Everything has been frantic.
There are the early mornings and how all day every day Target is a mad house, with a constant GOGOGOGOGO demand from superiors overriding every simple action I do.
There are birthday parties and homework and school registrations and sick days and doctor appoints for the kids, with just keeping track of it all becoming a major accomplishment in of itself.
There is the lead up to Christmas, with presents to buy and wrap and give.
There are cookies to bake and fudge to make and candy canes to eat, with my personal motivation to do any of it a half an inch off the floor which only leads to being sad about my lack of fudge.
There are the houses to see and the finances to wrangle, with hopes and dreams being balanced between time and money in a soul-crushing situation.
There are board meetings to attend and fundraisers to do and emails to send and thank yous to write, with a grand scheme of which I believe in but the daily stuff is hard to care about and even harder to not excuse with such poor excuses of 'I'm a single parent with a full time job'.
There are trips to plan and travel to book and suitcases to pack, with parts I don't want to do making the doing of any of it all the harder.
There is snow to drive in and boots to find, with picture perfect beauty to look at but causing all the more delays and stress.
There is sleep, with which I am not getting nearly enough of.
There is blogging, with which I long to do more.
There is life.
And in the month of December, my plate of life is heaped to a daunting height.