Tag: xmas

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“Shhhhh fir Santa” Christmas Doric Poem

It’ll seen be time fir christmas
Time fir abody tae say
Hud yer weesht, it’s gettin late
Shut them peepers at end o the day

But, seen as yer ma’s heids hits e hay
Ye teeter oot o yer covers an mair
Yer lugs wirk sae hard, they shiver
An hush as ye go, near tae at door

Creepin doon yon steps fair sleekit
Teetin roun an roun, yer een openin wi frite
Shhhhhh em bells tinkle an jinngle
Ye look thru windae panes, an clap yer haun tae yer muth

A sleigh skiffs by, unner yer nose
Wi a flash fae rudolph, winkin is een
Shh lik a moose, scurry an shimmer
Up tae yer bed, afore santa slips doon yer lum

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Run up to Christmas

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.

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Christmas is coming – Here we gooooooooo snow.

It’s here.  The first flush of snow.  Nothing signals the coming of Christmas quite like the first real snowfall.   This is nothing like the snow of two weeks ago that was a light dusting on the ground overnight, which was then to disappear by 10am

Today has been rip roaring lovely white snow with big flakes.  The kind of snow that is pretty to watch, and children just love to play in.  We do lots of sledging in the snow when it comes, so today is not the best day for it to happen. 

It’s a school day, and as all the children come out of school, there will be snowballs a plenty, whizzing by parents heads as they wait for their own little cherubs to come out of school.

For my own boys, It will mean that by the time they reach me, they will be soaked through to the skin.  I have two very hyperactive boys to pick up, and they will use the slope to get out of the school playground instead of the path that winds to the top (as boys do).  They will both slip many times on the way up the slope, and end up on hands and knees in the slushy snow (which by this time will be mixed in with the mud slurry that used to once be a grassy slope).

They will of course, have their jackets stuffed into their schoolbags, which will be bursting at the zips to stay closed, and their hats will be at the bottom of their bags, along with the half open, and spilling trail of a bottles of water that they are required to take to school every day, but which get used at playtimes as water pistols, or mud dubs makers.  They will, however, have managed to fish out their gloves from the other eclectic mix festering at the bottom of their schoolbags so that they can throw snowballs.

When we get home, there will be a quick change out of soaking school clothes into fresh play clothes, which will also be soaking wet half an hour later by the time son number three arrives home, and then they’ll want to go out again.  They have perfectly good salopettes in the cupboard, but think it’s not cool to wear them unless they are sledging.   More wet clothes.

There has been just enough snow for their Costco bodyboard sledges to go bombing down the big hill at the back of the house, but sadly, mum here does not have the time to take them until Friday after school.  This will be a huge #mumfail, but I’ve got the carrots out and ready for them to make this years first snowman.

And I will be the one out there throwing snowballs at my little cherubs while they roll the snow to make that snowman, before I need to get changed and go to a parent council meeting at the school.  Cue more changes of clothes.

TIme for my washing machine to really see what it is made of this year.  It’s a new one, but can it cope with a scottish winter??