On the Third Day of Christmas, I wrote this little post...

Actually, I wrote this last Sunday... but never got around to posting it, what with the last minute Christmas preparations and all. So, I'll just put it out here today, with an update at the end. Merry Christmas, everyone!

What I Learned This Advent

1) Don't procrastinate. You never know if your wide-open, nothing-going-on-but-Christmas-prep "Tomorrow" is going to stay that way. All of last week's "Tomorrows" certainly weren't what I'd expected, with Mom in the hospital from Sunday to Thursday. Now, I really wish I'd done a little more cookie baking and shopping and card-writing back in November. Oh, wait, that's when Dad was in the hospital. Never mind.

2) Be grateful. Always and in all things. There's always something to be grateful for, like having more time to spend with your folks (even if it's while they're stuck in the hospital). And of course, I'm very grateful that Dad is recovering from his triple-bypass, and Mom is home and OK without any surgery at all. I'm also grateful that my family can always find something to laugh about, even during stressful times.

3) I have the world's greatest brothers. They are so fantastic that I'm really very sorry that you don't have them for brothers. Your brothers may be nice, but trust me, they are not as nice as mine. I mean, would your brothers stay overnight with Dad, and not just expect their sister to do it? Would your brothers take turns in giving Dad rides to the dentist and to the hospital? Would your brothers blow away the myth that it's always the daughters who have all the responsibility of care for aging parents? Would they? I didn't think so.

4) I also have good kids. Not perfect, but pretty darn good. (I can brag a bit more about my brothers because they aren't my responsibility; I don't dare be so boastful about my own kids. For one thing, there are too many people with evidence to contradict me.) Anyway, it occurred to me on my fourth day of spending hours away from home at the hospital that I wasn't the least bit worried about my kids causing mayhem or generally getting into trouble at home. I'd come home each day to find that breakfasts and lunches had been made, and cleaned up after, and the child with a cold had been cared for and attended to, and some school work and piano practicing had been done. What more could I ask? I'll have to remember that the next time they're driving me insane with something or other.

5) St. Nick is the patron saint of harried Moms just before Christmas. I prayed for his intercession this season, because if I was going to get everything done, it would have to be with some help from above. So far, so good. I think we'll make it, with presents and stockings and Christmas dinner and all. I even had some help from a wonderful phone person at Back to Basics Toys... can you say "two-day shipping at the regular ground shipping rate?" God bless her! Most important, we had our traditional pre-Christmas confession: We make a trek as a family to Gesu Parish for confession, and then afterwards go out for dinner. That's the most important thing we do to get ready for Christmas.

6) Never say things can't be worse. Trust me, they can. I actually learned this one a few years back, but was reminded again this week. At about the same time Mom was getting checked into the hospital, a vicious cold virus began infiltrating my house. Our 15-yo daughter was the first to succumb. Tom was next, and then 8-yo daughter fell victim. The symptoms are splitting headache, sore throat, congestion, and a killer cough. Duration is about one week, if the 15-yo is typical. Yesterday, our 10-yo son came down with it. So far, our 17-yo daughter and I are the only ones standing. But wait, there's more: Tom twisted his back yesterday, so now whenever he coughs, he gets a knife stab in the back. See? Things can always get worse.

UPDATE:

As if to prove the point above, things have indeed gotten worse. Dad ended up back in the hospital on Christmas Day and is still there, though he's doing OK now. And, to top it off, I fell victim to the raging cold virus. My fashion statement now is a piece of red flannel peeking out above my neckline, covering up the thick layer of Vicks underneath. At least the red is festive, right?

Enjoy the Christmas season, my dear friends. I wish you all the blessings of health and happiness, and, failing that, then all the blessings of learning valuable life lessons!