I seem to have a love-hate relationship with holidays

Admittedly the love tends to outweigh the hate, but there is a certain sense of dread I get when I hear the words "Thanksgiving is happening soon," or something to that effect. This isn't to say that I don't love my family, because I do, but I know that any holiday that forces a gathering of anywhere upwards of 9 people means some serious exhaustion for me and for the people around me. The dread seems to sink in because I know I'll have to take some margin of responsibility for the tiny kids of my cousins, a duty to which I am neither particularly well-suited nor exactly happy to do.

I like kids, sure, but I tend to like people more once I can have a cogent conversation with them. The kids which are usually remanded to my oh-so-watchful care are far too young to have a conversation, or even the barest skeleton of a conversation, with, and are guaranteed to drain me of any energy I might have used for something constructive. I wouldn't mind so much if I were simply asked to look after the little ones, but the situation usually revolves around the kids finding me during periods where they are not at all supervised, and then I am obligated to look after them until I can find someone else to take them off my hands.

This may seem like I avoid my duties in watching them, but the period of time which I normally watch them usually stretch on for about an hour, sometimes more. I try to be engaged, really I do, but it's hard to be engaged in something that will only stop me from doing anything worthwhile. Greedy? Probably, but this is the scenario I run time and again during the holidays. God, I'm tired already.

Sorry if the whinge-fest is bothersome. Just needed to say something articulate in the middle of craziness. Review coming later.