It's Called Self-Care

The Christmas tree isn't totally down, I'll admit it. I figured that I if I was doing the job, I could take my sweet time. This means that our living room currently looks like an ornament refugee camp.

Our holiday cards were never mailed, because they arrived so late due to printing problems, I didn't have any time to get them done during the festivities. 

I keep having that feeling that there is a bill that I need to pay, something that I missed, something I don't know about, despite looking over our bank account and credit card statement repeatedly. This shows me all the money we spent on this and that, presents and travel and food and general December merriment, and then I just feel more anxious.

January is the holidays' hangover.

The temperature is warming up, though, all the way to the thirties this weekend, meaning (hopefully, oh goodness gracious, hopefully) some of the streets will be better plowed and parking will become available again near EJ's school (yesterday's school pick-up was an exercise in madness, sans parking spots). We are planning an adventure with good friends to Eataly on Saturday, where they have a little piece of magic called a Nutella Bar. Yes, you read that right: a Nutella Bar, with many Nutella-laden items to chose from. And for my part, I have a lovely small pitcher of crêpe batter in my fridge, made during the polar vortex deep freeze, and am kindly doling out a couple of hot delicious crêpes to myself each day. 

I've come to believe that the optimal topping for a crêpe is simple: a little butter, a sprinkling of sugar, and fresh lemon juice. I've made a few like that this week, but this morning I conducted my own pre-party for this Saturday, and slathered some Nutella on my breakfast crêpe, my old favorite, a classic. It took me right back to Crêpes à Gogo, the best crêpes in Aix-en-Provence, found at a restaurant that is no more than a stall in a subterranean passage. I'd tell you that I served my Nutella crêpe with a healthy breakfast, but I'd be straight-up lying.

I know that January is supposed to be the month that we make healthy changes, going on cleanses (Have you seen this gem? Jamila, you rock my world.), and eliminate all those foods from your diet that packed on the pounds over the holidays. Does that really work with a hangover, though? I think not.

Later today, I'll begrudgingly finish the tree decoration take-down, and I'll probably contact our holiday card printer again about simply returning the cards that we didn't hand out. And no, I won't be eating a rich food at every single meal, much like the last week of December for many of us. Yes, I'll go to the gym. I'll eat veggies. I'll drink a flotilla's worth of fresh water every day. I am having crêpes, though, a couple of small, eggy, lacy delights ever day, until my January headache goes away.