Christmas 2.0: Stephanie on Celebrating Winter

Normally, I would be frantically rushing around town tying up loose gift-giving ends in preparation for the arduous trek to Pocasmello only to be disrupted intermittently by debilitating panic attacks and short pauses to throw my sharpest stilettos at Ferris’ head. Flying home toPocasmello has a way of evoking a unique mixture of stress, anticipation, excitement, and absolute terror. Ferris would be taking extra shifts at the hospital to avoid the violent stiletto throwing and Eva would be waking up every hour on the hour through the night in response to her mother’s hysteria.

Instead, we are home.

Sure, we shoveled 20+ inches of snow in the wee hours Monday morning, but that’s a wholehellovalot better than being stranded in the Cincinnati airport.

Yes, the war of the Little School germs wages on. We lost the most recent battle, this time in my snorsals. Man. Down. Thank heaven for my loyal readers who suggested a Neti Pot. Forget what Oprah says about how using the Neti Pot is so friggin’ ‘easy’ and ‘calming’. That shit is violent, perhaps because I have such ridiculously small nostrils. The result is phenom…the ability to breathe unimpeded is entirely under-rated, which makes all that gagging and choking on warm, salty snot water almost worth it.

Certainly, we will miss our Pocasmelan nut ball families. A few nights ago, I iChatted with my sister who is in Idaho with my entire family. There are moments, however few, when I feel a strong and distinct pull to move back west. This was one of those moments.

And then Ferris hit me over the head with a frozen snow shovel.

In a few days, we will all wake up in our toasty warm beds…just the three of us. We’ll spend the morning leisurely folding the traditions we grew up with into the new family we’re creating. So…in a small but meaningful way…our families will be here with us.

This piece first appeared as a comment on The Festival of Lights: Celebrating Winter, and as Christmas 2.0 on The Letter’s Edge.