The decorations have come down (to the heartbroken tears of one little boy); the selection boxes put up high out of reach (to the heartbroken tears of one little girl); the DS3, iPad and Wii are all back on rationed time (to the heartbroken tears of one bigger boy) and the empty bottles of Prosecco have been recycled but not replaced (to the heartbroken tears of one Mummy).
Christmas was aces. On toast. With jiggle bells on.
We all had a blinkin ball. But tomorrow the children are all back in school and it’s time to hit the ground running with work. And fitness. And diets. And the 365 resolutions that will hopefully last more than 365 minutes.
Again. For another 10 months (we all know it starts in November as soon as we have washed off the fake blood stains from our clothes). As much as I have enjoyed it there is a big part of me happy to take down the tinsel.
1. No more sweating over Christmas lights
We love a Christmas light in our house. We had every surface covered in twinkling lights of every description. Even the lack of plug sockets did not hold us back. No sirree. Since the advent of the battery-powered fairy light (what an invention) we have had a no holds barred approach to lumination. With approximately 10 battery-powered fairy lights on the go, it presented a daily dilemma. Who is worthy of the battery power? I didn’t want to spend billions on batteries so each evening would laboriously be spent putting on the battery lights and turning them back off when the kids were in bed. Except for Christmas eve when I allowed the husband to enjoy the flashing fanfare. It seems the Christmas lights are more attention grabbing than toddlers during Yuletide. In addition to the battery quandary, there was the nightly stand off each evening on who would unplug the rest of the display before bed. Then there was the “have we turned off the Christmas tree lights?” and “will they set the house on fire?” dread every time we stepped outside the front door. Oh the joys!
2. No more keeping the house tidy in case of guests
Did you do that thing? You know were you are relaxing post bacon butty with a open box of Celebrations on your lap when you panicked that someone might just call to visit and catch you in mismatched PJs amid toy Armageddon? Many a moment was ruined by such paranoia. And do you know what? No one turned up when the house was spick and span. Oh no. If anyone did indeed come (not sure who I was expecting) it was just after I had changed a nappy or when I was having a lie in and the husband was in charge downstairs alone (think dens, discarded night wear and undergarments mixed in with the breadcrumbs of a million four slices of toast).
3. No more eating everything you see
Mini hero? Yes please. Peanuts? Go on then. Turkey and cranberry sandwich? Crisps with a selection of dips? Mince pie? Weird beef wellington bites? Why the hell not. Pickled onion? More cake? Roses? Curry in? Curry out? Pizza? Chinese? Fish and chips? Another roast dinner (with the works)? Ah well bring it on. It’s Christmas. As lush as it all was I am slightly over the gluttony now. Yesterday the hubby asked what I wanted for my tea and do you know what I craved? A boiled egg with toast. Better still a bowl of tomato soup. With water.
4. No more being jolly 24 hours a day
Merriment, laughter, mirth and a sprinkle of hee hee and ho ho. It was good while it lasted but I am now a bit fed up with festive cheer. You are not really allowed to moan in December (otherwise Santa won’t come) and there is only so much organised frivolity and fun one can take. I’ve really missed my whine with wine and my bitch with beer. Naturally cantankerous, I now come into my own in the bleak mid winter when everyone is lamenting and filled with woe. Fantastic stuff.
5. No more shopping
My Fridays off will no longer be spent in retail parks or growling at strangers over parking spaces. No more stressing about whether I have spent £50 to get my £7 off in my weekly shop (damn you enticing supermarket vouchers). No more purchasing a daily tub of Celebrations. I don’t have to look at another sparkly top for a year and wonder if I’ll look fab or like a bejeweled fool. Nor do I have to spend my waking moments cursing Walt Disney for only making two Elsa dresses and one Olaf doll just for sheer sport as if he was bored of raking in millions.
Christmas, I will miss you.
You did me proud.
But I’m off to grumble and gripe on the phone to my mate whilst eating my plain eggy soldiers in my filthy house with only one bulb to light my way. Happy days.
|Gabe says: “Mum did you get any cream eggs in the shop today?
Only 89 days to go!”