Friday 25 December 2009

Best Christmas Ever

I know I must say this every year but this year's Christmas really was the best ever.
For a start , when you haven't eaten real food for 4 months, a roast turkey dinner with all the trimmings is sheer heaven and as for the taste of a warm mince pie oozing with brandy butter ... don't start me.
My real downfall though was the Quality Street tin in which I've left a large dent. Thought I'd be gagging for chocolate but no it was the toffees that caught me out. You can't beat a toffee penny with a cuppa in the afternoon of Christmas Day.
The boys have been angelic , in no small way down to the fact that I decided to not care if they ate the entire contents of their selection boxes by 8am and ate no veggies with their Christmas lunch whatsoever.
They were delighted with all of their presents and I re-discovered the joys of shopping early for their gifts - I'd forgotten half the contents.
DH surprised me with some glorious Jo Malone cologne and bath oil and the boys bought me some Mac make up to go with my new glam look. One happy bunny.
Best fun of all though was taking a photo of us by the tree on Christmas Eve with the self timer and printing it out onto a card for the boys to open on Christmas morning. Youngest son was so bowled over by our story that Santa had taken the photo - bless him. And even more alarming yet delightful was the fact that I looked so skinny in the photo - one BIG change from last year when I would have filled the frame.

Saturday 19 December 2009

Is that really me ?

I went to have my photo taken the other day at a posh studio in Richmond - not a posh price though - this was something I'd treated myself to at the very start of my Lighter Life journey - a voucher from Argos in their Bank Holiday sale for the bargain price of a fiver.

It was one of those makeover deals - you go in looking ghastly and come out looking like a supermodel, or so you're led to believe. I seem to remember these being all the rage back in the unforgiving 80's where ugly ducklings could go for the 'Cover Girl' experience and have their photos taken through a heavily vaselined lens with a feather boa draped seductively over a naked shoulder.

So the prints came back  today and even if I do say so myself , the girl scrubbed up OK ! So that's husband's Christmas prezzie sorted.

Tuesday 8 December 2009

It's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas ...

... not in the festive / baking mince pies / hanging holly from the rafters / writing fond sentiments in Christmas cards by the fireside kind of way .... more like the .....' for goodness sake do I have to do everything round here ' kind of way.

I'd forgotten that when men get home from work they clock off . Whereas when women get home from work , their night shift is just beginning - cooking dinner, helping with homework, fitting rugby studs to football boots , washing sports kit ... you get the picture. Add Christmas into the picture and it all turns ugly.

My husband is downstairs fiddling around with some  classic sports car website whilst I'm upstairs emailing my son's teacher about some crisis, writing up today's teaching assignment notes, arranging cover for eldest son who'll get home to an empty house tomorrow evening because I'll be on the M3 ( again) in the rain schlepping down to youngest son's carol concert, ordering groceries online as the fridge is empty and the fridge fairy hasn't visited in a long while, sorting out his Dad's Christmas present and making a list of what to hunt for in the lost property box at school , having just climbed down from the loft with armfuls of lights and decorations because it doesn't look like anyone else is going to bother.  Usual stuff .

And don't even start me on the rest of Christmas . Husband's annual contribution to Christmas day amounts to ... well turning up basically , oh and accepting thanks for the myriad presents he hasn't had to choose / buy / wrap.

Something always happens between my early December mantra of  ' Keep it Simple ' and my mid December panic of  ' OMG - only x days until the children break up from school ' that catches me out every year. Just when I think I've got the minefield of what to get teachers sorted and offloaded the guilt of not sending any cards, someone bowls a curved ball that usually involves an impossible schedule , some kind of pre-Christmas virus and a parking ticket . Combine that with losing my credit card ( hasn't happened yet but it's only a matter of time ) , husband's endless list of Christmas drinks parties ( that invariably involve him having to get up to town by 6pm thereby rendering him permanently unavailable for school concert attendance ) and transforming the house from a tip into Santa's grotto overnight and is it any wonder that most of us are reduced to the odd Bah Humbug ?

No wonder my own Mother's favourite day of the year was Boxing Day . I never understood this as a child but as a parent it now makes perfect sense.