way to nine client deadlines in the next eight work days, a nasty and
annoying personal dispute with the IRS, and Aaron down with some funky
stomach thing. It's enough to turn all the cheer and rejuvenation of
the holidays into anxiety and ire.
That's some of what's boiling underneath my skin, but it was tempered
a bit by Jada's antics this evening when I arrived home. You see, she
cares not about all the burdens I carry on my shoulders; she just
wants me to carry her on my shoulders. She wants me to trace her foot
with paper and pencil, sit next to her as she watches Pooh, and read
all her favorite books in a particular order and in a particular way.
And she'll pout and scream and giggle and poke until she gets her way.
Tonight, of course, I cave, my stress melting away, if only
temporarily, in a sea of laughter and tickles.
A top-notch event planner once said that when something is going awry
at your event, imagine yourself a year out, and ask yourself if
whatever the problem is will be something you'll still be stressed
about or able to laugh off. A year from now, I hope these clients are
long satisfied, the IRS long dealt with, and Aaron long past his
stomach bug. But it would really stink if a year from now, I looked
back on times Jada wanted to spend time with me, and I was too
stressed to enjoy them.
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