Bah Humbug!

 

Can I please stop gift wrapping yet? I'm developing Carpel Tunnel Syndrome.  

This is what happens when you're child is born two days before Christmas and she has nine (yes nine) pre-school teachers to buy for. Parents all over whinge about low teacher to student ratios and how it affects education, but it makes life a lot easier at the end of the year, I can tell you.  Well I can't actually because I wouldn't know about that, but I will next year.  Three teachers in Kindergarten, four tops. 

OK so it's actually a 'me' thing I'm a gift-a-holic. But our girl's been attending a fabulous pre-school and the teachers and carers, after three years, have become like family. This being Lucie's final year, I wanted to make a special effort. 

As I did with our elderly ex-neighbor who recently lost her husband (she's a tough one because she's diabetic so no boxed chocolates or bottle of wine shortcuts to be made there). Also our other ex-neighbors  had a baby since we all moved, so I just picked up a little something for junior. I do seem to be neglecting our current neighbors - but I say hello I wave...Oh and then there's my domestic support team; our lovely dog walker and Lucie's ex-day care carer, who is now our baby/dog/ house-sitter.

So as I do every year, I've gone and bought more presents for teachers,carers and ex-neighbors than family. I've run myself ragged, zapping through Christmas traffic like a deranged formula one driver, swearing cursing, honking, taking corners on two wheels. But it's like everyone between home and the mall is driving like they're either channeling Fangio on taking a truck load of Prozac. I fall into the former category of course.

One morning after school run I got stuck in the mall car park of all places. So I went up all the ramps to the roof, drove like a mad woman across the roof-top of the entire complex came down another ramp,only to have to take another ticket go into another section of the car park so I could try to get out at an unblocked exit. Getting out of car-parks takes longer than your shopping this time of year. STAY AWAY FROM THE MALL.

Night before last I stayed up decorating the living room and putting out birthday presents. Tonight I'm wrapping Santa's presents, while chomping my way through a pile of apples left out for the reindeer, (with Santa's milk as a chaser). The daddy person has volunteered to tackle the tub of chocolate mouse - uh huh.. I never want to see another apple as long as I live, and I'm hoping like hell we don't get another ant infestation from the apple core's I've scattered around the hearth.

My parents did Christmas so well, and it was about giving as well as getting. I'm following tradition in that we will all give each other presents which have built up under the Christmas tree over the last few weeks. Tonight Santa's bringing three presents for Lucie, previously requested in her 'letter to Santa' which was actually an email. (so much easier for Santa, I'm sure he has an elf or two monitoring his Gmail). This all involves a bit of secrecy, making sure there is no trace at all to be found of the separate and very different garish wrapping paper and glittery ribbons and special gift tags.

Santa also has to bring presents for Buddy. For the sake of you non-doggie people I'll explain that one;

(1) Lucie is of the opinion that Buddy, being a very good dog, would definitely be on Santa's 'nice' list. So getting a present would be a given if Santa is (a) real and (b)all he's cracked up to be.

(2) It's part of the Christmas morning fun, Lucie thinks it's hilarious when Bud unwraps his own presents and does a lap of honor with each one. 

(3) Buddy understands the concept of presents, he understands NOT getting presents when everyone else does (especially Lucie). And I don't want to hurt his feelings because he's a sweetheart.  

OK so you non-doggie people won't get those last two. Sorry, but if you could live with his 'my feelings are hurt' face then you're made of tougher stuff than us. Even my mum sends him presents.

So as the wrapping paper runs low I sigh. Either relief or exhaustion, take your pick. 

Every year December goes by in a blurr - a mad rush to the finish line. But with that comes the moments that somehow make all the rushing stressing and hair-pulling well and truly worth it...

When Lucie was piling those bloody apples onto her Bunnykins plate for the reindeer, and putting down a tub of her precious chocolate mousse and some milk for Santa in her favorite pink mug, her little body was quite literally quivering with excitement.  The pure joy in her smile was just exquisite.

 HAPPY CHRISTMAS YOU LOT

PS: I'm gonna go and make my husband eat some apples. 

PPS: We are flying out tomorrow afternoon for France - yep off to the in-laws again - and I haven't packed my case yet. The dog, hands on his paws, is showing me his most thoroughly depressed face, meanwhile I am in packing-denial.

PPPS: 

Below is a less than exquisite demonstration of the difficulties one can encounter attempting to open a wine bottle without the benefit of opposable thumbs.

 OK, just kidding - it's a chew toy - Buddy's Christmas present from our dog-walker the lovely and equally energetic; Ingrid.

Sweet Dreams

Hugh Jackman and I were in the bathroom, the water still gushing into the huge tub.

We were both almost undressed, wearing only our underpants and unbuttoned shirts, and when he opened his arms I pressed myself into his embrace. He sighed as our bare skin made contact whispering; "you take my breath away." Taking that as an invitation - I gave him a long lingering kiss.

After a moment he gripped my shoulders and holding me away for a moment he smiled and said;

"Waaaaaa! Mu-meeee! I had a baaad dream!"  

In a fog of sleep, with the baby monitor still shrieking, I flip over my iPhone to learn it's 5.30am. I slap my forehead, Shit. "IS IT TOO MUCH TO ASK THAT I PASH HUGH JACKMAN IN PEACE?!"

Under normal circumstances, I sleep like a corpse. I have vivid dreams. Often nice ones that I like to ponder on throughout the day. I often dream about my Mr Frenchie, sometimes the odd movie star depending on what I was watching before bed.  I once dreamed I had a shopping spree on Rodeo Drive with a limitless credit card....that was lovely till I woke up and all the Chanel, Gucci and Christian Louboutin shopping bags were gone.

But today there will be no happy reminiscences of celebrity or any other snogs - 'everyone' had the sleeping-shouts last night and I hardly got a wink. I live in a family of sleep talkers.

Last night  my Frenchie was shouting; "chateaux carton! Ha ha ha - chateau carton! Ha ha ha".... (roughly translated this means wine cask) Go figure.

Lucie was shouting;  "mummy! urgh-grunt"  I got up and went into her room and she was deep asleep with her mouth flapping.

Next it was the dog's turn. Buddy was shouting; "woof, woof, yelp woof!"

And then the freaking kookaburras laughing their arses off at four-fecking-thirty...

And of course somewhere between 5am and 5.30 I almost enjoyed a brief bath-time sexploit with Hugh Jackman.

 Any wonder that I'm grumpy :0(

When exactly does the sleeping through thing really actually and permanently happen? Every time you think it's working, it's suddenly and randomly not.

'Someone's' had a nightmare ; It's the age for those I'm told, but I've heard that one before, right along with the growth spurts and teething excuses.   Also the need to pee thing is new since up till now she's had a champion bladder and we've had dry nights since week two of toilet training. Teething's long gone, but at the time that gave us a good helping of sleepless nights.,  Ask any doctor and you'll be told 'it's just a stage'  but what does that mean anyway?   Next time I bump into Hugh, I'll be sure and apologize and tell him 'it's just a stage she's going through.'

Epilogue - Two nights later..

 

I am Bella in the Twilight Movie and Chris Hemsworth is a sort of Thor-ish version of Edward Cullen. Edward (Chris) moves closer, slowly, his blue eyes glistening in the half light.  He's going to bite me and I don't care. I want him to. I tilt my head exposing my neck and he hesitates. 

I feel his breath caress my bare skin as he whispers something...

Then it's not a whisper it's a shout...

"Muuumeeeeee! I need to do weeeeeeeeeeeeeeee"

Damn. Not again.

Sock Puppets !

For entertainment or medical purposes. 

In 15 minutes flat or a bit longer for this little guy above. 

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