (why), dead leaves from the dogs and also the stuffing of every toy that they have ever had…should I go on?  I think you get the picture.  This list does not include the pile of gifts to wrap and the ones that I was determined to get to UPS to get to Texas.  Ugh. 

I find myself being a little grumpy.  Yes I know that Jesus is the reason for the season.  Yes I know that I am allowing the secular to cloud the divine.  I love the manger and the miracle.  The shepherds getting the angelic word.  The magi making the trek.  The humble earthly parents of a heavenly babe. 

Yet I find myself wishing I was Santa. 

Oh to be glorified for being fat and jolly.  I am those things already, even rosy from the glow of rosacea and hormones.  Aside from the milk and cookies left out for you to nibble on, Santa gets all the praise for all the things that happen this time of year.  The magic, wonder, wishes, delight, and gifts all are credited to him.  His persona is definitely responsible for most of these things, but I am starting to realize that he probably does very little.  His cast of characters most likely do all the work and he strolls in, hops on the sleigh and gets the big grand finale.  That is the part I want.  I want my own cast of characters to do all the things and then I show up to smile and wave.  One night of hard work as opposed to months and months of preparation.  He is the face of the Brand. 

I am the face of the two brands I currently run.  But I don’t have the entourage.  No, my gaggle of boys do not count.  I have been telling Jim for a year or so that I needed a staff.  He says no.  Apparently I am not as big of a deal as I think I am. 

Emily Trotter smiling while wearing fun plaid skirt

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