(To the tune of 'Away in a manger')
Away in a manger, (well, his Digger bed),
My little lad Charlie laid down his sweet head.
Next door in her boudoir, his sister did sleep,
her head filled with dreams of the haul she would reap.
T'was the eve before Christmas, and the lounge was packed
Of stockings and giftbags and presents in sacks.
The kids had been spoiled, with toys by the tonne.
The cats had a present, the guinea pigs had none.
In the morning so early my children did wake.
The Daughter so excited her hands they did shake.
Like tiny tornadoes they ripped through their stuff,
for goodness sake kids - is 5 sacks not enough?!
Completely spolit rotten, those two kids of mine!
Those hours spent wrapping, that effort and time!
And all of it done with in less than an hour,
no sooner had they finished, the mood it turned sour.
The kids they were rowing, the tears they did flow.
All of us stuck in with nowhere to go.
When dinner was ready we sat down to eat,
"But I don't like roast dinner!" the Daughter did bleat.
Two dinners went untouched, two plates full intact.
The veg went to the dustbin, the turkey to the cats.
I knew what was coming, my time I did bide,
as it got to half two and "I'm hungry!" they cried.
As day turned to evening, the mood got more light,
knowing the kids would soon retire for the night.
Christmas is stressful, no doubt about that,
there wouldn't be this headache if we just had the cats!
They say that Christmas is a time for good cheer,
Well I say good riddance - and roll on New Year!!
Wednesday 26 December 2012
Friday 21 December 2012
So this is Christmas...
Well, we are but a few days away from the birth of our Lord, if you're a religious person (or the birth of Santa, if you're my three year old) and yes, finally, I'm feeling rather festive. The tree and decorations are up - despite the best efforts of the cats, all the presents are wrapped and the food shopping is done. None of it has gone smoothly though, as is to be expected; this is me after all! I thought I was being clever, buying a 'slim' tree, as space in our lounge is quite limited. Slim is definately the word - it's 7ft tall with the circumference of my waist. On first glance it's ok, but look at it too long and it's just a long twig with tinsel on. As for the wrapping, I ran out of sellotape with just a few to go and had to use brown parcel tape (sorry kids, Santa went to the Co-Op but refused to pay four quid when all he had left to wrap was a pack of hair bobbles and a tube of Smarties). It's The Daughter's fault I ran out anyway; her and her obsession with wrapping anything and everything up as 'gifts' for people. Over the last week I've been presented with parcels of Hama Beads, one of the cat's toys, a coaster and half of her Sylvanian families. It was sweet the first few times but kind of lost it's charm after the hundredth unwrapping of a bottle top. Especially as each 'gift' was given wth the words "I want it back"!
As for the food shopping, that went as expected. I joined the queue to get in Sainsbury's, the queues to pick stuff off the shelves in Sainsbury's, the queue to pay for stuff in Sainsbury's and the queue to get out of the carpark at Sainsbury's. I could have cried as I handed over my debit card - both at how much I'd spent on festive filth, and at the thought of how fat I'm going to get eating it all. And then I got home and realised I'd forgotten sausage rolls. Never mind your 'onion bhaji dippers' and your 'tempura king prawns with sweet chili and glitter dip' - a self respecting buffet isn't a buffet without sausage rolls.
I've had my festive illness (tonsilitis this year). I've bought the cats their present (Dreamies). The kids have some new festive pyjamas. And I've bought Santa a bottle of Stella and some maltesers. So I think we're good to go. Before I know it, it'll all be over and I'll be settling down with a selection box and some onion bhaji dippers to watch the demise of Derek Branning (I know Kat Slater is a bit of a grubber, but Derek Branning, seriously? He looks like a balloon with a slow leak!!) and festive versions of family favourites that were filmed in August. I shall see you on the other side - with a waist significantly bigger than our skinny tree and a desperate urge to take the decorations down so I can dust properly. Happy Christmas everyone Xxx!!
As for the food shopping, that went as expected. I joined the queue to get in Sainsbury's, the queues to pick stuff off the shelves in Sainsbury's, the queue to pay for stuff in Sainsbury's and the queue to get out of the carpark at Sainsbury's. I could have cried as I handed over my debit card - both at how much I'd spent on festive filth, and at the thought of how fat I'm going to get eating it all. And then I got home and realised I'd forgotten sausage rolls. Never mind your 'onion bhaji dippers' and your 'tempura king prawns with sweet chili and glitter dip' - a self respecting buffet isn't a buffet without sausage rolls.
I've had my festive illness (tonsilitis this year). I've bought the cats their present (Dreamies). The kids have some new festive pyjamas. And I've bought Santa a bottle of Stella and some maltesers. So I think we're good to go. Before I know it, it'll all be over and I'll be settling down with a selection box and some onion bhaji dippers to watch the demise of Derek Branning (I know Kat Slater is a bit of a grubber, but Derek Branning, seriously? He looks like a balloon with a slow leak!!) and festive versions of family favourites that were filmed in August. I shall see you on the other side - with a waist significantly bigger than our skinny tree and a desperate urge to take the decorations down so I can dust properly. Happy Christmas everyone Xxx!!
Wednesday 12 December 2012
Where are the Elves when you need them??
I have what is known as 'Wrappers Back'; a condition quite common at this time of year. It comes from sitting on the floor for hours at a time while surrounded by 8000 gifts - all of which are mocking me with "Stop getting distracted by Emmerdale and wrap us goddammit, there's only 2 weeks to Christmas and we're still sitting in carrier bags!". There are little bits of sellotape stuck all over the nearby furniture, to save me having to use my elbow to hold a flap of paper down while I try to break off tape with my teefs, and scrappy bits of paper that I cut a bit too small for the slow cooker but will do for the jigsaw I need to wrap in 28 presents time.
I start off wrapping with gusto, but the novelty doesn't take long to wear off. As the backache sets in and I'm missing Eastenders thanks to figuring out how to wrap a triangle shaped present (with great difficulty), my mind starts to wander to Christmas morn... Will my offspring marvel over those carefully wrapped gifts? Will they chime "Oh mama! We can scarcely bring ourselves to open these gifts, so beautifully are they presented!"? Will they open each one with decorum, reading each label in turn and appreciating the time and effort that has gone into each one? Will they chuff. If this year is anything like the last, they'll both be tearing through the paper with all the fervour of a starving dog in a bin! The Boychild will want every single thing taking out of the box to play with (why does everything come screwed and wired into the box these days? What's wrong with a bit of polystyrene?) which means he'll still be opening his mid-afternoon. While The Daughter goes through her sacks like a tiny tornado, barely even looking at what she's got. Maybe she'll be momentarily slowed down by the dog-poo game though, and I swear - if that game comes as an almighty disappointment after all the wheedling she's done - it's going on Ebay first thing boxing day! There is ONE thing I like about wrapping - instead of cutting the paper, I do that 'Szchuszching' thing, where you slide the scissors through the paper. Makes me feel like a ninja.
Well, I'd better get wrapping, there's a 15 minute window til Emmerdale starts. On the other hand, I could just stick a load of sellotape round the carrier bags and save us all the effort..?
I start off wrapping with gusto, but the novelty doesn't take long to wear off. As the backache sets in and I'm missing Eastenders thanks to figuring out how to wrap a triangle shaped present (with great difficulty), my mind starts to wander to Christmas morn... Will my offspring marvel over those carefully wrapped gifts? Will they chime "Oh mama! We can scarcely bring ourselves to open these gifts, so beautifully are they presented!"? Will they open each one with decorum, reading each label in turn and appreciating the time and effort that has gone into each one? Will they chuff. If this year is anything like the last, they'll both be tearing through the paper with all the fervour of a starving dog in a bin! The Boychild will want every single thing taking out of the box to play with (why does everything come screwed and wired into the box these days? What's wrong with a bit of polystyrene?) which means he'll still be opening his mid-afternoon. While The Daughter goes through her sacks like a tiny tornado, barely even looking at what she's got. Maybe she'll be momentarily slowed down by the dog-poo game though, and I swear - if that game comes as an almighty disappointment after all the wheedling she's done - it's going on Ebay first thing boxing day! There is ONE thing I like about wrapping - instead of cutting the paper, I do that 'Szchuszching' thing, where you slide the scissors through the paper. Makes me feel like a ninja.
Well, I'd better get wrapping, there's a 15 minute window til Emmerdale starts. On the other hand, I could just stick a load of sellotape round the carrier bags and save us all the effort..?
Wednesday 5 December 2012
It's beginning to look a lot like...dog poo?
All my Christmas shopping is done! Hurrah!! I actually thought I'd finished last week, but then The Daughter decided to write a letter to Santa, and none of the things she'd been rabbiting on about all year - or that I'd bought - were on the list. Eek. She'd asked the bearded fella for a photograph maker (neither The Husband or I were able to figure out what she meant unfortunately. "A camera?" we asked. "No! A photograph maker!" she shrieked, giving us the 'You're both morons' look), some Lego (out of the question, she's only just started playing with the bits she got for her birthday. In March. Plus I resent paying £30 for something so tiny it finds its way up the hoover from the other side of the room), a secret diary thing that looks like it has to scan your retina and verify your fingerprints before you can open it (I obliged with this one, only I bought her a cheaper version with a little key you keep on a bracelet. I mean, seriously, what sort of secrets can a five year old need to keep? 'Monday - stole a mini Twix from the fridge and wiped a bogey on the wall next to my bed'?).
The last item on the list was something called 'Doggie Doo'. Now, for those not down with the kids (there's no need to be ashamed, I had to Google it), this is a game whereby a plastic dog poos, and the players have to collect it - the one who collects the most, wins. This is all the rage amongst her peers by all accounts, kind of like Furbies and Girls World's were when I was growing up. I felt so bad at hardly getting her anything she'd asked Santa for, that I went to town and bought it yesterday. I can't actually believe that I parted with £18 for a game where she has to collect poo to win. If I'd known that was the sort of weird dickens she was into, I'd have wrapped up a cheap scoop, a bag of cat litter and an envelope containing a years pass to clean out our cat trays!
We didn't have anything like that when I was a kid. Although, to be fair, I would have wanted the dog-poo game too. Not that I would have got it though! I asked for 'Mr Frosty' every bloody year for about a decade and never got any closer to it than gazing wistfully at the picture in the Argos book! Yes, that is a hint of bitterness you detect. I was almost tempted to buy it for myself a few years back when I discovered they still sold it. But I bet the long-held dream wouldn't live up to the reality. I wonder if it will be the same for The Daughter when she unwraps her Doggie Doo on Christmas morn. I shall have to refrain from muttering "What a load of crap...literally!".
The last item on the list was something called 'Doggie Doo'. Now, for those not down with the kids (there's no need to be ashamed, I had to Google it), this is a game whereby a plastic dog poos, and the players have to collect it - the one who collects the most, wins. This is all the rage amongst her peers by all accounts, kind of like Furbies and Girls World's were when I was growing up. I felt so bad at hardly getting her anything she'd asked Santa for, that I went to town and bought it yesterday. I can't actually believe that I parted with £18 for a game where she has to collect poo to win. If I'd known that was the sort of weird dickens she was into, I'd have wrapped up a cheap scoop, a bag of cat litter and an envelope containing a years pass to clean out our cat trays!
We didn't have anything like that when I was a kid. Although, to be fair, I would have wanted the dog-poo game too. Not that I would have got it though! I asked for 'Mr Frosty' every bloody year for about a decade and never got any closer to it than gazing wistfully at the picture in the Argos book! Yes, that is a hint of bitterness you detect. I was almost tempted to buy it for myself a few years back when I discovered they still sold it. But I bet the long-held dream wouldn't live up to the reality. I wonder if it will be the same for The Daughter when she unwraps her Doggie Doo on Christmas morn. I shall have to refrain from muttering "What a load of crap...literally!".
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