A week before Christmas, I overheard my daughter Amanda telling someone to send all eight grandchildren to my house so she and the others could enjoy a vacation without the kids.
She laughed as she explained that I had nothing else to do, that I could handle all eight children, and that I had already paid for Christmas dinner and bought the presents.
I stood frozen, realizing how little they valued my time and effort. I had always been there for my family, but this time I decided things would be different.
On the morning of December 23, I packed my belongings, got into my car, and drove straight to the seaside. For once, Christmas would be about me.