How do they know?!

Somehow,  even though I don't tell them,  the boys are always aware when I'm going to have a busy day so they can ensure I don't get any sleep. Last night, I was busting a hump trying to get packed and cleaned up for our Christmas visit to mum and Bill's today. About 3 am, I heard the vocal styling of Ben. I ignored him for a while as he often goes back to sleep. Not tonight though. Tonight was full on wails which made me think he was being murdered. I go into him and scoop him up. He gives me his "thank God you rescued me from this trauma" sigh and I survey the damage - bears have been forcibly evicted, even cuddlebunny, and everything on the bedside cabinet has also been chucked off. I take him to the living room and strap him in his chair and rock him back to sleep. It only took 30 minutes which is great compared to last night's 2 1/2 hours.

At 3:45 am I climb into bed, safe in the knowledge that, as the boys didn't get to sleep until late, I would be able to sleep until 8:30, maybe later.

At 6:00, I am woken by Noah crying. Noah isn't generally an arsehole like his twin and only cries when something is really wrong. So I get him out of his cot, he'd done what we maturely refer to in this house as "a stinky". I found this out by sticking my hand down the back of his nappy as I didn't actually think he had been. WTF was I thinking? He is presently relaxing in his chair watching Baby TV. I now hear Ben having a grumble. 

And so the day begins. I haven't even recovered from yesterday which only finished a few hours ago for me.

I now only have 7 hours to finish preparing for our 5 day visit. I've been warned not to bring a load of stuff with me again and it's going well in that aspect,  but I suspect I will panic at some point and throw everything I own into the bags, just in case, because they don't have shops in Herne Bay if I forget anything. 

Time to crack open the Red Bull.

It's the most wonderful time of the year?!

Once again the cinnamon spiced breath of Christmas can be felt on the back of my neck. Yet another event which I must change my entire view of due to having children.

Christmas for me had always been about the food, the drink and the social activities. The search for the perfect glittery outfit for pubbing and clubbing on Christmas eve, the afternoon jaunts to the pub with your friends, sitting around a fire and drinking mulled wine, mulled cider, baileys, hot toddys, winter pimms etc, the work Christmas parties... Now apparently it's all about making your own decorations with the kids, Christmas eve boxes and the phrase "it's all about the children."

I would desperately love to create a winter wonderland in our home for the boys - big trees, colourful hand and foot shaped tree decorations and flashy lights, but I have sadly been afflicted with laziness and a lack of vision and imagination.
 I have so far managed to put some tinsel around the lamp and a Paperchase wreath on the door. I attempted to put up a garland and a little sign, but both broke as there is nothing in the world which will hold them up. Blue tack isn't strong enough  the suction hooks that don't create any suction and the adhesive hooks which will rip the wall off when I try to peel them off after Christmas.

I had visions of my two angelic looking boys dancing around the living room to Christmas music whilst I cheerfully sang along as I transformed the living room in to a festive haven. The harsh reality was a pair of boys whinging because I switched off Baby TV to put Christmas music channels on and then crying at Wizzard because they were scared of the big beards.
Singing along to the festive tunes was replaced by lots of under the breath swearing as I realised the lights were a fraction too short, that the wall stickers look like they were put up by a blind man and that the garland that broke because the suction hooks holding them up were remarkably suction free. Not to mention that every time I dropped a hook or a piece of blue tack, the boys were sitting under the ladder ready to eat anything that came their way.

In all honesty, I'm not that bothered this year. The boys are too young to grasp the concept of Christmas. I haven't bought them many presents as they don't care about toys, especially when there is tupperware, coat hangers and plastic bottles to play with.

To make it worse, I can't even drink at the moment due to taking painkillers for my bad back (yet another symptom of my impending elderly personism). To rub it in further, I have just acquired a bottle of salted caramel liqueur. I can see it out of the corner of my eye now, teasing me. Hinting at what i'm missing out on. The wanton hussy.

Next year the boys will be aware of what's going on and I will invite santa in and some elves. And I will do crafty things involving salt dough, glitter and paint and baking cookies and shit. But this year is the last year I shall entertain my inner Grinch. We've been together a long time, but it's time to say goodbye because from now on, it is all about the children.