Tag Archives: Christmas

I am Stupid Christmas Cards Mum

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​Oh it’s time for Grapes…
Tonight, S-Mum did something really stupid…

Like, REEEEEEALLY fecking stupid!
“Would you like to write your Christmas Cards Mini-Me Dearest?”
I bought the cute little packet of cards weeks ago, thinking it would be so cute to let her write the cute little cards and give them to her cute little frineds.  And the first few cards were indeed cute.
After No. 4, she got bored.
By No.6, her writing had gone from “impressive” to “WTF?” 
By No.9., she’d decided she no longer needed the word “from”.
No.10 required 3 attempts because she feel out with the letter K and defaced each card in utter frustration.
Trying to write her teacher’s full name caused utter MELTDOWN at No.11 as it wouldn’t fit on the card width and so she now has the last 3 letters vertically down the side… (My eyes are bleeding… but there was more chance of Santa leaving Mammy a Chanel Handbag than there was starting THAT again!)
We eventually made it to No. 20something and she is now away to bed, only DELIGHTED with herself. 😅The cards are packed in her bag, ready for her to forget to give out tomorrow…
Mammy learned a few things also.😈

These are:
1. I don’t know how to spell some names.

2. Some Mums may be offended at how I think their Minion’s name is actually written.

3. I know we have forgotten at least 6 names, given that there are not the same number of cards as kids in her class, but I am not psychic, nor do I remember names anyway, so I don’t really know how to get around that one.

4. The handwriting genius that I smugly THOUGHT I had here, is NOT ACTUALLY a Handwriting Genius.  In fact, as I opened some of the cards from her classmates this past week, my inner Soccer Mom was beginning to bubble and boil in a fucked up combination of jealousy and annoyance… “Why is her writing so neat? This one looks like one of my 5th years wrote it? Wtf is wrong with my Mini-Me?” Her lovely, and I thought accomplished, scrawl that I’ve proudly shown to Grannies and Aunties and anyone else who stands in front of me, in some cases looks like the signature of a shitfaced orangutan beside the BEAUTIFUL script of Miss Annabelle* or Master Simon*…(obviously I’m changing the names here!😂)

5. I need to work on her handwriting.

6. I should really get a list of the class names from somewhere.

7. Some children have better handwriting than my daughter.

8. But I bet their Mums spent 3 weeks drafting and redrafting their cards with them.

9. Or maybe, the mums actually WROTE the cards, just making them look a bit messy ajd childlike to pass them off as the handwriting of their minion to make other Mums like me freak the fuck out.

10. It’s time for wine. 🍷🍷


How was your Chooseday?

Did you choose red or white? 😚😚😚

I am Some rules I’d make Mum 😅

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​If I were Queen of the whole world (as opposed ro my own little corner), there are a few things I would change about Christmas…
1. Christmas on a weekend is a bit shit.  Why? Because for so many, it will come and go just like an ordinary bank holiday weekend.  Christmas needs to be on a Wednesday or some other such midweekday so that both the before and after working weeks are ridiculously short allowing everyone to get excited and bouncy and Christmassy from the Sunday before because it’s only a 2 day week and then it’s holiday time!

Because it’s a Sunday, we’re all trudging along this week asking “Are we there yet?” Most people will finish work on Friday evening and suddenly fricken Christmas Eve will be upon us faster than a baby’s poonami hits a clean nappy.
2. Only good drivers should be allowed on the road from the 21st until the 24th.  Because Christmas Eve this year is suddenly “Saturdayed”, the last minute panic (and for some, ALL their shopping) will have to be done on Saturday.  This would not be a huge problem if everyone knew how to DRIVE.  The town will inevitably stand still with non-moving cars and the special Dumbasses who the Grinch or some other Gremlin sends down from Dumbass Land, and who ONLY come out to drive on Christmas Eve and who test the patience of EVERYONE else by not using INDICATORS or knowing what a fucking YELLOW BOX is.  They are not even real people.  I think they’re like Matrix people who we can all SEE blocking the roundabout or taking 2 hours to reverse their corsa into two spaces, but they’re not ACTUALLY real… they can’t be.  That level of Dumbass doesn’t exist does it?


3. The shops should all close at 3pm on Christmas Eve.  Why? So that the creturs working in them get to GO HOME to their families of course! Be nice to retailers Ladybelles.  You might be stressed, but they’re still working. When I am queen, the whole world shall shut down early and Christmas shall be forced to begin at a decent hour.
4. Anyone who parks in a disabled spot or a parent spot without good reason or genuine need, should be zapped by a glitterfying lazer and beamed to a 1980s Tellybox set like in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, where they shall have to stay until Boxing Day.  Better still, their CAR shoould be zapped away from them as they lock it so they can see just how fucking difficult it is to suddenly have an unnecessarily long distance to navigate a wheelchair or crutches or 3 screaming kids and 10 bags, just because they think they’re more special than the rest of the world.  Pricks. (Note…this applies all year round. 🤐)
5. Children and Hims should not be allowed to get sick before or during Christmas.  It’s hugely unfair on the Mamma Bears who are already trying to fit ALL THE EVERYTHING into their lunchbreaks and do the full grocery shopping in 8 minutes flat enroute to the school gate.  It is highly inconvenient and terribly upsetting when your minions suddenly feel poop at this time.  Of course it could always be worse… especially if your Him decides to do his annual Nutcracker rendition and act out the part of the useless and slightly tragic wooden soldier who needs something fucking magical to instill life and joy into his bones again.  Of course I’m not referring to my own Him here.  😇He is a Braveheartesque soldier at all times😲😲 and never succumbs to manflu or calls for his Mammy when his Her tells him to “man the fuck up.”
6. Cars will have a secret “other” boot.  This will stop the drama of “How the feck will I get the stuff that isn’t really there and can never be seen by little eyes into the house before they decide to open the boot to throw their schoolbags in?” Such a debachle!
7. All Mammies will be allowed to drink tea or grapes or gin as early as they like from the 20th.  Sorry…the 19th 😂😂 until at LEAST January 3rd.  This shall be law.

Oh and everyone shall smile always, and wear big hats (which will ALL be made XL to fit humongously craniumed wenches like S-Mum) and we shall all be lovely to each other and sparkle like glittery unicorns because tis the fricken season and all that.
How was your day?

Are we there yet? 🎄🎅🦄🎄🍷🎅🎄🦄🍷🎅🎄❄⛄🎄🎅🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

​I am Survival List Mum

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“Surviving Christmas,” “Christmas Survival Tips for the Working Mum”, “How to Survive Christmas”…

I googled this last night.

Some of the “advice” online is nothing short of HILARIOUS.  I fear most of it may have been written by one of the following:

🎄Mary of the Poppins herself

🎄Someone without kids

🎄A Man… 😂😂😂
Here are some of the best pieces I gleaned, followed by my honest and polite response: Buckle up Bitcheepoos…😙😉
1.  “Be Prepared.”

No shit Sherlock.  As opposed to waking on Christmas Eve and remembering to buy a turkey and gifts? Seriously…
2. “Buy gifts throughout the year and wrap them as you go.”

Now this one I can partially agree with, except S-Mum’s would read “Buy gifts throughout the year, put them somewhere safe and then forget all about them until the week before Christmas, when you have all the gifts bought and then open a box or bag or suitcase and find all the PawPatrol jigsaws you bought in July.  Or even better, find them when you’re putting the decorations away in January!”
3. “Choose a theme for your gifts to add that personal magic”.

Here’s a theme.  Shut the fuck up.  Most of us just about manage to buy for everyone we have to buy for.  And if you’re anything like me, you’ll remember someone on Christmas Day and freak out with guilt and embarrassment and mumble some crap about it not being delivered on time before popping to the loo to order on Amazon with next day delivery. (But if you doooooo want to add a personal touch and be remembered fondly by your loved ones, put glitter🦄 into all of the cards and gifts so that their floors get clattered and you are applauded for spreading the magic of Christmas. Go ahead, I dare you! 😂😂)
4. “Place delicate or expensive ornaments on higher branches.”

Ok this one, I can empathise with.  Especially if you have toddlers or dogs. 🐶But in reality, put delicate or expensive decorations in the ATTIC and leave them there until 2023.
5. “Ice the Christmas Cake 2 weeks before Christmas”

Or in real life, remember on the 23rd that for some reason you need a Christmas cake and either pop to M&Spensive or decide not to bother with cake this year. Either way, it doesn’t really matter does it?
6. “Decorating the home should be a family occasion followed by a family meal.”

Oh really? Should it really? If by “family meal” you mean a bottle of wine after the kids have all gone to bed, then yes…yes this is true. 😅 Decorating the home is, for most, a painful and highly stressful process which generally takes more than one afternoon and involves tears, mess and even declarations of divorcing children and husbands.  If you can get the actua tree up in one go, save yourself the stress and put everything else up by yourself, on your own, without the rest of the family annoying your head.  After bedtime is ideal.😘😉
7. “Keep alcohol locked away.”

Out of the reach of children yes, but keep the key in your frilly fecking apron.
8. “Stock up on essentials:  batteries, bread, milk and cream.”

Why there is no gin or wine on this list, is beyond me.
9. “Go Christmas Shopping without children. Bring a drink and a snack with you.”

Who the hell wrote this?  If you can get someone to mind the minions for an hour, OF COURSE, go Christmas shopping without them. Have a gin and eat chocolate.
10. “Create a cleaning schedule for your home to keep on top of things this Christmas”.

There aren’t enough swear words for this one. A Cleaning Schedule? Who the hell has time to write a cleaning schedule? In the time it would take me to write a cleaning schedule, I would probably have half the cleaning done.  If you can keep floors lego free and counters salmonella free, you’re doing great! You deserve a treat. 💚
There were a few little nuggets in fairness.  Some of the better advice included “Scale down your expectations”, “Invent your own traditions”, and “Give yourself a break.”

Another gem that I completely agree with is “Buy disposable baking trays”: I stock up on aluminium turkey trays every year and everything is cooked in them.  It’s a life saver!


The lists and articles largely did what they always do however; put undue pressure on already busy parents to stress themselves to create a picture perfect Christmas card-esque scene that in reality, is nonsense.

Do what YOU want to do.  Buy what YOU can afford.  Cook what YOU like to eat. If you don’t like mince pies, don’t fricken buy them. If you want to let your kids open all of the presents on Christmas morning, do it!  If you like to wrap all the everything, do so.  If you don’t, DON’T!

It’s that simple.  We don’t need a survival list to survive Christmas, we need to give ourselves a break and enjoy it, because if you take a second to stop and look around you, often in the midst of lost presents and superfluous food shopping, you can see a little bit of magic without having to buy it.
What is your favourite “Survival tip” and why?

I am Suddenly Reminded Mum

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Sometimes we need reminded that our Little Ones are indeed only little.

When Princess was born a few weeks ago, Mini Me seemed to grow up overnight.  She suddenly got taller and turned from a toddler into a little girl.  I’ve been watching her in awe since I returned home from hospital.  I’m not quite sure how it happened, but she is quite the little independent woman.

Having a newborn on my knee, I find myself wondering how it’s possible that the most advanced species on the planet can give birth to the most helpless offspring.

im-only-a-baby

A baby calf gets up to walk within moments of being born, but our little pink and squishy babies remain completely dependent on us for years.  It’s quite amazing.  And still, the nicest feeling in the world is knowing that your baby needs nothing but you to survive.  The frightening thing is that without you, she can’t.

We give our babies everything that they need.  We help them to grow.  We don’t get a handbook.  We make it up as we go along and shockingly, we generally do a good job.  As I look at Mini-me in all her “almost fourness”, I am proud of how she’s developing.  She’s stroppy and strong-willed, but sweet and sensitive. She’s clever and funny and ever so dramatic. (Not sure where she gets the drama!) I have a little girl, who has a little curl etc.  She’s so grown up, and then she isn’t.

Because she understands every word we say and because she’s able to articulate her thoughts well, we’ve made the mistake of assuming that she fully understands the world around her.

She doesn’t.

As tall and “grown up” as she suddenly seems, on Sunday past I was Suddenly Reminded that she is still only a baby.  She doesn’t understand the things that we assume her to.  She’s finding her way through a terrifying world (aren’t we all?) and she still needs Mammy and Daddy to guide her in every step.

And the dramatic and sudden reminder?

We went to see Santa Claus.

Mini-Me and her new sister were dressed in their pretty Christmas dresses and we were all suitably excited.  It’s the first year that she is really enjoying the build up to Christmas and she was excited to bring the new baby to meet the Big Man.  We stood in the queue.  We met Santa.  They got their picture taken and she got a present.

And then, we all went for coffee.

As we were relaxing, the Big brother took the little horse set out of the box for her to play with.  We were chattering among ourselves, when suddenly she began to cry.  Asking her what was possibly wrong, she announced through her sobs “Santa didn’t listen.  I asked for baby Annabelle!” and the quiet sobs turned to a wail.

Well, we didn’t know what to do.  We looked at each other with disbelief and the sudden realisation that our big grown-up girl was genuinely upset.  And as I looked at her devastated little face, the baby returned in front of my eyes.  She was suddenly three again.  Not the “Big Sister” or the “Big girl” that we’ve been calling her since Baby arrived.

Just my Mini-me Threenager…and she was heartbroken.

She thought that that was it;  that Santa had been and that Christmas was over.  She didn’t understand that this was simply a pre-Christmas, traditional treat.

Why?

Because we never thought to explain it to her.

santa

While we had been talking about going to see Santa, she thought that this was the Santa who comes in the night and leaves presents.  She thought that this was it.  And as we were obliviously sipping our coffees, she was experiencing a massive first… true disappointment.

Daddy swiftly lifted her onto his knee for a hug and wiped the big tears dripping down her chubby cheeks.  We all leapt into action, laughing and calmly explaining that Santa had simply brought her a treat today and that it isn’t Christmas yet.  We went back to basics, explaining the whole concept of Christmas: about Baby Jesus coming, about her aunties and uncles coming home, about hanging up the stockings and about waking up on Christmas morning; any possible benchmarks that will help her to recognise actual Christmas.

We threw all the cliched lines at her.  “If you’re good, Santa will…”  “It’s Christmas time, but it’s not Christmas Day yet.”  “9 more sleeps…” etc.  And happily, she calmed down and returned to playing with the horses.

Crisis averted, but lesson learned.

People had warned us that when the new baby arrived, she would suddenly seem so big and so grown-up.  And they were right.

But what we had to learn for ourselves is that big and all as she seems, she’s still only a little child.  We may have begun to expect too much from her.  Yes, the baby is vulnerable and totally dependent on us, but just because Mini-Me can dress herself, it doesn’t mean that she isn’t also vulnerable and dependent.

And so, with both Mammy and Daddy feeling suitably guilty and slightly foolish, we finished our coffee and directed our wee family back through the craziness of the Christmas shoppers towards the car.

Mini-me had learned something, but the biggest lesson was learned by her Grown-ups.

I am Suddenly Reminded Mum.

little