And it feels weird.
It's strange to read about others who are trying to figure out how to get it all done. Remember when I was her? The frenzy! The sweatshop in the dining room! The last minute gift substitutions. Now I feel like I'm on the outside looking in. There's something cold about being out here; something warm and fuzzy about being in there. And because I'm a little crazy, in my mind's eye, I look like the little matchstick girl from one of my children's books.
But I don't miss the stress even a little.
I hope my gift recipients can forgive me.