Oh the unescapable-ness of Christmas.
Last year I wanted to miss it. I did have a four week old baby who was still waking twice in the night for feeds so perhaps you can understand how I felt.
This year I have a bouncing eleven and a half month old and between now and Christmas I have a lot to do. There's the Ladies Christmas Lunch my church holds, an event that involves me decorating the church and making seventeen centrepieces. I love doing it, don't get me wrong, but it's a lot to do. Josephs birthday is right after and we are holding his party on the following Saturday. That week will also see me returning to work so I will be feeling the pressure. Yes, I know it's only one day a week but it's still one more thing to do.
I also have to do some sewing between now and then. I want to make a little jacket for Joseph, it will have something of the lion about it as we're having a jungle theme for his party.
Ok, for the more pedantic of you out there I do know that lions are not found in the jungle, they tend to live on open plains like the Serengeti, but this is a kids party and I didn't think the tiger print suited him so well.
I also need to either purchase new or alter my work trousers. Whilst trying to become pregnant I went on a diet and have continued to do so since giving birth and although my weight loss has now stalled I am still a good two stone lighter since I began the process getting on for two years ago. My work trousers have an air of the elephant about them and when I put them on last my lovely husband pointed out that I looked a lot like Charlie Chaplin. I guess it's all the time I've spent on my step-a-cize machine, it really has done a number on my glutes. So that's one more thing added to the heap of things I need to fit in soon.
The net result is that I've forgotten about Christmas. Two years ago, by the time advent had started I was a good 75% through my Christmas shopping, I had made a fabric advent calendar and filled the pockets with Quality Street and I was planning how to do the Christmas dinner as I had decided to take over the kitchen and do all of the cooking. It was a fine spread that included a massive turkey named Gerald (a long story for another blog) and not a single unadulterated vegetable in sight. I'd even honey glazed the carrots.
This year I'd like to cook again. Joseph is kindly letting us sleep at night so I will be safe around machinery and sharp knives, but finding the time to plan is hard. My Mum has ordered a turkey and that's about as far as it goes. She's also requested tiramisu for pudding for a change. I like tiramisu, and I especially like putting plenty of amaretto on the sponge, but I like Christmas pudding as well and I can't help but wonder if it might cause a bit of a family rebellion.
Oh, just the thought of fighting round the supermarket for the food in the week before Christmas is making me a little nauseous. Perhaps I will fit a cow-catcher on the front of the trolley this time so I can get through the crowds. Tis the season to fight over bags of sprouts and discover that there's no smoked bacon left and all the cashiers are forced to wear jolly Santa hats. There's something about a bright red hat that gives an air of malevolence. It's not a fun job at the best of times but when management force you into silly head gear it's nigh on impossible to stay positive.
I'm looking forward to the new year. So far January is promising to be a very boring month.
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