Christmas and Menopause. These two things should not coexist in space and time. Each is overwhelming to midlife goddesses by itself. Together, they can bring us to our creaking knees.

This year, I vowed to myself, would be different. I’d be organized, but not anal-retentive. I’d go easy on the shopping (at first, I was going to make presents all year long – a goal jettisoned around Dec. 1 due to lack of inventory and initiative.) Most of all, I would relax into the Christmas spirit and ENJOY it without getting harried and hurried.

Long story short: didn’t work. Baking went poorly with hot flashes competing with the oven for the high HEAT setting. Christmas letter hasn’t been sent because it has not been written. The little shopping I succumbed to was crazy as ever. Feeling of peace on Earth, goodwill to men? Right now, harder to hold onto than a greased mongoose.

I firmly believe that every menopausal women should have her very own contingent of elves to help her through the Christmas season. We need cookie baking elves, shopping elves, wrapping and decorating elves, and a couple elves just to fan us through this most hectic of holidays. (A blogging elf would be nice, too. As long as we’re dreaming.)

So I’m calling a halt to the frenzy. Seriously! No more faux Martha Stewart. I can BUY cookies if I really want them. I can write a Valentine’s Day letter this year. (Procrastination is a practical modality for menopausal women. Just let it go long enough and maybe it won’t have to be done.) Ix-nay on more shopping or wrapping. Likewise decorating: the tree’s upright and good enough. I’m going to put Slack Key Christmas Carols on the stereo, grab a cup of eggnog, and dive into a good book. Maybe I can celebrate this way for the next ten days. Maybe all menopausal goddesses could do the same. A season without sacrificing ourselves. That would truly be a Christmas miracle.