Christmas YAY

I am trapped in the house with my family and Miss 5 has just locked us all out of the bathroom. Help meeeee...

The Gingerbread house

Today was gingerbread house decorating day....

Decorated by hubs and the kids

I left the decorating to the rest of the family this year.

I am writing a novella at the moment (30,000 words).  I'm planning to submit it to Entangled Publishing on 15th January as part of their call for Geek Girl stories.  So far I have a kick-arse story, but its only 10,000 words long. Which has turned me into a bad tempered headphone wearing individual who is glued to her computer - well, in between over-compensating the kids with lollies and movies, to alleviate a massive glut of mother guilt because I'm not rushing about with carols on full blast and the house smelling of frankincense and myrrrr.

Honestly, if I'd been left to decorate the Gingerbread house, it'd would've ended up looking a lot like Edenland's House of Doom...

This sublime gingerbread house has an accompanying blog post and vlog over on Edenland's blog, which if you don't know it already, is well worth a read :)

The SAHM 12 Days of Christmas

On the First day of Christmas the Universe gave to me: 
Very long school holidays

On the Second day of Christmas the Universe gave to me: 
Two tired children
and
Very long school holidays

On the Third day of Christmas the Universe gave to me: 
Three ice-skating lessons

Two tired children, and

Very long school holidays

On the Fourth day of Christmas the Universe gave to me: 
Four swollen tonsils

Three ice-skating lessons, Two tired children, and

Very long school holidays

On the Fifth day of Christmas the Universe gave to me: 
Five days of rain

Four swollen tonsils, Three ice-skating lessons, Two tired children, and

Very long school holidays

On the Sixth day of Christmas the Universe gave to me: 
Six craft activities

Five days of rain, 

Four swollen tonsils, Three ice-skating lessons, Two tired children, and

Very long school holidays

On the Seventh day of Christmas the Universe gave to me: 

Seven howling tantrums

Six craft activities

Five days of rain, 

Four swollen tonsils, Three ice-skating lessons, Two tired children, and

Very long school holidays

On the Eighth day of Christmas the Universe gave to me: 
Eight glasses of alcohol

Seven howling tantrums, Six craft activities

Five days of rain, 

Four swollen tonsils, Three ice-skating lessons, Two tired children, and

Very long school holidays

On the Ninth day of Christmas the Universe gave to me: 
Nine Happy Meal Toys

Eight glasses of alcohol, Seven howling tantrums, Six craft activities

Five days of rain, 

Four swollen tonsils, Three ice-skating lessons, Two tired children, and

Very long school holidays

On the Tenth day of Christmas the Universe gave to me: 
Ten loads of washing

Nine Happy Meal Toys, Eight glasses of alcohol, Seven howling tantrums, Six craft activities

Five days of rain, 

Four swollen tonsils, Three ice-skating lessons, Two tired children, and

Very long school holidays

On the Eleventh day of Christmas the Universe gave to me: 
Eleven presents forgotten

Ten loads of washing, Nine Happy Meal Toys, Eight glasses of alcohol, Seven howling tantrums, Six craft activities

Five days of rain, 

Four swollen tonsils, Three ice-skating lessons, Two tired children, and

Very long school holidays

On the Twelfth day of Christmas the Universe gave to me: 
Twelve burnt biscuits

Eleven presents forgotten, Ten loads of washing, Nine Happy Meal Toys, Eight glasses of alcohol, Seven howling tantrums, Six craft activities

Five days of rain, 

Four swollen tonsils, Three ice-skating lessons, Two tired children, and

Very long school holidays

sigh.

Decorating the Tree

So last weekend, with beer in hand and Michael Buble warbling away, we decorated our tree.

Slight issue with star on top

Lights

And the finished result - you can never have too much tinsel
Star got banished to the chimney - we decided it could be the 'guiding light' for Santa or any passing wise men

Home made pressies

Pressies for the teachers.... Four types of homemade soap, and some knitted dishcloths.

Strawberry Mousse - And Clawing Back The Routine

Dessert last night... after a slow-cooked leg of lamb and somewhat firm vegetables because the oven died again (le sigh).

A great big bowl of Strawberry mousse
Strawberries from the garden - eggs from the ladies that morning
Sugar from Coles, origin undisclosed
Low fat cream from Coles and seething in chemicals (yums)

Anyway, quit your salivating, I have important news to announce.

The Routine (the one I'm clawing back) is... working.

Oh dear LORD, are you reading the right blog? Could this be true? Are you about to fall over with delight?? (well I am, about to fall over, with delight, but also because I've got an inner ear infection and my world is going up and down, up and down, ug giddy).

Anyway.  I really thought the routine I was trying to establish was a bit ambitious - but the kids have taken to the change with a good natured willingness that really surprised me.  Of course now its been going for a week or so there is resistance amongst the ranks, but I am squashing the dissent with all the tools I have at my disposal...
This is NOT a democracy, I say, this is a Dictatorship, and anyone, ANYONE, who does not do their chores does not get to open Granny and Grandad's Smurf package on the weekend.

Yes, denial of Smurfs, I am a cruel and heartless monster, this has been pointed out.

Anyhoo.  The routine / chores / indentured servitude still need work, but the first steps have been taken and are a success.  Huzzah.

Next up is tackling the sodding budget, so we have some hope of actually paying off the house before it falls down from old age (or we do), and getting through Christmas with no creddy cards or nervous breakdowns. Yes, I aim high. I know this.

:)

Phew - Survived

Before I start babbling on about what a great day we had I just have to get one thing off my chest.

My mother regifted me.

I KNOW.

Here is the present in question.

I'd seen it used on several occasions and when I unwrapped my present I assumed She'd got me one the same as hers because it was so useful.  Had just launched into freestyle comedy sketch for my sister using it as a bra when She comes in and says, "oh, I gave it a good wash for you."

A good wash?  WTF?

Yes. Turns out she didn't want it any more. So she gave it to me. For Christmas.

Sniff.

But, other than this almighty disappointment we had a fun and fabulous few days.

The run up was brutal, so unbelievably busy and the kids were so excited they were outdoing themselves when it came to being completely evil.  On Christmas eve I was still cooking at 10pm and wrapping at midnight. Hubby and Brother in law were diligently assembling Ikea furniture for the kids - assisted by a very nice merlot - and m'sister who has a 6mo and is currently the most sleep deprived person I have ever met - was in charge of handing around mince pies and the carol collection - sadly I only had kids carols on the ipod so we listened to Six White Boomers many, many times.

Of course it was flaming garbage bin day AGAIN (it seems to be garbage day every Christmas) and so the garbologists came around at 4.30am and woke all the children up. Xmas day on 3 hours sleep. YAWN.

The kids loved their pressies though, and I am loving their new desks.

Now they are both playing happily in their own space now, rather than bickering over the one small table. YAY for family contentment.

The hordes arrived at around 10ish, by which point the kids had unwrapped most of their pressies, ready for the next wave from Grandparents.  Action in the kitchen went into overdrive and just when everyone was about to starve to death lunch was ready.  Lunch continued until 5pm and then the family walk commenced - it's about 200m long, to a nearby lookout.  Family bickering commenced along with the walk as indigestion hit.  It was a beautiful thing to see half the hordes storming back home in a huff and the other half lying on the footpath screaming whilst I got glared at by the neighbours, who were having walks with their well behaved families.

I was devastated when they all went home soon after. Devastated. No really.

The house is totally trashed, but we've got the Sydney to Hobart on the telly and all the leftovers out.  Hubby and I are tag-teaming naps and the kids are trying to break/lose as many of their new toys as possible. Already I have confiscated yo-yos that were being used as weapons and stopped Miss Four In Three Days eating any more bath gel crystals.

Hurray for the festive season and it being over until next year. 364 days to go people. 364 days.

:)

Rash statements

Dear BOM (that's the weatherpeople) its too farking hot. Please rectify at your earliest convenience.  Yours truly C. Nicholas (author).

~~~~~~~

Right.

Christmas shopping assault on Hornsby Mall this morning was wretched hot.  When it gets above 35 or so Westfield air con packs it in and frankly the whole place starts to get a bit niffy.  Like old cheese but with a underlying note of B.O.  Hmm.

Anyway. Aside from scalding off all my tastebuds, both tonsils and a large part of my oesophagus with the tea they serve at Gloria Jeans, the trip was without incident - even had all clothes on the right way in. Yay me. Got pretty much all I needed and when it comes to Christmas I'm saying Bring It On.

This overwhelming burst of confidence has led me to make a few rash statements today, the most amusing so far being... "I want these school holidays to be happy and healthy and for me to look back on it and be sad its over."

Happy?  That's the entire family yelling at each other over the dinner table? Yes?
Healthy? Non stop TV and DVDs and take away every night, right?

Oh, I see you wiping away tears of mirth those with school aged children.  I mean mostly I can barely cope with my children for the weekends and now I have seven weeks ahead of me. SEVEN WEEKS. Nah. It'll be fine. FINE. (halp).

Another rash statement has been, "I'm going on a diet." But I say that so often and I'm so bored by it that I may actually manage it one of those days. And yes, I am aware this attitude is craptacular.  Nobody needs to point that out.  Dieting is just so boring. All the points counting and the fussing about portion sizes and the guilt - OH THE GUILT. Still. I did find myself seriously contemplating one of those fat wobbling machines as a self-birthday present the other day. How appalling was that? I know the theory; exercise and lower calorie intake, there are no shortcuts... but oh if I could just stand there and get it all wobbled off - perhaps whilst I was eating an iced chocolate or something. Mmm. Chocolate.

Sigh.

Then there was, "I'm going to clean the entire house by the end of the weekend." Which I said to my mother. She's coming over on Tuesday to do a pre-Christmas spot check. Oh she of little faith.

Uh OH. Thunderstorm has arrived. Better post this before the power goes...

Ikea - god help me.

So imagine, if you will, heading off to hand in part of your application to do a Masters, and this happens to be at a place you once worked.  Imagine also that you bump into old workmates and see familiar faces. Imagine as you leave you glance at yourself in the reflective window and think, "Christ, who is that over-weight woman? She's got her top on inside out."

Yes. That was how my day started.

Of course, I didn't take the hint and headed on to Ikea with hubby and Miss Nearly Four in tow. NINE DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS.  Look, like that perm I got for my Year 10 formal, It Seemed Like A Good Idea At The Time.

There was a lot of screaming. Not only were meatballs were thrown in the cafeteria, they were also spat. There was fake choking. Fluffy toys were ripped apart with teeth AND THEN we chose to go through the self-service aisle at the end of the whole horrible experience.

Which was mostly fine.

Apart from the woman who queue jumped in front of me pretending she couldn't see me over the gigantic mattress she was wiping out children, harried employees and furniture displays with. The HAG do you realise I stood there fantasising about strangling you with my bare hands - and I was NOT the only one I reckon.   And the security guard who chose to lecture us on the dangers of allowing children to ride on top of trolleys - I mean what sane person stops people who have just made it through the whole Ikea experience and are heading home to discover exactly which bits have not been included in their cardboard box of irritation, and lectures them?

Incidentally Miss Nearly Four has inherited the ape monkey genes from her father and its almost impossible to dislodge from anything unless she chooses to be dislodged.

The whole Ikea thing took 90minutes including the cafeteria tantrum - it felt like SO much longer.

Tomorrow I am going to finish my Christmas shopping if it kills me, or until I kill someone.  My advice is to avoid Hornsby Mall tomorrow. It could get messy.

:)