The Lies We HAVE To Tell Ourselves
Another weekend down and that bit closer to Christmas. Scary right? I refuse to be stressed. I have done all the kids in the family and that’s really all that matters. The adults will understand a ‘late’ present surely… So when I repeat my mantra ‘I will not be stressed, I will not be stressed’ it will all go away. I’m dreaming I know. What I actually did was pre planned so that I didn’t end up shopping right before we go away. Total LIES!
Two years ago I did my time traipsing around a large shopping centre newborn strapped to me, head about to explode. Dizzy from the craziness and disorganisation of my life post baby. I hadn’t quite acquainted myself with the wonderful world of online shopping, I joyfully remained old school. I’ve learnt better. Still I have many presents to buy but I will focus on the fact that Christmas is a time for happiness and spending time with my loved ones, not ramming prams and evil glares. Damn you people, don’t burst my bubble. This state of bliss is lovely but in a matter of days the reality will dawn on me and the panic will set in.
This weekend was lovely we did the park thing, the market (no joy there I bought for myself), I went to a lovely tea party for a cousin and we caught up with a bunch of friends. NO CHRISTMAS SHOPPING! But it was fun, no regrets. Maybe just the scotch post the bottle of wine Dan and I shared Saturday night, my head gave me a little lecture at 0600 when Matisse decided to wake.
Saturday was tree day, we finally got around to putting it up, I was hanging for the first of December, couldn’t wait and then, life happened. Matisse was in her happy place until she smashed a glass ball, so we had to go to this awesome Christmas shop to replace it. We came out with a lot more than we bargained for, we are absolute suckers but I’m happy with her reaction every time she walks in to the room. Even if it is to steal another ball.
This morning I’m sitting here planning the day’s events, enjoying the first of many coffees today. No TV, no external sounds just the bustling of Matisse trumpeting on one of her blocks. It makes this whistling noise that could be aggravating but I just love it. She is sitting there playing with her doll patting its belly with a nurturing hand, willing it to sleep with her block trumpet. We are home as she is on the green side of snot, but this exile is working out well for us as she plays and creates beautifully around me. The week is beginning on a nice note and I look forward to another full one.