I spent Thanksgiving week in Miami at my mom’s house with my brother, his wife and 3 kids, my husband, my 2 kids and stepdaughter and that’s just scratching the surface. I know they have written movies about dysfunctional familes getting together around the holidays. But if they had been at my house last week, they would have had some new material. Suffice it to say, I did an improvisational dance routine to “We are the Champions”, twice. My brother and I both got flu shots, then proceeded to hit each other as hard as possible in the arms where we got the shots. We even did this in public, outside the deli that I worked in as a college student. My husband and I spent the night under the dining room table. And I managed to find fault with everyone, including my husband and my mother, two people who are usually not my targets. On Friday, I said that I was leaving the next morning because I was so mad. But then couldn’t because it is one of only two times a year that the cousins are together. And they really do love each other.

I was so happy to be back in my own house last night. Taking a shower in my own bathroom. Reveling in the quiet of the night. Last week seems like a blur to me. And I am slowly fading out the bad experiences and focusing on the good.

In another month or so, I’ll be looking forward to next year. Funny how that works.