I like Christmas. Really I do.  Honest. In the 90's I even put tinsel in my hair and snogged an elf. 

It's just when you're grown ups, parents, Christmas becomes a responsibility. Oh the pressure.

And oh how actual Christmas differs from the Rose tinted, Pinterest featured one you envisaged.

Shopping

In my head snow is falling,  rosy cheeked children are misting up Georgian shop windows with tiny hands in fluffy hand muffs. Everything is beautiful and smiles are everywhere.

In reality there's not enough prozac to make me leave the house. It's Pissing it down and pitch black. The Spawn rewrite their lists everyday.    I hand over our pennies electronically only to find the very next day after dispatch, the bastard's publish a huge juicy discount code.  Then comes the let's chase the couriers game as despite you staring at your door all day they swear they attempted delivery.

Then there's the conundrum of where to stash it all.  You have no storage.  Zero.  Zilch.  Nada. You were going to pile it up in the attic yet Roland The Bionic Rat is squatting up there and refusing to die despite having nommed several sachets of professional-die-rat-die poison up there.

Tree

Erecting (oh behave!) the tree should be a momentous occasion to cherish.  In my head we bundle up with hats and scarves all full of giggles and red nosed from the cold.  We playfully argue over which real tree we want and bring one home that's vibrant and huge.  We dance around a fairy light lit living room with an open fire to Christmas songs as we adorn it with antique baubles and strings of popcorn.

In reality everyone scarpers at the mere mention of digging a path through the shit hole of a front room to make some space.  The air is blue from The Husband's profanity at the injustice of having to get everything out the loft as the kids form a conveyor belt down the stairs with home bargains carrier bags of stuff.

The tree is fake.  And wonky. And the metal arms just poked me. ... In the eye.

Then the lights come out in a tangled mass of nightmare and suddenly everyone needs to shit so they can avoid untangling them.  Which is futile.  Especially as none of the buggers actually work anymore.

The Spawn lose interest after five minutes of hanging baubles on.  They're all on wrong and you're counting down the minutes until they go to bed so you can rearrange it.   They've already siphoned away half the candy canes into their mouths and the bloody cats are playing football with the pine cones you glittered last year. 

Baby is screaming for a feed.  The Spawn are having sword fights with pieces of the tree.  There's still 40 baubles from the poundshop that have lost their string waiting to go on the tree and The Husband is glowering from the kitchen hissing 'bah humbug' under his breath.

Decorations

In my head it's quaint and kitsch and adorable.  The room is lovingly festooned with rustic and antique simple beauties.

In reality The Husband is balanced precariously on The Dude's fire station (that is covered in Moshi Monsters stickers and home to astronauts) barking 'PIN! ' every few seconds at the quivering Spawn.  The room looks like a Drag Queens handbag has vomited and the balloon clusters look like one bollocked willies. 

Wrapping

In my head I'm sat in front of an open fire with a glass of wine and an old movie as I leisurely and lovingly wrap perfectly coordinated presents with brown paper and tasteful paper accents,  trimmed with string and Christmas ribbon as I hand stamp labels with sleighs and North Pole post marks.

In reality I can't find the bastard scissors.  The Spawn won't go to sleep.  Baby wants feeding.  The cat's are having a bitch fight in every box and sitting on the rolls of cheap paper that rip before I can apply cellotape.   I'm t-total (yes, really) so downing vimto like it's vodka with the TV on mute so I can hear about lost blankets and itchy eyes and every other excuse as to why The Spawn won't go the fuck to sleep before they descend the stairs and see what I'm trying to do.

The Husband is smugly relating how much he hates wrapping presents before he bogs off into the kitchen to listen to black metal music and drink wine. .. ALONE.

I'm running out of hands and patience.  I've forgot my Zoloft and keep getting distracted by day dreaming of homicide.   There's no room to stack anything and baby shits. Again. 

Christmas Day

We awake to the aroma of Turkey roasting.  The Husband and I embrace lovingly under the mistletoe. Children in immaculate pyjamas gather around the tree handing out presents one by one with gasps of glee. They then play board games until the feast is served.

In reality The Husband rolls of the sofa mumbling five more minutes as The Spawn chomp at the bit upstairs trying their hardest to wake the baby in the most obnoxiously loud way possible not knowing that the baby woke up HOURS ago, filled eight nappies and drunk me dry of milk and has only just gone the fuck back to sleep.

The Dude will be naked and dancing whilst Things One and Two are in mismatched pj's.  They swear they've brushed their teeth yet when they open their mouths to talk the cats pass out from their morning breath.

Once downstairs it's every man for themselves. It's like black Friday in Tesco only more violent.  The Husband is screaming 'PUT THE RUBBISH IN A BAG' repeatedly.   I remember the turkey isn't in the oven yet and am banished to the kitchen for the day whilst The Spawn harass The Grinch to battle with the packaging of their toys.  After much swearing he asks for his saw. 

But hey.  Ho Ho Ho.  IT'S CHRISTMAS! !!!!

Where's the valium?

Family traditions at Christmas

There's something about being a parent that makes you want to create memories to Cherish.  You want your spawn to grow up with fond recollections of what you did and to see them carry it on.  Traditions.  You want to make traditions.

The problem with traditions however is that you have to commit to them, like the pig did to a cooked breakfast. 

Think about it.  Every year.

When I was a kid my parents never went hugely festive.  Sure we had the tree etc but other than three things everything else was more rules than tradition such as no going into the lounge until everyone is awake and no opening presents until the dog had been let out in the garden to pee and a tea tray was ready.   When we were all older The Mother tried to replace the every man for himself with an elongated process of taking turns to open one present at a time.  Now I'm a parent I totally understand the wanting to see everything part but as a child ... who wants to watch everyone else let alone have everyone bog at you every time you own something forcing you to display over exaggerated expressions of gratitude for socks.

So let's talk about some of the traditions I've come across, we're not talking cultural ones we're just talking common popular, well known ones.   Before I get stuck in,  I'm not dissing them per se, I just can't relate to them.  So wind your necks in,  If it works for you.... I'm glad, possibly even envious.  I never said I wasn't a Grinch.

Pyjamas

I won't even pretend to understand the relevance of new PJ'S on Christmas Eve.  Apparently it's a 'thing'. A very popular thing even.  To me however it's just alien.

Stocking

I've never in my life had a Christmas stocking.  Ever.  Neither have The Spawn. In fact I think if they found some new underwear, chocolate coins and a toothbrush in the bottom of a giant Xmas sock their 'WTF?!' Reaction would be warranted. 

Elf on a shelf

The creepy little fucker that gets up to all kinds of stuff that if your kids ever did they'd get bollocked for whilst the parents Facebook all the scenes they spent their evening setting up to try and out-elf all the other parents on the Internet and win the precocious Pinterest crown.  The elf then pisses off back home on Christmas Eve. 

Ok so I admit.  The Dude would possibly find this hilarious.  Maybe.  But think about it... That's 24 different stunts or pranks every December for years. I'd end up hanging it with a noose.

Not to mention it's another little sod you have to clean up after. 

Christmas Eve boxes

A lovely idea.  No, really.  I'm not even being sarcastic here.  Seriously. 

If you have one child.

Or a fat wallet.

I was going to do one this year but I'd either have to replicate everything four times or else endure a real life Hunger Games as The Spawn battle it out.

Gifts for teachers

Just no. They get paid. Plus it's never just 'a' teacher these days.  It's three part timers and leagues of Teaching Assistants. Not to mention the Dinner Ladies, caretaker and office staff.  We're skint and I'm scrooge. Bite me.

Gingerbread houses.

There isn't enough gin or prozac in the world to make me endure the masochistic task of attempting this with The Spawn and the ones you buy and assemble taste like shit.

So what do we do tradition wise here? !

Santa Snacks

Who doesn't?  No wonder he's obese.  Surely leaving out a snack and drink for Mr C and a carrot for Rudolph is the law?

Christmas Lanterns

Two years ago The Spawn decorated some jam jars with tissue paper and glue.  We put a tea light (which my phone just tried to auto correct to Taliban... How absurd,  they wouldn't fit) in them.  We leave these next to the santa snack to glow and guide him to our home.

Pillowcases

As a kid we left Pillowcases out in our room and Santa would collect them,  fill them with presents and leave them in the lounge.   I have The Spawn do the same.

Reindeer food

I'd never heard of this until the inlaws bought The Spawn some from a charity shop a few years ago.  Every year since I fill bags with oats and glitter and the kids sprinkle out the front door (and all over the bastard carpet.  Gits. )

End of bed present

When I was a child, every year,  Santa would leave us a present on the end of our beds which The Parents geniusly named 'The End Of Bed Present'  catchy isn't it?  It was usually an annual.  The reason behind it was to keep us occupied (aka quiet) until everyone was awake and we were allowed downstairs.  This is something we've carried on with a The Spawn.

Chocolate Fingers

As a child, we always scoffed chocolate fingers for breakfast as we opened presents.   Whenever I remember I buy them too for Christmas morning.

Tree presents

Another from my childhood.  Every year my mum would buy us all a small gift which went on the tree. They'd stay there until New Years Day when they'd be placed next to our cutlery and a Christmas cracker at the dinner table.  Sure enough there's currently 5 presents (I don't bother getting myself one) on our tree.

There's so many cute ideas out there such as sooty/snowy footprints but like I said,  It's the commitmaent thing (and the mess)

I always thought I'd let each spawn choose a new Christmas bauble each year yet I never seemed to have the money at the right time and after the first year of parenthood passed it seemed daft to implement it randomly. 

What are your Christmas Traditions?  Did you create them yourself or are they from your own childhood? Are there any you regret starting or any you wish you had started?

Being Santa...

Thing One is on the cusp of not believing.  Moomin hasn't even found her own toes yet let alone a belief in Santa.  The Dude has only just learned to write his name.  Thing Two however, loves to write.  This is the second year she's written to Santa.  Last year he didn't reply, I think if that happened again this year the sadness would be palpable.

So, with a Moomin asleep on one of my arms I've typed a reply, one handed.  Lets hope she likes it...

Dearest [Thing Two],

I have just received your letter, what beautiful writing you have!  I bet your parents are very proud, I know myself and Mrs Claus are very impressed.  The Elves have told me that you’ve been a very good girl this year that’s worked hard at school and at home, keep up the good work as it makes me very happy to know I can trust you to behave even when others aren’t being as nice as they should.  You really should keep your room tidier though, I don’t want to trip up when I visit!

I’m glad you liked the gifts I left for you last year, I can only bring so much and yet I see so many things I think you’d like so it’s very hard to choose what to give to you. 

Where do I really live?  This is both an easy and a difficult question to answer, Princess.  I live at the North Pole yet often my village is cloaked in magic that can make it impossible for mortals to find.  I know it sounds mean but it’s necessary to ensure the safety of myself, The Elves and our reindeers

Do I go to shops for presents?  Not exactly, often it is my elves that help design the toys that you see in the shops.  Sometimes if there is a very specific toy a child has requested we may send an undercover Elf to procure it.  The Elves have many jobs, some are very highly skilled in the art of subterfuge and have the ability to appear as humans to help me, be it to help me see who’s on the good list or to help get presents from places you may know.  They’re everywhere which is why it’s so important children behave for who knows but their teacher, friend, doctor or even shop keeper may just be one of them.  Sometimes, especially now the world has so many children in it,I will ask the grownups to help me.  Often you’ll see boxes and parcels in your home that they get for me to collect, others my elves deliver so grownups can help wrap them.  Elves don’t breed as easily as grownups so as more and more children are born we require more and more help.  Mums and Dads are a great help to us.

Am I related to anyone?  I have my wife Mrs Claus yet as Father Christmas I see all children as my children and love you all dearly. I've existed under different names for longer than time itself and as thousands of years have passed I find I remember very little of my origins before the mantle of Santa Claus was bestowed upon me, only that as long as there is belief in the world, I exist so please keep believing!

It has been lovely writing to you yet the reindeer are giving the elves a hard time, it would appear they really do detest being bathed!  They’re being awfully naughty about it so I must intervene!  Also Mrs Claus needs me to try on my suit, it needs some repairs before Christmas Eve .

Keep up the good behaviour.  We’re very proud of you here at the North Pole.  We enjoy hearing you sing in the school choir and watching you play with your brothers and new baby sister.

Don’t forget to go to sleep nice and early Christmas Eve and leave your pillowcase out for me to fill.  I’m relying on you to ensure that [Thing One] and [The Dude] do the same.  I know I  can trust you to help them behave.

With Love & Magic,

***If the header/footer images are yours and you'd like them crediting or deleting please do get in touch so I can do this for you.

Portable North Pole: Review and promo code

We're officially on single digit countdown to Christmas now, the tree is up and the living room looks like the exploded contents of a drag queens handbag.  Wrapping is 85% done and present shopping is 99% done, just down to that nail biting game of 'will the last few presents be delivered in time'  I dutifully made cheats fudge for the school fair and made white clay tree decorations, twice, with The Dude and Thing Two.

Then they reminded me with the inevitable question 'Where's our videos from Santa?' that I'd yet to do this years Portable North Pole videos! Whoops!  With nosy spawn that appear allergic to going to bed and a boob junkie Moomin it's hard to get the time to discreetly do such things this year, unless I use my Android phone that is!

Every year I utilise the free PNP personalised video service to make videos for each of The Spawn, much to their delight.  I like to keep their real names etc off the blog so I'll show you the PNP example video:




Each year I've watched The Spawn's faces light up with awe,

With the classic option you get 3 minutes of video featuring two photo's you've uploaded and personalised information such as being addressed by name, their age, what they do etc.

This is a great option if you only have one child, however, if like us you have a small army of spawn we have to let them watch their videos in secret individually so that they don't get suspicious with the same story line repeated!

For just £2.99 you can upgrade to a premium video:

 

With the premium option you get a choice of 3 different scenes, 5 photo uploads and five minutes of video.

Another amusing feature is the ability to create a free video for an adult in your life, The Spawn are always ridiculously amused at watching Santa tell The Husband to listen to his Wife more and warning him about his temper!

However, it gets even better as PNP also have personalised phone calls, something we'd not experienced before until PNP kindly asked us to review.  Can you imagine being a child and getting a personal phone call from Santa?  I sent the first call to Thing One, at 10 years old logic tells him Santa doesn't exist yet he's still just young enough to suspend suspicion because he essentially wants to believe.  It's pretty hard to dispute his existence when you get a personal call from the man himself, via a North Pole Reception Elf of course.  Like the videos these are quick and easy to set up and generally the call will be made 4-14 minutes after you request it.  You get a 1 minute call and a choice of 3 storylines.  These are priced at £2.99 for one call or £3.99 for three calls.

Thing Two was off school today poorly so Santa gave her a call, her smile was priceless!  Awesome behaviour is so much more official when praise comes from the big man himself.

I'll put my hands up and say I am guilty of using the 'threat' of telling Santa if they're being repeatedly vile so it's especially handy that now they know he can call them back.

With the videos you get to choose something the child could improve on.  We tell The Dude to be on nice to Thing One and it falls on deaf ears yet Santa requests it and poor Thing One is now being full body tackled with violently enthusiastic cuddles and kisses (in-between the head buts and shouting at him)

You also get to select whether the child is on the nice list or naughty list.  I'll be the first to admit The Spawn can be absolute cretins yet even diabolical me can't quite bring myself to put them on the naughty list. I just can't bring myself to do it.  However this year there is also a nifty compromise of the nearly nice list which offers positive encouragement and belief in a child's ability to improve without chastisement or disappointment.

Now down to the nitty gritty...

Pros:

* Very user friendly interface making it quick and easy to do.
* Free app available for your phone.
* Offers both free and premium packages.
* The videos are funny and charming.
* The multiple opportunities to personalise it make it magical for children
* If you like to big up the creepy idea that Big ol' judgmental Mr C is 'watching' and see's everything, mentioning things like performances and birthdays with picture evidence is brilliant.
* Santa successfully manages to come across benign and endearing.  Realistic without being creepy.
* On the premium videos, you can enter their siblings names so when their book is retrieved from the shelf you see their siblings books next to them! It's small attention to detail like this that really does nurture the magic
* Calls can be sent to landlines or mobiles, handy if you're out or to provide some magic in your absence.  Santa can call them at grandparents or the child minders etc!

Cons:

* If you have more than one child the free option may not be for you.
* Not all names will be spoken and will only appear written.  I won't lie, Thing Two always looks a disappointed when she's referred to as 'My friend' or some other endearment as there is no included pronunciation of her name yet Thing One & The Dude are always addressed by name.  This is both on the videos and the calls.  She sees her name printed on 'her book' yet he never says it to her.
* You have to pay extra to be able to download and save your videos, even if you've paid for premium ones.
* Santa sounds a bit like Pooh Bear...

One more thing, If you have more then one child yet want a premium video or multiple calls it may feel like an expensive do.  We all know the scenario, it's like downloading a free app and being able to do something cool yet every time you want to do something even cooler it asks you for money. More money and money again.  Urgh.

There is however, in my opinion, a reasonable solution in the instance of PNP.  For just £7.99 you get the 'Unlimited Holiday Pass' providing access to unlimited premium videos (including a Christmas Eve one from the sleigh!) and unlimited calls (including an update on Christmas Eve and from the sleigh)


This means all The Spawn get their own calls and videos that are personalised and different to each other.  If you only have one child in your life it's an affordable way to fully experience everything PNP has to offer throughout the build up to Christmas with only one payment.  Especially with the calls encourages spontaneity to inflict magic on your kids.

With four children a lot of festive activities are simply out of our budget, even a Christmas Eve hamper for four is expensive when you need four of everything, yet with this they all get a bit of magic and childhood memories.  The window of belief is so small in years, I love to make the most of it whilst they're young enough to believe.  We're not the most festive of parents but this entails minimum effort yet the result has a big impact.

The lovely people of PNP have given me a discount code to share with you, enter the promo code BLG20BKP to get 20% off all digital purchases (excluding in app purchases)


***Disclaimer: PNP have provided me with an Unlimited Holiday Pass for the purpose of this review.  All opinions are my own.

Bah Humbug!

As a family we're not ones for traditions as such, especially Christmas ones probably due to our cynical and hermetic nature.  We don't have any accessible family or friends so parties and gatherings to commiserate celebrate the festivities aren't an option, which is probably for the best seeing as we lack the party gene.

The whole Santa shebang is proving somewhat interesting seeing as Thing One is incredibly unconvinced he exists, despite rather hoping he does, whilst being awfully crap at keeping his opinion to himself.  On the other hand if you so much as hint at relaying any questionable behaviour to Santa, The Toddler turns on the full waterworks.  Then there's the random Santa's dotted around that The Spawn have deduced that they're all fake cue a rather complex explanation from us about how there are so many children in the world and Santa is so incredibly busy that he couldn''t possibly be everywhere at once and prepare for Christmas Eve so he hires special helpers to help with his appearances, yet they're indeed sanctioned by Santa and carry his blessing. Phew.

Then there's the terribly virulent Elf on a Shelf fad that seems to be sweeping across the festive period.   The idea appears to be a toy elf that arrived at your house for advent and comes alive at night when everyone is asleep, basically being a naughty little shit.  I admit I struggle grasping the logic behind this, parents spend the entire of December instilling the necessity of good behaviour into their Spawn for Santa yet Santa sends them this little cretin who gets up to all kinds of bollocks and their bad behaviour is supposed to be funny and quaint? Oh the hypocrisy and mixed messages.  It also appears to have kick started a competitive streak among parents seeing who can pin the most creatively naughty antics their elf (yes theirs, not really the children's elf at all, admit it)   Besides any temptation that may have attempted to bewitch me into participating would be a dead duck seeing as the cynical spawn wouldn't buy the whole coming to life at night thing for a second.

I'm rather enchanted with the idea of Christmas Eve pajamas yet also a tad bemused, surely they'd be better being given at the beginning of December?  I'll readily admit to genuinely not understanding the whole Christmas themed brand new pj's .... the night before Christmas?

So what are our traditions?

* On Christmas eve for tea, we have a takeaway.  Preferably an Indian.  The children love it and it makes me somewhat less sulky about all the cooking I have to do on Christmas day.

* On Christmas eve we track Santa on the computer, sprinkle reindeer food outside, light our christmas jam-jar lanterns to guide Santa to our home and leave out the prescribed drink and snack for him.

* We don't do stockings, neither did my parents when I was a child.  I've never had the whole satsuma, toothbrush and new undies shenanigans.  Instead, like me and my siblings, The Spawn leave out a pillowcase for Santa to fill with their presents.  They leave it on the end of their bed, Santa brings it downstairs.

* Santa leaves an 'end of bed present'.  Again this is stolen from my own childhood.  It's usually an annual and gives The Spawn something to open when they awaken and will keep them occupied for a while.

* Nobody is allowed downstairs where all the presents are until everyone is awake.

* Again from my childhood, we eat Cadburys chocolate fingers as we open our presents.

* Boxing day dinner is always a miniature Xmas dinner made from leftovers.

* We have 'tree presents', another one from my childhood.  This is one small token gift each that stays on the tree until New Years Day dinner, they will be set on the table with the cutlery and crackers.

That is about as festive as we get.  If you think our Xmas traditions are scarce and scanty you should see our New Years ones...insofar as we don't have any.  We don't celebrate new years eve.

Where do you hide yours?

So you barely survive the actual shopping part of Christmas presents with some remnants of sanity still intact using tactics such as a present for them, a Gin for me etc then you realise, it's not actually Christmas yet, where the hell are you supposed to store all this ...stuff.  If you're lucky you'll have nooks and crannies galore, if however you're like us, you'll be storage challenged.  I don't even have a wardrobe, my clothing being crammed into broken drawers, lolling out of them like a dogs tongue on a summers day.  We have no garage, porch, conservatory nor even a shed.   Arse.  What an inconsiderate house.  The bloody cheek of it, does it not understand our need for storage? There's simply no room at the inn.

I do however have a cupboard (with a broken door) in the main bedroom, which is crammed with paraphernalia of my youth, trinkets, out of season clothing, mountains of books and the like which at a push I can throw some presents in so long as I place the door back in front of it within seconds, or else it'll all fall out, whilst praying to The Gods.  Taking a deep breath whispering the mantra 'on the rocks on the rocks on the rocks' (thinking of Gin obviously, though I suppose it's rather an apt description for my lacking sanity too) I then execute with ninja finesse, the bum swap, that is to say swapping my gluteus maximus for the rocking chair of doom, to hold the door in place.  And breathe.

Jobs a good 'un now for the remaining mountain of presents.  Bumflaps. Had momentarily forgot about those in some mental defense coping mechanism.

There is the cupboard in the kitchen, which is full of junk and is where the coats are kept so it's patently obvious if we stash anything there.  Besides, the chance would be a fine thing, it takes sheer skill to venture in there without instigating a landslide of junk.

Call it what you may be it complete and utter laziness or a stroke of sheer genius but i'll let you into a secret, some of the presents.....we don't hide at all.  Yes, really.  At the bottom of our stairs and next to the front door is a heavily populated yet compact landscape of delivery boxes, in plain site.   the thing is, if you hide things people will look for them, if they're not hidden then they mustn't be terribly interesting or else why would they be so obviously unhidden?  We haven't even opened the boxes yet which adds to the ruse that they're unimportant.  Everybody knows that the first thing you do when an exciting box of something arrives is to open it.

Have The Spawn touched the boxes?  No.  Have they asked about them? No. Are they even slightly interested in them other than the fact they're in the way?  No.  This is the response of The Spawn, three highly skilled, frightfully curious professional sanity assassins.  It's nigh surreal.

The other option, is to hide them quite literally under their noses.  Last year we hid several large presents under Thing One's mid sleeper bed, the fact he never found them is testament to the absolute tip he leaves his room in.  He slept on top of them for weeks, absolutely oblivious.

Oh and lets not mention the stuff we stash in the boiler cupboard, again in Thing One's room.

So where do you hide yours?  Have your kids ever found them?  Do you wrap when you buy or wrap en masse nearer Christmas eve?



“This post is an entry into the Hudl Christmas cheer competition.

The C Lists

Hoorah, two things to strike off the christmas bucket list!

This year whilst making their Christmas lists I gave The Spawn some catalogs, kiddie scissors and glue sticks and let them have at it.  It kept them occupied for ages leaving me free to stuff my face with chocolate and have grown up television channels on. Win.

I then asked Things One & Two to write a letter to Santa Claus, choosing ten things from their copious lists to include within it.  As you can see Thing One got straight to the point whereas Thing Two actually wrote a rather darling letter to him inviting return correspondence.  Arse.

Not one to be left out, I've done my own list too though I fear blowing an elf may be the only way I'll get anything from it....I'm willing to be as nice or indeed as naughty as they wish.  If the elves are too busy to tattoo me, I wonder if I can just give them my PayPal address.....

Christmas 2013 Bucket List

What's on your Christmas Bucket List this year?

15 Christmas Shopping Tips.

It's only Halloween.  It's only Bonfire night.  It's only November.  Arse.  It's November.  That means next month is December and with that comes Christmas.  Oh shitsticks.

Every year I vow that the next year I'll be more organised, yet my slatternly ways always assume there's more time than there actually is until bamf, turkeys, tinsel and presents hit me at 100mph sending my head into a 360 exorcist spin.

I have no pigs, let alone ones with blankets.

More importantly I don't have enough Gin to face Operation Christmas.

It's a minefield of strategic planning.  You can blow a thousand elves, but essentially it's still all down to you.  Especially when The Husband is an atrocious Bah Humbug. Buy the presents, wrap the presents, buy the food, cook the food, decorate the tree, psyche the kids up, keep the magic alive, feed the bloody reindeer etc I'm exhausted just thinking about it.

I have started shopping.  Just.  I have about six small presents bought. Go team me!

If you start too early you end up buying more and more as The Cretins add more and more to their Christmas Lists, you get seduced by the onslaught of offers that just keep appearing and you end up needing to fund an extension to store all the loot in as you've run out of hiding places.  There's that much stuff hidden under the bed The Husband thinks you're hiding a fella under there and you try to make the kids believe your bed has mumps.  Leave it to the last minute and nothing is in stock, anywhere.  You're mentally calculating how much in therapy it will cost you when your sweet spawn turn into emo teens who think melancholy is not getting a robotic fish for Christmas 2013.

Unfortunately, sorry, you have to plan.  I know, I know it leaves a bad taste in my mouth too, it even makes the Gin taste off.

Never fear though, put some sweatpants on, take your bra off/scratch your balls, grab some chocolate, turn the tv on and I'll do some of the hard-work for you because I'm nice like that I have no life  I am an insomniac.

1. Lists are your friend.  Obviously get the children to do lists then from their lists make a list of what you're buying them and what other family members are buying them.  I'm a fan of sending relatives lists as although they may think Mickey's Clubhouse teddy is adorable, your Ben10 mad son may disagree somewhat.  In the age of technology you can make lists on amazon or use thethingsiwant.com which allow you to share them easily and for people to mark what they buy so you can keep track.

2.  Set a budget.  I know it sounds obvious but don't be airy fairy about it, set a figure.  Do it.  Not just in total but per person.

3. The figures you just came up with? add 25% shhh! Just do it.  Now, the catch is you're not allowed to spend this bit until the week before Christmas.  Trust me, you'll get to the week before Christmas and you'll realise there is something you forgot or even someone you forgot.  Maybe you didn't factor in the little bits and bats that make up stocking fillers.  Whatever, you'll be glad of this extra money.  If by some miracle you don;t need it, Bombay Sapphire baby!

4. Be wary of offers and don't fall into The False Economy Trap.  Some will be splendid, others will just entice you into buying crap you don't want or need all for the sake of saving a few quid.  They may be great value, but only if you actually need whatever it is that is 'too good to say no to'.  Otherwise you've spent funds yet have things that aren't on the list.

5. Do your research.  Prices can vary drastically for the same item depending on where you buy.  Shop around.

6. Shop online.  You avoid the crowds, the manic panic of shoppers with Christmas berserker fever in their eyes as they elbow, shove and snatch their way through over crowded stores trampling on anyone that gets in their way as you then have to walk battered and bruised in the cold and dark with bags full of things that play stupid tunes every time you step off a kerb as the bags threaten to break.  Not fun.  Stay at home, have a glass of vino and watch Eastenders whilst you browse online.  You're also more likely to stick to budget, will find it easier to compare prices and find promotions and won't be tempted by shiny displays of 'must have' items that nobody has ever mentioned wanting.

7. Be wary of post and packing costs.  Your £3.99 gift isn't a bargain if it costs £4.99 to have it delivered.  Try and limit how many places you buy from to save on delivery costs.

8. Read reviews first.  You may find that the overpriced all singing all dancing plastic nightmare you bought is actually riddled with faults and will be a huge disappointment.

9. If you're buying something electronic, test it works before you wrap it to avoid disappointment on the big day.

10. Utilise companies such as Quidco and Top Cash Back to not only save money but earn money too as you buy things you were going to buy anyway.

11. Save up loyalty points throughout the year to use at Christmas, it all adds up be it boots points of Tesco vouchers.

12. Before you wrap gifts, make a list of what batteries they take so you can make sure you have batteries for everything ready.  Nothing worse a being a kid who gets a toy they can't play with on Christmas day because they have no batteries.

13. Sign up to sites such as secret sales and Zulily for bargains but make sure you research before you buy, some of the bargains are amazing, others may be cheaper on none sale sites.  Also keep an eye out on sites such as groupon as sometimes experiences are better than items and can make unique gifts.

14. Pound shops are your new best friend.  Don't be shy, take a deep breath and CHARGE! You may be surprised at what you find, it's not all tat and you can get oodles of stocking fillers.

15. Before you spend petrol and sanity and go to Waterstones or WHS for book gifts, try The Book People or Red House for some utter bargains.

16. Good luck.  You'll need it.  Just think, you'll have a whole year until it starts all over again.  Don't cry, snot and Gin don't mix.

On the thought process of gifting.

The altruistic act of giving someone a gift is usually one that should be one for the benefit of the giftee and not the gifter yet how often do people genuinely think of the giftee?  My family especially have a knack of buying what they want the giftee to have or indeed what they think the giftee should have as opposed to what the giftee actually wants.  That's not to say their heart isn't in the right place, the very fact of giving itself is indeed charitable and honorable yet it is possible to be selfish within a none selfish act.

Take for instance a birthday many years ago, I was visiting Camden for the first time, I was young and gothy and my brother very kindly gave me £50 to spend on myself.  This was incredibly unexpected and undoubtedly generous.  Until the rules came.  He gave me an extended list on what I wasn't allowed to spend it on, which basically included anything and everything I'd actually ever want.  By the end of it, there was no fun in the gift anymore, what at first had been an exhilarating chance to go shopping was now a situation where I didn't even want to look for anything to buy.

So you may think well surely if there is so much you don't wish someone to buy for themselves, why give money and not just an actual gift?  Only he's done this too, usually his old expensive electronic gadgets that he's upgraded which although incredibly generous are often things I neither need nor ever actually want yet it is expected to show gratitude.

Don't get me wrong, this isn't about ungratefulness.  Ungratefulness is vile and terribly uncouth.  This is more about the fragile balance between wanting to treat somebody an deciding what they should like.  Surely true generosity is buying someone something they really want even if you deem it to be utterly crap.

When buying for The Mother who loves jewelry, clothing and pretty things he'll buy her electronic items, again, things he feel she should want because it's an area he is interested in.  The Father will examine lists of what a person desires systematically deleting ever single item he doesn't like.

There's not much I actually want.  My Christmas list is usually empty.  The clothes I like I'm too fat for, most shoes or boots I get I end up selling to pay for other things.  The only thing I am genuinely interested in purely for me is tattoo's and that is one of the things they ban me from buying with any gifted money they may give me.  Why?  Because they don't like tattoos.  I could understand if I wanted to buy heroine or prostitutes but they're fundamentally invalidating my personal taste.  

Surely the notion of gifting is thus at times double edged, is a gift being given to treat the giftee or merely to induce a sense of generosity and promote benevolence within the gifter?  To essentially make them feel like a better person?  To give should be to make someone smile, not to dictate to them what should make them smile and never purely to receive gratitude to inflate your own ego and self worth.

True gifts are unconditional.

Well hello

Did you miss me?  Even a little, even at all?  Could you be terribly kind and lie a little and say you did?

So, in the proverbial post coital of Chrimbogasm, how was it for you?

I must admit it was a somewhat eerily calm event here, remarkably unsettling.  Obviously The Spawn had a ghastly good time yet I can't help shake the feeling that Christmas didn't really reach inside me this year.  Sure I cooked the food, and ahh'ed at the lights yet felt terribly empty as I sat lamenting the sorry sight of our battered tree yet unable to even gather the spirit to fix it.  Granted in part my parting of ways with a bittersweet dear john letter to Mr Zoloft mayhaps have had some hand in this as that lonely little flame reignited and tried to melt the barren wasteland that had smothered it.  I should probably stick to experimenting with my hair rather then my medication.

I must have blown the right elf this year for under my Christmas Tree was a kindle! (Thanks Mothership)

I was however struck with the temporary lurgy of doom, yes utter DOOM I tell you which had me wallowing in the confines of stumpy the bed for several days.  You know your husband loves you when he empties a potty of your vomit for you whilst you shiver and wibble in bed.

We're not really New Year kind of people what with us being agonisingly anti-social yet even we surpassed ourselves seeing as The Husband and I spent the entirety of it not speaking.

My children will never know how much  of their christmas chocolate I've stolen and consequently scoffed when they weren't looking I truly love them.

Sleigh bells ring, are you listening?

I'm still here, somewhere although as to whether i'm waving or drowning remains to be seen.

Despite the lounge being festooned with Christmas finery, or should I say looking like the exploded insides of a 1970's tarts handbag I remain to feel festive despite rather liking the festive period.  Perhaps it's a product of my isolation or mayhaps i'm just that bloody miserable.

It doesn't help that I have a loathing for many of the iconic treats, i'd rather suck out a tramps toe jam then eat mince pies, Christmas cake or indeed Christmas pudding.  I would buy some sprigs of festive mistletoe to adorn the house for Yule yet The Cat would probably eat it and failing that I may be forced to actually kiss The Husband.

I have achieved the unheard of and have completed approximately 99% of my shopping with 95% of that being wrapped already, I actually feel somewhat feint at that. I haven't the foggiest as to what must have come over me. Granted it hasn't been without a complaint (or three) due to some unfortunately crap couriers.  One would think that to be a courier, one really rather ought to be able to read and to use a bit of common sense and look for places.  I. won't even begin my tirade at the ridiculously typical inefficiency of The Royal Mail at this time of year.

The Husband and I are frightfully amused at some of our hiding places this year with many of the presents being incredibly right under The Spawns little noses.

Four more sleeps.  More more sleeps and then wham.  It's all over.  How utterly anti climatical and wasteful of emotional energy.

We did the parental duty of watching Thing Two be an endearing wee reindeer singing with her class and managed not to fall asleep through Thing One's carol service with perhaps the most boring rendition of the nativity from another class accompanying it.  I laid back and thought of Vodka.  Oh wait, that was during some other arduous event.

We survived the trauma of The Turkey of Doom.  I'm terribly partial to a roast Turkey and actually relish the idea of leftovers for several days and as such I ordered a frozen beast of a bird which resulted in a spontaneous bezerker behaviour at the freezer, with a hammer.......oops.

I'll regale you with our adventures in random crafting with the kids for Christmas shortly, once I've recovered.

Christmas is coming the MamaUndone is getting fat...

Phew.  Finally a rather small yet all the same much needed sigh of relief, a small dent has been made in the catastrophic event known as Christmas Shopping.  All three of The Spawns 'main' presents have arrived and indeed some of the smaller ones too, ditto to The Husbands presents.  I was slightly too complacent as 'oh it's only October' and then 'relax, it's only November' which has vastly been replaced with 'oh fuckity fuck fuck, it's nearly bloody December' yet with strategic financial planning with military precision due to limited funds it's more a case of buy as soon as you have the money before it disappears on dreadfully boring things like you know..food.  There seems to be two parenting camps when it comes to Christmas, those who successfully employ a modest gift affair rife with meaning and appreciation and then there's us, I confess to going somewhat bananas at Christmas and no that's not to say i'm yellow.   Birthdays and Christmas are the only times when we can do this, it's not like we have holidays or even a car to go places in and we're not religious so for us shallow heathens it really rather is all about the glitter, gluttony and yes...presents at least for the kids for Christmas with The Party Of Five is all about The Spawn.

Even better is the fact that so far, I've barley had to leave the sanctuary of home to do it which society should be dreadfully grateful for, what with my intense loathing of well..people really.  In my old age shopping really isn't fun unless it's done online.  Gone are the days when I reveled in languishing around shops all day at leisure  now it is something to be endured and survive.  I think I've been infected with blokeism, it's okay though my balls aren't hairy.

So with an Amazon shopping list as long as my arm ready to be checked out as soon as I forage and gather more pennies and pesky stocking fillers to be purchased things are so far going smoothly, although no doubt i've jinxed myself by that statement alone.

I'll admit to being terrifically chuffed that I managed to source the bargain wooden market stall by Asda that all stores appear to be unsurprisingly out of stock of and the Asda Direct website have now erased it from their site through a local company that sell on undelivered Asda stock.  We originally went to purchase some bargain toy wrestlers for Thing One and a new doll house for  Thing Two and whilst chatting to the utterly delightful staff I mentioned my woe at the mission impossible of locating the wooden market stall and they said they were expecting some and would save one for us!  How absolutely terrific! True to their word they phoned later in the day and we are collecting one tomorrow.  It is highly probable that my excitement over it will readily surpass that of The Toddler who it is destined for.

So that just leaves the wider family to buy for.  I'm still decidedly torn between hash up hampers of random bought goods or novelty items seeing as our budget is forever low.  As an alternative to 5-10 scratchcards in a Christmas card I've been scouting out other novel 'money' gifts and have been toying over Bingo credit at somewhere like Iceland Bingo.  There is such a minefield of Bingo sites out there it would appear that every company under the sun also have a bingo site, i'll admit to being frightfully bewildered by it all seeing as the last time I played bingo was at my great aunts house , obviously before they died ...though I feel necro-bingo could be going to the Dragons Den soon, you heard it here first.  Oh and I was one of those horrible pesky things, you know, a child.  So, what would you think if someone gave you a gift of some credit for a bingo site? funky and fun or shamefully obscure in a bad way?  Maybe I should just stick to a bottle of plonk and a box of chocolates and be abysmally predictable.

All this planning is awfully exhausting is it vodka o'clock yet?

Dear Santa.....

So, Thing Two (age 6) came downstairs one day clutching an envelope asking if we had Father Christmas' address.  I assured her i'd find it and would in the mean time put her letter somewhere safe

Naturally as soon as she went to bed I had a nosy, well you would wouldn't you?  I expected the stereotypical 'I want I want' letter that kids are expected to write.

I should have known better, after all this is Thing Two we're talking about.  Inside the letter was a picture coloured in for him and a card hand written by herself, with a free hand portrait of him..

Bless her, not once did she tell him what a good girl she is and nor did she ask for a single thing

Treemas

I know I know, it's the 'C' word again. Trust me I'm equally as disgustipated with myself as you should rightfully be with me for yet again referring to it in October. It's atrocious and absurd. Christmas is winter we should be getting up close and personal doing the Lambada with Autumn. I feel like I'm being a trifle unfaithful even thinking the c word.

So I'll make this quick. I promise.

During a recent date with insomnia at Chez Google I stumbled across Hayes Garden World and inadvertently trees, more specifically, Christmas Trees. ARGH. I mean, seriously? Already? I dread to even think where we might even fit ours this year, ours which is hibernating blissfully unaware in the loft right now for you see we have a fake tree (sorry mum. Sorry Santa) logistics aside (we don't drive) as beautiful as real Christmas trees look I genuinely feel a great sense of sadness seeing their corpses strewn and littered in the new year. It reeks of death and of neglect. Now I'm no manic tree hugger yet I do feel am indescribable affinity to trees, I'm drawn to them. I find both beauty and calm amongst them. It seems ruthless and wasteful to use them then discard them. Yet there is something undeniably satisfying about a real tree. If The Husband had his way we'd have no tree and better still, no Christmas. Failing that he'd heroically suffer and look at  fake Chrismas trees, so long as it was black and possibly fibre optic. I wonder if you can get black metal Christmas trees with corpse paint on? I am leaning towards the rather twee notion of sticking with our fake tree inside yet planting a real one outside, so that it will grow with us as we do as a family, a tree representative of the longevity of memories of each passing Christmas, perhaps a memory tree as opposed to merely a Christmas tree. With fairy lights. Lots of fairy lights. I like fairy lights.

 So how about you? Will you be faking it or keeping it real this Christmas?

The 'C' word.

It's only just turned October yet a few weeks ago, yes, that would be September our local super market was boasting shelves swollen with Christmas stuff. Yes, really, Christmas. What is wrong with people, It's nearly a quarter of a year away! We've only just said so long and farewell at the grey and dismal funeral of our so-called summer.Gosh, It's all gotten rather silly hasn't it?  Is the great British depression so virulent that we've resorted to this? What a load of tosh. surely if we start this early then by the time December graces us the build us leaves naught except a rather unfortunate anti climax.

When you're wee, Christmas is a magical time of sparkle, chocolate and presents. When you're in your spritely youth It's all about getting rather trolleyed with added sparkle to your hangover. Yet when you become a boring grown-up with a husband and spawn it becomes a tactical and logistical headache balancing the timing, finances and organisation whilst portraying a fascade of excitement, peace and magic. Don't bother gift wrapping the Valium just gimme gimme gimme. Perhaps if The Toddler ever decides to night wean I can get squiffy whilst on wrapping duties to alleviate the ennui, it would only take a sniff or two of a wine gum It's been that long. The Husband may even get lucky, at least that would save money on a gift...

Yet Yule aside between November and January there are no less then five birthdays on The Husbands side of the family, how rude of them!

I need a money tree.

Every year since birthing The Spawn I vow to be more organised as opposed to leaving it all until the last week or two.

This year I'm already plotting the token gifts for extended family, perhaps venturing into the rather twee world of the personalised photo calendar. What better gift for The Grandparents then a darling picture of the little darlings aka the grand spawn for each month of 2013? I know, I know, pass the bucket. Yet when you have exhausted all other budget friendly gifts such as alcohol, chocolates, book tokens It's time to get 'personal'.

It was one of those things that I always assumed would be grossly over budget until I was fantasy shopping at Jessops Photo (oh sugar daddy! A dslr please, pretty please) and came across make your own calendar. Jobs a good 'un! That's The Grandparents presents sorted then. Piece of piss this being organised lark. Now....where's the wine gums?.... I'm positively exhausted after all that cyber shopping.