How marvelously festive!
No actually it is. Life is great and I've already had to go back upstairs twice to reassure my eldest son that the strange noise he can hear is actually next-door's dart board being used and not 'someone' on the roof.
It's been a lovely day - in a slightly odd kind of way.
I decided to take the train down to the nearest town this morning so I could get some food for tomorrow. It would be slightly grim to have nothing to eat but Weetabix on Christmas Day. Things were going swimmingly until A said 'oh look mummy! There's the town going past REALLY REALLY FAST'. Que me going 'OH MY GOD, WE'RE ON THE WRONG BLOODY TRAIN!' and getting lots of 'oh what a bloody ridiculous woman' dirty looks of seasoned London commuters'. Yeah I used to be one of you - and then I had kids and became one of 'them'.
So I ended up in Central London, on Christmas Eve, with two small children, a large all-terrain pram and a no appropriate ticket..... Oh well, there's nothing like an adventure to lift the spirits.
We (eventually) got to our correct destination and into the supermarket. I won't say anymore other than I actually shed real tears at one point and I needed an alcoholic drink afterwards.
I then found myself 3 miles from home, with 1 pram, 1 crying baby, 6 large heavy bags of shopping and 1 young boy who (apparently) couldn't walk another step. Tiredness then totally zapped any rationality from his little brain and he did that beserk, insane, brain rewiring mad thing only very tired small children do. Shouting that mummy wasn't walking in a straight line (I hadn't had the wine at that point), demanding to know why mummy wasn't walking in EXACTLY the same pattern as him, crying that mummy wasn't doing 'nice talking' and demanding to know every last detail about traffic light sequencing and railway timetables.
Through all of this, with every step I took the nasty plastic bag handles cut deeper into my wrists (I do have those eco-friendly big hemp bag things but, errr, I forgot them - again), my shoulders throbbed more, the traffic roared louder, the sky threatened rain more seriously, the baby cried harder, the whinging increased, my blood pressure rose and then...... all the bits of shopping I couldn't carry and were balanced on top of the pram crashed to the floor. I stopped the cavalcade and stooped to pick them up, standing there with a cucumber in one hand and half a salmon in the other while A sobbed that I had to 'carry him home'.
I forced myself to think kind thoughts, silently shouted at the sky and just about managed not to use the cucumber as an offensive weapon. Although, in hindsight, I think I may have waved it around in a slightly unusual fashion judging by the looks I got. Or maybe that was the salmon...
But now we are home. Children are bathed, cuddles have been had, baths have been bathed in, fluffy towels have wrapped small bodies, food has been safely stashed, candles are lit, presents are wrapped, magic is everywhere and wine has been poured...
... HAPPY CHRISTMAS! Have a good one.