Archive | December, 2010

A very M-G Christmas

30 Dec

And so that was Christmas.

I do love a good festive occasion. I think I’ve mentioned that before. I love a spot of carol singing too – I know I’ve mentioned that. I love writing Christmas cards to people I never see with promises to catch up in the new year. I hand write every card, each with an individual sentiment tailored to the recipient. I seal each envelope with a Christmas-themed sticker. These things thrill me.

I am fully aware of how this is reading to you right now. I know the picture you’re forming. But I can’t help myself.

The thing about this kind of dedication to the festive spirit is that two kids leave you with fuck all time. One can’t be embracing the writing of cards with such enthusiasm when there are little mouths just begging to be fed and little bums in dire need of a bath.

So maybe, this year, some of the individually tailored sentiments were actually the same but written in a different sequence. Note to family and friends; don’t compare cards. It’s rude.

One year, I sent my Christmas cards out on NOVEMBER 18th. And then I tapped my foot impatiently at the letterbox each day for the next month waiting for my reciprocal piece of holiday cheer. I was quietly shocked that some cards arrived on the 24th of December. Some people liked to live on the edge, I thought. And some people don’t realise that their card will only be on display for a week at best before it’s relegated to the recycling bin. Craziness, I thought.

This year, my cards didn’t make it out by November 18th. Some didn’t make it out by December 18th. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

The actual celebration of Christmas Day is equally thrilling for me. This year, we celebrated as the Family M-G. Not another soul did we see that day. Well, no, that’s not true, I saw the guy at the bottle shop when I went for a beer run. But apart from him, it was just we four.

Both children deemed it necessary to start the festivities at 5am on Christmas morning. I did not feel terribly merry. And bright? No. Not so much.

But Christmas through a child’s eyes is contagious and so as we followed LD up the stairs to check if Santa had been, the fog of exhaustion slowly lifted.

A blur of gift opening followed. This year was the first that LD really hooked into the idea of Santa. He was pretty stoked with the first three gifts he opened and was happily playing with them but there were so many more still waiting in his stocking and B and I impatiently urged him to keep unwrapping. Unfortunately, what this did was make the opening of the gifts the highlight rather than the gift itself. By 10am, LD had run out of gifts to open (staggered throughout the morning – he did not have five solid hours worth of gifts to unwrap) but by then, it was too late and the monster had been created. The present frenzy was suddenly at an end and LD was now a junkie looking for his next festive foil-wrapped hit.

Ironically, he returned to two of those first three gifts and played with them all day long. A pair of blow up Buzz Lightyear wings and a wrist ‘laser’ also from the Buzz franchise. Total cost: less than thirty bucks. Next year, when I spend just thirty bucks on Christmas presents, he’ll piss and moan about the distinct lack of gifts to open. And their cheapness.

Zee, in typical baby fashion, delighted in the wrapping paper and just generally being in on the action of his older brother’s present-opening rampage.

Late morning, preparing the roast turkey lunch, I spoke to myself quietly.

“What was that?” asked B.

“Hmmm?” I replied, vaguely.

It wouldn’t have been in keeping with the holiday cheer to admit that what I actually said was, “I can’t be bothered.”

Later, as I set the Christmas feast on the table, it occurred to me that there was nothing in the lunch that LD would eat. Turkey, roast potatoes and pumpkin, green beans and peas, gravy. Nope. Mr. Fussy would deem none of that to his liking. This is the child who once licked chocolate and deemed it, “Not tasty” so I can’t really say I wasn’t warned.

Out of his mind with fatigue and probably starving hungry, LD began to whine about wanting someone to pop the Christmas cracker with him. We told him no, he had to wait until we were all ready and seated at the table. So he just popped it himself.

After (watching everyone else eat) lunch, we put something Christmassy on television and LD promptly fell asleep sitting up. Of course, we took photos and made fun of him. It was great.

Finally putting the sleep-resisting Zee down for a nap, I was ready to assume the position. The foetal position, that is.

What is it about Christmas Day that kicks the fuck out of you?

I’m glad I have a full year to recover. And for Christmas 2011, I think I’ll simplify wherever possible. Fewer gifts, maybe a serious cull of the Christmas card list.

But I do have the most darling idea for the place settings………

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RMTT #16/ Friday Faves Christmas Combo!

24 Dec

Last night, Aunty Tor, a Family M-G fave, stopped by for a glass (or three) of Christmas cheer. We drank pink bubbles, exchanged gifts and drank more pink bubbles and then we laughed at YouTube clips of people being completely embarrassing or completely talented. It was ace.

But it meant Random Mumma Thoughts did not happen. It’s a busy time of year and maybe you didn’t even notice. But I’m choosing to believe that you did notice, that last night just wasn’t the same without RMTT.

And then, of course, today, I needed to write a Friday Faves.

Christmas Eve, huh? Yeah, I don’t have time for all this writing pressure.

So here’s my ingenious plan. I’ve rolled the two into one fabulous Christmas Combo!

Firstly, a Christmassy RMTT #16

–         Yesterday, I turned the house upside down looking for a card I had written for Aunty Tor some weeks earlier. I mean, I turned the place UPSIDE DOWN. I couldn’t find it anywhere. I was so, so fucking annoyed. It had been on my writing desk, in the same spot, for WEEKS! And now, GONE! It wasn’t until I was through my first glass of pink bubbles that I started to get over my frustration. Today, I find it. I find the card sitting on top of my computer. And I just feel very strongly that I checked there. THREE TIMES. If the card had a throat, I would definitely have punched it.

–         I have not wrapped the presents yet. And B has to put up the trampoline tonight. Relaxing Christmas Eve? Sure, why not? It’ll be fun. I love wrapping presents and B is a gun at putting things together….. We may need beer.

–         The reason I haven’t wrapped the presents which I have had sitting in my cupboard since approximately August is because….I can’t remember. But tonight seems as good a time as any.

–         The reason B hasn’t put up the trampoline yet is because it’s big and I felt the kids might get suspicious about the big fucking trampoline in the back yard.

–         This Christmas, the M-Gs are celebrating with four people and four people only. That’s right. We have forsaken all others and are just doing our own little family Christmas. We love our extended families, of course we do, but holy relaxation, it’ll be nice not to have to go anywhere or see anyone.

–         Downside – I have to cook.

–         Upside – I can reserve the crunchiest roasted potatoes for myself.

–         Threatening that Santa won’t bring presents as a way of ensuring good behaviour is a dismal failure. It’s a hollow threat. I know it and my three-and-a-half-year-old sure as hell knows it. What are we going to do? Cancel Christmas? Missing out on watching the kids open the obscene amount of presents ‘Santa’ brought them would just ruin our day. But even so, we pushed the ‘No Santa’ line right up until LD’s bedtime. He was breaking new naughtiness records all day long in what can only be viewed as a big ‘FUCK YOU!’ to the fat guy but I think the Santa thing did get LD (LittleDemon) to sleep more quickly than usual.

–         Zee has been an angel and I’m tempted to give him all of LD’s presents.

–         No matter how bad my day was or how heinous my children’s behaviour has been, watching them drift into slumber just about stops my heart. It is a gift. That moment is a gift. And it never gets old.

–         I love Christmas carols. No, really, I love them. I’m listening to Sinatra sing the classics as I type.

–         I love Christmas. I really do.

–         My Christmas tree is already dead. It’s been dead for a least a week. It’s so dry the needles just crumble to dust if you touch them. What a rip.

–         I think I might buy a big fuck-off plastic tree at the Boxing Day sales.

–         What is it about Christmas and just being compelled to eat shit constantly? I am a walking box of chocolates right now.

–         And also, some chilli flavoured potato chips… 

–         The gym is closed for the next four days.

–         NOT. MY. FAULT.

And now, onto Friday Faves. And at this time of maximumly extreme consumerism, I’m not going to show you any ‘stuff’ – the last thing any of us needs is to look at more things we could possibly buy.

Instead, I want to share a favourite Christmas photo.

It’s me, circa…I don’t know, maybe 1985? It makes me laugh. And it takes me right there. Our family Christmases were epic. At least, I thought so. My parents – namely, my mum – put on an awesome Christmas show.

I would so love to recreate that magic for my own family.

Merry Christmas to you and yours. Be safe and if necessary, be drunk.

The Little Mumma loves you! 

See you in a couple of days.

Introducing B

22 Dec

So, remember when I said I was going to do a series of introductions for some of the main players on The Little Mumma? No? Well, I did. I said it here. And I did the Proust Questionnaire and told you I had webbed toes and my lifelong dream was to do the splits.

In the spirit of reintroducing myself, I updated my About section recently, too. Did you see it?

And now, it’s time to introduce the next key player.

Readers of The Little Mumma, meet B.

B is my main squeeze although he will maintain I don’t do nearly enough squeezing. My reply to which is, I did enough squeezing as I gave birth to his sons so whatever.

B and I met at the dawn of the millennium. It was 1999 and we did party, just like it was.

I was 23 years old, living with Mr Wrong and dreaming of an acting career but doing very little in the way of pursuing it. I was all about the relationship angst back then.

B was the bass player in a band and one of my dearest friends, CC, was dating the lead singer. She invited me to a gig – but the rest was NOT history. I brought Mr Wrong along with me, we proceeded to have the obligatory fight and I ended up sitting on the curb outside the pub crying over spilt beer.

B remembers it like this. “After the gig, we headed outside to catch a cab and I saw Angie sitting in the gutter. And I thought to myself, ‘That girl is beautiful. She wouldn’t be crying like that if she was with me’.

BEST. STORY. EVER.

We didn’t get together for another 9 months or so. But fate was at work so eventually, the stars aligned or whatever. And then, yes, the rest was history.

What to say about B? How best to encapsulate all that he is?

I can’t.

These things are true though.

He is an exceptionally good man.

He is a brilliant father.

And he was right. He has never made me cry like that.

Together, we fit.

I reckon it might be serious enough to consider marriage. Ha!

One last thing to know about B. A thing that, for me, captures the very essence of the man.

If he finds a shopping/to-do list I have left lying around (and he finds many), he MUST, every time, without fail, make the following addition to that list.

 

I LOVE this guy.

 

Home Dutiful

20 Dec

Before kids, Groundhog Day was a funny movie starring Bill Murray and that awful chick, Andie what’s-her-name. Now, it has taken on a very different meaning. Only now do I understand how torturous it was for Bill to live that same day again and again, not least of all because he was given chance after chance to get it right and still, he kept fucking it up. Oh Bill, I am feeling you now.

The hardest thing for me is the relentlessness of life with very small children. Of having to be the adult when, inside, I feel like running to my mumma. No matter how good a day you just had, it all gets swept aside for the new day. Yesterday’s successes don’t count. You’ve just got to do it all again. But this time, you do it with the knowledge that there’s no way you’re going to top yesterday.

So the slate is wiped clean – a great thing when the day you just had sucked arse and bullshit when you just nailed everything. It’s all gone. Whoosh! Although maybe not in your mind. No, in your mind, you’re still living out the glory of yesterday.

~

The 3 Year Old: “Mumma, wanna come play farm animals for a little bit?”

The Little Mumma: “Noooo, honey. I played farm animals yesterday. Remember? And I made the funny pig face and we rolled around on the floor giggling and it was a totally bonding moment of togetherness? Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten we played together yesterday. Yesterday was EPIC!”

The Mister: “Babe, what’s for dinner tonight?”

The Little Mumma: “Hahaha! You’re such a kidder, honey! I made dinner last night. Oh man, that dinner was good, huh? And I had it in the slow cooker by midday. Good times. ‘What’s for dinner tonight?’ he says. Hahaha! That’s so why I’m with you, babe. Because you make me laugh.”

Of course, I have never actually had either of those conversations. Out loud.

 Good days. For me, a ‘good’ day means that I have ticked all the MUST DO boxes. There was food, people bathed, wore clothes, nappies were changed, used dishes were, at the very least, rinsed and stacked in the dishwasher and, if I was really hitting my straps, the kids and I may have smiled at each other briefly. A good day.

But in truth, a good day simply means I kept up. With the happenings of this one day. My head remained above water for the duration. But it’s ultimately a stand alone event. It cuts me absolutely no slack for tomorrow.  I still have a huge backlog of things I reeeally need to do. But crossing things off a mile-long To-Do list does enter into the good day equation. If I actually crossed something off the To-Do list, that would constitute an upgrade. That would be a GREAT day.

A good day is nice to have. But it doesn’t change anything. The reward is in the day itself. It has no bearing on the future.

Conversely, a bad day can haunt you for months.

So, I don’t know. Being a stay-at-home mum is…..boring. You know, sometimes, it just really is. And if the most you can hope for is a good day, a day where things didn’t go backwards, then it’s not always easy to find the rewards.

My biggest problem, as I have discussed previously, is that I just want to do so much. And so much of that stuff is seriously hampered by having two kidlets under four looking to me to be Mumma. Which is, after all, who I am. With two tiny ones, that is my gig. And the days I surrender to that completely, putting aside all other aspirations, are the days that are not just good but even nice. When I am truly in the moment with my kids, that’s actually really, really nice.

 

5 sweet winners

19 Dec

Post-anniversary dinner and no hangover. Hurrah!

And the chocolate goes to….

 

 

Rachel (My wish is for world peace (or course) or at least a sleep in until 7am)

 

 

 

 

 

Michelle (After spending 5mths losing over 17kgs, a little Chocolatier Cheer would be my Christmas wish)

 

 

 

 

Julie (My Christmas wish is for my little family to have a happy, stress free couple of days)


 

 

Amanda (I wish for a Safe & Healthy Holiday season & hope my luck is better in 2011)

 

 

 

 

 

Michelle (My christmas wish is for a happy and stressless day with family)

 

 

 

 

Congratulations to all the winners. Email or Facebook me with your postal details and I will pop something sweet in the mail for you.

 

Thanks to everyone who entered and Merry Christmas!