As the year draws to a close, unlike my jeans whose top buttons have never seemed further apart after all the festive shovelling of food I’ve been doing into my mouth, I thought it high time to issue one of my increasingly infrequent, rambling missives.
For the past week we’ve been enjoying a rather lovely White Christmas. Indeed, I’m currently on the lounge with a big soothing pot of tea and watching the snow come down in flurries outside. As per tradition, my mother-in-law is trying to kill me with food. I used to think it was because she thought her son could do better than me, now I realise that it’s simply her mission to make everyone around her fat. Thank goodness, the summer holidays are half a year away and I have time to transform myself back into beach body ready. In my current state, helpful environmentalists would be trying to roll me back into the water.
Now, it’s no secret that I do so love Christmas. I adore decorating the house, going shopping, dressing up in my finery and playing carols until my long-suffering husband appears just about ready to murder me. This year, however, I was especially excited by the prospect of reliving the magic of Christmas through my son’s eyes, as I did when my sisters were little. Sadly, it seems that I’ll have to wait until next year, as he was a tad under-whelmed by it all, quite frankly. He showed no inclination to rip open his presents whatsoever; although he didn’t mind them once they were presented to him – his favourite so far being a dancing Santa that sings Jingle Bell Rock on repeat. As you can imagine he finds it endlessly fascinating, while we can only tolerate one or two loops of the song before frantically reaching for the off switch.
It’s been an interesting year to say the least, with my discovering both the joys and miseries of daddyhood, while still trying to maintain some semblance of my former life. At times, it’s been exceedingly difficult, but as clichéd as it sounds, one smile from my beautiful blue-eyed boy makes everything better. It’s an image I desperately try to hold onto when he’s in the middle of one of his seemingly unprovoked mega tantrums.
Anyways, time I left the couch and made my way down to Le Palais to get in some ice-skating and a gym session, promptly followed by a piping hot chocolate…or vin chaud…or both. Wishing you all continuing festive fun in celebration of our High Lord Santa!!