I’m glad Christmas is behind us. I don’t understand why the holidays are so stressful for me, but they are. Are they like that for everyone? Or anyone?

Christmas Eve was sweet. Pea and her daddy went out front and left some rolled oats and glitter for the reindeer so that they could find our house and steer Santa in for a safe landing. The next morning, we got Pea and Coco out of bed at about 7 to open stockings and the presents to the girls from us and from my family. It was all quiet and lovely. My husband gave me the “Ralph Lauren” book, which I cannot put down. It weighs a ton and is a walk down Memory Lane for any girl who grew up reading Vogue like it was the Bible.

And then…

My sister-in-law and her family were 45 minutes late to our home for brunch. Which would not have been a big deal save for the fact that she walked in with a very fresh drink from Starbuck’s. Because, you know, when I’m running very late for a date at someone’s home, I always stop for coffee. But I think I did a decent job of hiding my irritation. Seriously. I’m a gracious hostess, if nothing else.

There were a lot of presents, too many, really, and at some point, Pea kind of just overheated and had to walk away from it all. To say her grandmother went a little nuts with the gift giving was to put it mildly. But I will say this: my mother-in-law put a lot of effort into her gifts for the girls. Pea received these wonderful interactive books called “Touch the Art: Feed Matisse’s Fish” and “Touch the Art: Brush Mona Lisa’s Hair” and art supplies and Spanish-language flash-cards. Most of them went into Pea’s closet, to be pulled out at a later date. She isn’t missing them. And although you may think that makes me seem like a scrooge, really, it’s just too overwhelming for my daughter to have that much new stuff to play with – it’s just… so much. This way, she will have little treats in the coming weeks and months. And honestly? What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. And believe me, she doesn’t know. And I don’t know how many more years I have where I can pull this stunt so I’m doing it while I still can.

My father-in-law was in a mood and just wanted to go home and watch golf on TV. So he spent a good portion of the afternoon pacing around our driveway and snapping at my mother-in-law to get her purse so they could get going.

My mother-in-law tore through all of her gifts, including ours, with little notice, so she could get to the piece de resistance. Which was yet another quilted Chanel handbag from her husband. Because really, you can never have enough ugly black quilted Chanel handbags.

My sister-in-law’s pile of gifts can be seen in this picture:

Well, that pink poodle rocking horse is her daughter’s. And the game chair in the huge black box is her son’s. Which they left behind at our house because it wouldn’t fit into their car. Humph. Anyway, I might add here that my sister-in-law, who is pushing 40, still gives her mother a list of Things I Want for Christmas. This is not a joke. A Christmas Wish List. You know what my wish list consisted of? Give stuff to my kids. That makes me happy. I am just at that point in life where if I want something, I’m going to go out and buy it. So you can either give me something that comes from your heart or you can skip it. Please, do not ask me what I want. But whatever. To each her own. I guess.

I’m just glad it’s over. And I have one whole year to recuperate. Family. I can’t live with ‘em. But I have to. Hey, at least my food was a hit.