Dear Journal:

Ah, December. The month for non-stop Christmas carols. My husband, Mike, says his favorite is “Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town” by Springsteen. Our daughter’s is “Jingle Bell Rock” because her big brother sang it at the school concert (last year), and our son says he doesn’t have one, but the song that came to mind is “Silver Bells,” a song I sang with community choir last year. The kids are remembering years when we could all be together. They also say the cat’s is “My Favorite Things” because of the “whiskers on kittens” line. As for me, I can’t think of a favorite at the moment, but the one stuck in my head all week begins, “So this is Christmas, and what have you done? Another year over, And a new one just begun.” It’s melancholy, yet hopeful, perfect for how I feel this year.

It’s the month for sending cards I haven’t even gotten yet, for making candied orange peels from scratch because store-bought tastes funny, and trying to ship homemade jam when the local stores are out of bubble wrap. It’s the month for stress, for making Christmas happen, making sure no one is disappointed. For making sure each kid has that special thing, but the price just went up 50% and the store won’t ship it, of course, even though “you’ve qualified for free shipping!” blazed across the website only moments before. It’s the month for trying to help a friend who’s feeling down, while not knowing how. I feel like a juggler with too many balls in the air.

But, a friend reminded me there’s a trick to juggling: know which balls are glass and which are plastic. Drop the ones you can pick up again later.

So, we went to the tree farm and found the perfect tree. We pulled dusty decorations out of the basement and put up all the twinkle lights. We’re getting homeschooling done, if only barely. We’re baking cookies for church and German stollen to ship to friends and family. I’m eating more than my share of every goodie and I’ve decided diets are verboten (until January). My sister and I decided we could skip the presents for adults, and give what we can to our favorite charities instead. Oh, and the jury duty I pulled this month was cancelled, Woo! I’m over here dropping balls all over the place, but I’m deciding which ones hit the floor. The ones that are precious are solid.

Song of the day: Happy Xmas (War is Over), John Lennon

Karen Harris Tully is a novelist living in Raymond with her husband and two small children. She writes sci-fi/fantasy for teens and adults and can be found at www.karenharristully.com.