It’s getting closer and closer to Christmas.
It’s a time of dread during the lead in time, and all the energy spent on planning and organising is immense. We are all expected to be organised with presents and cards, and children’s nativities, plays and parties.
I have studiously filled in the diary each time my children brought home some new note from school telling us what the next activity is. In one weekend this month, we have three childrens parties to fit in at opposite ends of the town, and they are not parties that we can miss. One is a birthday party for one of my sons, and the other two are for clubs that they attend during the year. That is bad planning.
My children are at two different schools and that brings another new challenge. Both schools are staging nativities at the same time, so I need to cut me in half for that event, or face child wrath if someone does not appear for them. Half a frazzled mum is better than none, and the costumes have to be in by Monday (note to self to get them ready before Sunday night).
I know I will make myself ill in the next three weeks planning and organising what is expected, and I will drop one of the balls jugging in the air somewhere, but I will not regret a single moment of it.
Waking up on Christmas morning and seeing three happy faces, opening up presents, enjoying the moment and staying at home to enjoy their presents makes it all worth while.
We decided long ago that we would stay at home on Christmas Day. If anyone wants to join us, they are free to do so, but we will not accept anyone else’s invitation to go to theirs. (If Take That send us free tickets to watch a charity concert on Christmas Day, I might just be persuaded to review that statement)
How many other people find Christmas as stressful as I do is something that freqently crosses my mind. Maybe this year I will find out on twitter.