It is one week before Christmas. And I'm pretty much at peace. Did I get everything done that I wanted to? Of course not. Did I get the things done that meant the most to me? For the most part, yes.
When I was a young mother, I was frantic. I had to make Christmas presents. (I'm still not sure why, as no one liked what I made anyway, but there you have it.) I had to bake cookies with my children. I had to decorate my house with crafts I had made myself. (I look back in abject horror at some of my crafting attempts.) The list continued.
Are those bad things? No. But wisdom and a whole lot of years under my belt (or in my bra) have given me a different perspective.
Joy for today: not being frantic.