Christmas When Your Mother Visits

This time I was the mother spending Christmas with her daughter in her own place she shares with her boyfriend. I have nearly bitten my tongue off so many times, wanting to keep my mouth shut...hearing my own mother's voice (and Thumper's, from Bambi) "if you can't say something nice, don't say nothing at all"...and realizing I did not want to be a meddling mother who visits. However, as anyone who knows me, that isn't easy and things slipped out...and I was swiftly reminded that it's her house...heh heh.

Not wanting to having people over for dinner tomorrow in a messy place, I shut my face and got to work, hearing someone else's voice "if you're not part of the solution, then you're part of the problem". I cleaned the floors, did my laundry(and some of theirs), cleaned the kitchen, bathroom, vacuumed and tidied up the rooms of junk, Christmas stocking stuff that has spread all over, bits of trash like candy wrappings, wrapping paper, gift tags, ribbon, or twist ties from some random gift...you know, the usual, bagging it up with the emptied wastebins from all the rooms. And I started packing my suitcase. Not because I am ready to leave, but because I am going to be busy over the remaining days so thought I should get a little organized.

Now I can relax and dive back into Stephen King's Lisey's Story while waiting for my darling daughter to come home from work and head out grocery shopping with her and the other.