Happy Squishgiving

I took this photo after Squish got all ready this morning. What you can't see are the painstakingly chosen pink skirt, pink tights, and pink shirt that all went on under the big pink hoodie--but I think what you can see is enough.

Squish was ready to go out on the town.

This is, of course, about five minutes before she spilled milk all on herself, and cried.

And I felt that cry-- she'd been so proud. It was such a good outfit, and I'd fixed her hair so it spilled down her back and she was wearing matching wristlets and the lovely scarf (Thanks Rhae!) and earrings--and the purse? Do you see the matching purse? Yeah. She looked her best and most adorable Squishiness today.

It sucked to have her plans change.

We rinsed off her clothes and threw them in the dryer and she found another sweatshirt and, for the most part she got her groove back, but I do try to remember moments like the big cry, too.  Because we expect so much out of the holidays-- we expect to look good and be happy and have everything go well--and sometimes, it just doesn't.

So, for those of you who had the perfect holiday--I'm so glad. We need those days of family warmth and good food, those days of tradition and joy. They do make our lives so much more pleasant--so very fulfilling, if we are fortunate enough to have them.

But if you got into a fight with a family member or burnt the turkey or ended up alone in your apartment with a tin of beans--remember that not everybody gets the perfect holiday. You're not alone if you cried, or if you couldn't join the five-thousand people in the kitchen or if you're revolted by turkey. You're not a freak if this was a shitty day for you-- but that doesn't mean you won't get a quiet happy day of your own, with people who love you and some joy.

It just doesn't have to be this day, or this moment.

Have faith--it will come.