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.

Baby it's cold outside...

I've survived the weekend so far, just.  However, the awful guilt of being very un enid blytonesque saw me making The Toddler a fresh batch of play dough today, whilst I poked about at the dirty pots seeing how many I could get away with not doing.  All was well, his face was one of utter delight as we sat and laughed together, splatting play dough balls  with our hands (after he made me create said balls) we were a poster advert for good mothers.com until The Toddler decided to wander round the kitchen depositing lumps of play dough that i'd lovingly prepared by hand all around the sodding kitchen and when I had the audacity to reprimand him he then decided to lob them, everywhere. Git.

Needless to say I got rather cross and he indeed got rather crosser before he resorted to the age old art of sulking seeing as I dared to turn the lifeline oops I mean television off. Yet to think it as only this morning when he beamed into my eyes with a dazzling smile and called me 'best friend'.

I should learn, I've documented enough disasters on here of when I try to be a proactive at play mum, yet sit me down on the sofa with my life support (aka my phone) and he happily potters around playing a multitude of complex and enchanting games, occasionally stopping to watch a bit if tele or to have a boobie snack perfectly happy as we chat.

Having no idea as to when to expect thee return of The Spawn I didn't even try and get The Toddler to nap today and thus i'm frightfully knackered and am decidedly dreading bedtime tonight as I fear with The Husband still en route home from Austria Things One & Two will concoct a whole repertoire of ailments to prolong the inevitable act of going to sleep.  Joy.  

I'm feeling especially more relaxed on The Christmas Shopping front with the majority of The Husbands presents bought, all of The Spawns 'main' presents (however still an absurdly large amount of smaller gifts to get) I've even bought The Mothers gifts so that just leaves The Nephews, The Brother and The Father as well as the beloved Outlaws. ...& breath.

I'm feeling especially smug as I managed to buy a Didicar for a bargainous price thanks to an offer, some credit and the discount code 20MUMSNE15 (shhh, you can thank me later)  It shamefully wasn't even on the list but I couldn't resist, however this does mean Things One & Two may have to actually share, oh bollocks.  What a genius plan that was.

In a fit of uncharacteristic efficiency I've managed to find and order Thing Two's outfit for The Wedding in January.  

I've even done some laundry today, mayhaps i'm ill?  That would explain it.

Yet to top it all of,  yours truly the absolute craft inept made (yes made) one of Thing Two's presents last night.  She wants to be a ballerina so having bought a cheap pink leotard I've made her a tutu to go with it.  Calm down, relax, it was a no sew one, i'm still me.

So Santa Baby, since I've been an awfully good girl, please pretty please could I have a shiny new camera? If you agree i'll even give you the antidote to the poison in the milk you just drank.  It's not that i'm mean, i'm just terribly desperate. I've been positively lusting after a DSLR for many many years now and I'm sure The Elves won't care too much if you get it from Jessops, you could probably even get some cashback too to spend on Mrs Claus.

Oh bumflaps.  The Spawn are going a tad mental, with The Toddler sat in Thing Two's doll pram as she zooms round the room pushing him whilst Thing One is being a general pissant.  I've been pretending not to notice but I guess I really should referee (aka issue some bollockings) before it all gets out of hand ...

Damn.  Too late.  Boobies to the rescue.