Christmas is coming and certain people are very organised about it. NB it’s not me.
Daughter three has compiled a list with pictures, web addresses, details of discounts and with items colour-coded for desirability. Not only that, she has done the same for only son. Only son’s list includes a fidget spinner, a book, a Macbook Air, Nintendo Switch, Xbox One and an iPhone plus, for good measure, a 50 pound note. “I know I’m probably only going to get the fidget spinner and the book,” he said lugubriously the other day. I suggested he look at competitions to win technology stuff.
I’ve been lurching from one cold virus to another, as is the norm at this time of year so I haven’t really begun thinking Christmas, apart from getting advent calendars and digging out last year’s unused Christmas cards. I expect the whole thing to go into meltdown at school by early next week. The Christmas bazaar is on Friday and it’s Christmas jumper day/bring a bottle today.
Every year things seem to go faster. I don’t like a last-minute rush as I budget for cold viruses and other unfortunate events. This is also my approach to taking holidays. I store them up in case of emergencies. Apparently this is the norm. I was speaking to someone in HR the other day who said it was the parents who were often the ones not to take all their annual leave. If you’ve been through a family bout of norovirus, you want to make contingency plans.
This weekend was devoted to Christmas decorations. Daughter three had volunteered me to cut down a xmas tree due to the apparent fun we had last year doing the same. This would have been good if she participated in the sawing activity, but my recollection was that it was very much a one-woman task with daughter three merely providing an emotional support function. Also we had to get a tractor back to the car and, while daughter three was sitting in the cab nice and safe, her mother was hanging off the side as it wove its way up the winding path to the car park.
The main thing I am looking forward to is the period after Christmas when it goes fairly quiet and you can just watch films for hours on end. I’ve told only son he should send his list to Santa, but I think he has given up on Santa. “He never gets me anything except socks and pants,” he said. “And gloves,” I added.
*Mum on the run is Mandy Garner, editor of workingmums.co.uk.