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Christmas Eve, just before midnight, found me at my aunt’s house, laying on a blow up mattress in the dark with my husband and 16 month old baby (I still can’t bring myself to call him a toddler…).  As I lay there listening to my cousins take shots and yell out which song they should play next, and my aunts laughing as they exchanged stories, I couldn’t help but laugh.

I was super shy when I was little.  Even around my family.  So our Christmas Eve midnight celebration was sometimes too much for me to handle, I would just get overwhelmed and feel super uncomfortable.  I specifically remember one year running to the exact same room in my aunt’s house and laying on the bunk bed in the dark, and crying.  Not a crazy, emotional sob, but just, I dunno, “I”m really uncomfortable” crying, does that make any sense?  I still can’t understand why I felt this way, I mean, I love my family and they’re all great, so I don’t understand why I would feel so shy and introverted around them.

Anyhow, here I am, decades later, in the same exact room, in the dark, at the same time of the year, but this time I’m trapped in here because of my son, who obviously was very tired and needed to sleep (and also wasn’t feeling well), but couldn’t quite stay asleep with all the celebrations going on outside the room. I had to laugh that when I was little I voluntarily secluded myself, and years later here I was just wanting to be outside this darn room, but couldn’t because dammit, I’m an adult now with responsibilities. It was funny to me how some things change, and some don’t.

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