Getting the Stocking Monkey Off My Back


Nablopomo (National Blog Posting Month) is coinciding with a long standing unfinished project that I need to put to rest and since both are causing me stress, I've decided to combine them into one giant stressball of anxiety. With the help of progress and Ativan, I hope to get beyond this and come out of November ready to enjoy Christmas.

The project is my never ending advent stockings that I began maybe four years ago. Maybe five. I can't remember. I was off to a quick start, completing up to five stockings until I decided to make the design look a little nicer, which took more time and creative energy, and I stalled out at 15. My plan was that instead of using a pathetic little 99 cent advent calender with sub-par chocolate, I'd make this a family oriented countdown. The holidays go by fast enough and this was one way I could slow things down a bit, mostly by forcing some family time on my family. I'd put a little note in each stocking, saying things like, "picnic in the family room for dinner!" but once I hit the last complete stocking (day 15), I'd keep reusing it until we reached Dec. 24. People visiting would look at the stockings and ask why we didn't go beyond Dec. 15, seeming to wonder if Dec. 16 was the day we celebrated Christmas. I finally added a day 23 and 24 (and I've lost 23 somehow), thinking maybe filling in the middle would be easier. I'm lazy, okay? Cutting out felt isn't as fun as one may imagine.

After years of putting up the half complete advent stockings, it's either time to finish or pack them away forever, but because I put them on my 40×40 list, I've got to finish them. And I want to finish them, as much as when it's late at night and I'm re-threading my bobbin, I regret the decision to walk away from the 99 cent chocolate calenders. What was I thinking?

In the next 30 days, I'm going to finish the stockings. A little baby step each day – or maybe a big leap one day to account for a day or two off. Scratch that. If I take a day off, the train will become derailed. It's every day.

Really, what was I thinking when I eschewed the cheap advent calendars sold near store check out lanes? There's no shame in a little milk chocolate, especially when I'm not the one eating it.

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