I haven't done one of these posts in ages but the Grinch is rippling under my skin at the moment and I need to vent my adverse feelings towards Christmas.
I know I should love it and embrace it;enjoying spending quality time with my loved ones, and once Christmas arrives I honestly do, but quite frankly the lead up to Christmas Day leaves me more stressed than the Royal Mail. Those Christmas adverts they are showing on television this month which have caused so many women to moan, well that's me! I do run around like that! My husband works really long hours and I am at home, so the buck stops with me. I make Christmas!
I suppose I shouldn't mind as it is only for one month of the year, but I do like to whinge and moan because it takes me away from my writing. The most I've written this month is a To Do list!
In November, the uneasy feeling in my stomach develops, as I avoid everyone who informs me that they already have all their presents bought and wrapped. These people make me nervous! I feel like the Festive race has begun and I haven't even tied my shoelaces.
December 1st arrives and I can normally be found going into a major meltdown because I haven't done anything yet. Why I get so stressed by this, I don't know, I mean I have 24 days left to do everything. Right? Yet still the jaw clenching arrives as panic takes control. Hubby normally has a stack of paper bags at the ready to alleviate the hyperventilating that inevitably occurs.
The lists begin. And when I say lists, I don't mean a couple, no I mean a whole ruddy notebook full. From what we will eat on Christmas Day to what needs to be cleaned before the visitors descend. Every conversation I have involves comparing lists of jobs with others. This year I have taken a bold move and boycotted sending out any Christmas cards. I like to think I'm doing it for the environment, but I just don't have time to write and post the damn things. However my boycott is crumbling with every new card that arrives, handed over by various elderly neighbours, designed especially by their three year old grand child; my guilt runneth over!
I now have to make a list of the presents my family may want for Christmas, because somewhere in my past I was elected and employed without my knowing as the Gift Oracle - I am supposed to know what everyone wants! Hold on a second, while I consult my crystal ball. I also have to wrap everything which would be fine if I hadn't given birth to twins a week before Christmas. My dining room table becomes a production line as I wrap, divide and separate presents according to occasion and child.
Ideally Christmas for me would be full of endless days eating hot chestnuts and drinking mulled cider as I laze in front of a roaring fire with an excellent Christmas book. It would not involve eating the remains of my freezer so I can refill it and sticking my head in the oven, hoping I won't choke on Mr Muscle as I clean it. I want to be attending Christmas parties and singing carols around the Christmas tree not fighting with the sellotape and searching for the elusive last present I know I put in a safe place.
It's fine, honestly I'm calm, just ignore the twitch in my eye. I know it will all be over soon. Come Christmas Day, the turkey will be burning nicely and my cheeks will be ruddy from way too much champagne before midday. The kids will have swept through the presents like piranhas and a collection will lay on the stairs waiting to either be returned or repaired and life will return to normal. I just need to get to the point and soon. So for now I'm constantly repeating the following mantra' Christmas is not for life, it's just for Christmas.' Say it with me ladies!
Photo from Photobucket
Happy blooming Christmas everyone!