Tomorrow's Eve

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Tomorrow’s Eve

Well, the holidays are over and the New Year has been officially rung in. Presents have been returned to stores and resolutions have already been broken. The aftermath of the holidays…the calm after the storm has begun. No more running in different directions like a squirrel on an eight-lane highway. Everyone is back to work and back on schedule and the annually contacted relatives are once again filed into the archives of our memory to receive the obligatory card or telephone call again next year around the same time. The credit card bills will soon arrive from the gifts we never intended to buy until we were caught up in the “holiday spirit of giving.” (A phrase retailers invented to increase our generosity using guilt to overcome the reality of the depth of our pockets.) So…now what? The anticipation… the food…the parties…the gifts…what comes next? How does one look forward to the ordinary days that lie ahead?

I’m reminded of a lesson that I was taught by my 2^nd grader many years ago. I had finished work one day in January and went to ASP (an acronym for After School Program, although the children often refer to it as “After School Prison”) to pick her up, go home and begin the wondrous task of selecting something that I hadn’t defrosted earlier to make for dinner. I routinely signed my name on the roster and sat in the nearby designated chair, which was still warm from my ASP parent predecessors who had, exhausted from a day’s work, mundanely selected one of the hyper children from the pack to take home that evening hoping they had chosen the right one. Like robots we took our turn claiming the little humans that belonged to us, attempting to hide our tired minds with a perky greeting and a genuinely interested, “So, how was school today?” attitude.

My daughter came out of the library doors with a smile upon her face, as usual. She gave me a high-five, a hug and her 20-lb book bag to lug to the car. We buckled up our seat belts and while I began to absorb my daughter’s interpretation of all the important events of elementary school in the form of “Megan said that...” and “Bradley did this,” I began to back out of the parking space. Out of the blue, I heard my daughter say, “Hey mom, let’s not go home.” To which I replied, “Silly girl, we have to go home. Mommy has to finish last night’s dishes, make dinner and finish the laundry and I’m sure you have lots of homework to do.” She contemplated the assignments that Mrs. Carlin had assigned that afternoon and repeated with renewed conviction, “Let’s not go home…let’s go to the park and then go for ice cream…let’s celebrate!!” I said, “Sweetheart, the holidays are over. There is no holiday to celebrate now. We will have to wait until next year to celebrate again.” The honesty and innocence of her reply will forever remain in my mind, “Mommy, we don’t need a reason to celebrate. Let’s be happy we’re together today. Let’s make it our own holiday and we’ll call it, “Tomorrow’s Eve.” Immediately, my suspicious mind started questioning her intent. Had she really had this wonderful epiphany or was it just a clever disguise to get what she wanted? After all, she was an expert on how to manipulate me using the Working Mommy Guilt technique. And wasn’t it just last year she used her highly polished WMG skills to make us the proud parents of “Cookie,” the perpetually excavating guinea pig? Either way, I was thoroughly impressed with her thought process. We were stopped at the intersection by then ready to make our routine left turn to drive home. The park, of course, would mean a right turn. (Possibly indicating some subliminal message that turning right was the right thing to do? Now, how did she do that? She is GOOD!) My mind searched for an answer to give her, reasons why we could not possibly celebrate “Tomorrow’s Eve” today. I knew every reason I thought of however, would be skillfully debated and overruled. It was like dealing with O.J.’s defense attorneys. I looked into her big blue eyes. I thought of the dishes, the laundry and the “busyness” that awaited me at home. The moment didn’t require words. I switched the turn signal from left to right and we went on to celebrate our first “Tomorrow’s Eve.” We played tag. I went down the slide in my business suit and heels. Then we ate ice cream.

My advice for the New Year? I highly suggest setting aside some “Tomorrow’s Eve” holidays on your busy calendar.

Linda Ellis
www.lindaellis.net