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Emily Morrison Emily Morrison
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Give me a break...'

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Give me a break...' Give me a break...'

'Give me a break. Break me off a piece of that kit-kat bar.' I'm not one to complain much, often, a lot. I don't usually gripe about life's little letdowns or spend too much time bending people's ears on all the ways my existence falls short (my nightly phone calls to my mother don't count). Yeah, I sound off about my power going out, kids getting sick, loathing of winter, lack of Christmas spirit, anonymity, soccer motherhood, domestic squabbles, cat who sleeps with her derriere in my face, missed doctor's appointments, less than stellar moments of motherdom, busy schedule, hatred of Barbie, messy house, teaching woes and physical imperfections, but I'm generally a positive type of gal. Can't you tell? 

My vacation felt like one catastrophe after another. Our house remained off the grid for seven days. I took two of my kids to the E.R. on two separate occasions (one of which was on Christmas day). The driveway was almost impassable and the relatives who were driving some distance to see us had to drive clear up to the big city of Bangor before they could make it to the big city of Bucksport (falling ice closed the bridge). We've lost every birch in a 10-mile radius of our home, and to cap things off, I'm going through a life change that has really taken the wind out of my sails. Happy Holidays.

But life isn't all 'woe is me.' On the upside, I signed up for a marathon, a 26.2-mile test of my strength and sanity, with my big sister. After four months of grueling training runs, we should have fun. I've run every day of vacation and taken out my frustrations on the pavement. I've made myself drink more water than wine, and I've laid off my 'donut a day keeps the doctor away' morning eating habits. Just yogurt and granola or toast and jam for me yippeeeee. I usually fall into an exhausted slumber by 9:30 every night, and I'm OK with my lameness. So those are all positives.

Just to add one more yule log to the yule tide, we did have a great time with family. Both our parents had power, showers and wonderfully warm houses. There was time to be cozy, watch Christmas specials, go ice skating, play board games and exchange gifts. Everyone seemed pleased with what they received, and I only had to talk to my son once about appreciating people's presents before slinging them on the floor and saying, 'I already have that. What else did you get me?' Ironically, this is the same kid who, when asked by my sister what his favorite thing about Christmas was, said, 'That baby Jesus was born.' Go figure.

What I keep learning over and over again is the same lesson I had to relearn when R.Patz and K.Stew broke up. Life's not a fairytale, wah wah wah. This doesn't mean that I shouldn't be thankful for all the moments of perfection in the middle of the free fall. It's time to turn on some Tom Petty and get my shower jam on. 

'She's a good girl, loves her mama/ Loves Jesus and America too...' C'mon people. Sing with me. You know you want to. Big head nodding here, hair flip, rock'n'roll hand signals. Let's do this: 

'And I'm free, free fallin'/Yeah I'm free, free fallin'' 

'Free fallin' now we're free fallin'...'

Who doesn't love 1980s classic rock?


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