By Lori Welch Brown

Praise [insert name of your personal higher power here]. The election is finally behind us. I think it’s safe to say that no matter your political affiliation, there’s a collective feeling of exhaustion.

Trust me—this is not a good time to be exhausted. Starting off the holiday season in a deficit, is the opposite of good. And yet here we are. Every year I tell myself, “You will not feel overwhelmed. You will enjoy the holiday season and will feel energized, rested, and rejuvenated going into it so you can actually breathe and enjoy time with friends and family vs. stressing every minute and fussing over every detail and racing against deadlines—deadlines to shop, ship, mail, pack, wrap, trim, bake, shop, pluck, shave, wax, lose 20, dress, etc.”

Ladies—you know the drill.

And every year, on or about December 1, I’m already frazzled, staring down the barrel of a long list of to do’s delegated from me to me by me. I am my own worst enemy, but I’m also a Virgo and a workhorse. In other words, I live to get sh*t done. Even at my own peril. But I’m not such an old horse that I can’t learn some new tricks and/or actually take some of my own advice on occasion—and this is a particularly good occasion.

So how do you make some deposits into the account so that you’re not seeing red by your first sugar cookie? You’re probably not going to like this, but the answer starts with putting the sugar cookie back in the jar. Or for me, the leftover Halloween candy in the trash. The calendar really is not our friend. I mean—whose brain child was it to stick a candy-inspired holiday just before we kick off the holiday season? Talk about setting a person up to fail. I’m all about exercising and movement, but probably not helpful when I’m capping it off with a handful of mini-Kit Kats as my reward.

Note to self: Self-care doesn’t start with a sugar coma.

Okay—so I could make some dietary changes…Noted.

I may not be the best person to write this piece because I’m currently sitting at my chair the week before Thanksgiving—the season of gratitude—and boy, do I have a ‘tude. I’m tired, cranky, and feeling every bit the Grinch. I gripe and moan about CVS and Home Depot overlapping holidays and here I am putting Christmas before the turkey with my bah humbug mood.

“Why would I think of buying ‘so-and-so’ a Christmas gift when I don’t even know if they got the birthday gift I sent in July?” Don’t even get me started on ‘thank you’ notes. “No—I don’t want to host a holiday get together. It would require intense cleaning, cooking, and being FESTIVE.” “No, I don’t want to go to their annual pot luck. Where there is food, there is PEOPLE.”

I told you. The green reptilian looking guy has nothing on me.

This morning, however, the tiniest of cracks made its way through my hardened shell, and I felt a little ray of sunshine filter in. I heard my first holiday song when I mistakenly scanned over to 97.1 FM. Although my mind was busy plotting out whether or not it was best to go to Walgreens to pick up an Rx before I made some returns at Michael’s, it relaxed ever so slightly when it heard Mariah belting out, “Baby please come home.” My hands softened their grip on the wheel and automatically began to tap in sync with the music. My shoulders released off my ear lobes and relaxed down an inch or two.

It was a good start—a small deposit into the holiday account.

If only I could fit in a nap after taking care of my returns at Michael’s, my holiday account would seriously thank me, but alas, there wasn’t time. I had been running on fumes for days—weeks even—but Mariah gave me hope that there was time to reconcile my holiday account before I was totally bankrupt and depleted. While I didn’t have time for a nap, I did have time to sit on my porch while I made a few calls and answered some emails. Just breathing in the crisp, fresh air for a few minutes felt good. Really good. The sun was shining, the leaves were almost off the trees, but there was still just enough color left for me to appreciate Mother Nature’s stunning handiwork. Instead of feeling overwhelmed, I began to feel a bit refreshed.

The next thing I did was to take a look at my calendar and see what I could move off to allow some much needed downtime. My husband, XXL, is always telling me to slow down and stop overbooking. Ha! But that’s my superpower. Only it’s not. It may be for a while, but then I pay the price. Don’t tell him I said this, but I’m not getting any younger. I do require rest. And while I’m not even close to being the Olympic-level napper that he is (his super power), I have learned that I do enjoy actually taking a few minutes to sit during the day, put my feet up, and turn my brain off for a few. Let’s face it—we all need that. Even the kids.

Okay—eat better and build in some downtime. Got it.

Next stop, to do list. What are the things that I actually NEED to do. What can I push off or just say ‘no’ to. Do I really need to bake three desserts to take to the party on Saturday? One would probably be more than enough. Do I really need to paint that piece of furniture in December? Can’t it wait until January? Will anyone notice if we use the regular flatware at Christmas vs. my Mom’s which would require polishing? No. I just shaved at least 12 hours off my list which can be re-allocated to cleaning the outdoor furniture and organizing the hall closet. NO. That is the wrong answer. It can be re-allocated for a yoga class, a massage, and a few hours curled up with a good book. BINGO. We have a winner.

What can I say? I’ve always lived by the motto, “Work hard, play hard(er).”

Self-care doesn’t come easy to everyone—I’m betting especially to the Moms and probably a lot of the Dads too. Self-care can often be (wrongly) equated with selfishness, but it’s not. It’s ‘savingness’ or ‘saving us.’ It’s good for everyone.

Everyone benefits when there’s a slush fund in the account to spend generously—heck—maybe even frivolously. We all deserve a little gift this time of year—and what’s better than the gift you give yourself? Sure beats the leaf blower XXL tried to pass off as a present last year.

About the Author: Lori is a local writer, painter and pet lover who loves to share her experiences and expertise with our readers. She has been penning a column for the OTC for over 20 years. Please follow Lori online on Medium for more missives like this.