Two reasons I may keep my girl even as teenagerdom looms.

* Last weekend we were helping the elf bomit Christmas over the hallway, Princess Curly-Wurly was in charge of thumbtack distribution. After several minutes she looked up at me and said
" Ha! I know who I am now." (really? I had no idea there was an existential crisis happening in your young mind. And why is that funny?)
Holding the tinsel in place with one hand I stretched out the other for a tack.
"Oh and who are you?"
Grinning she passed me a pin and said "I'm P-Dub Pin Laden!"

*Friday morning after the alarm went off too early Princess Curly-Wurly, along with my assistant, climbed into our bed. We lay there all warm and snuggled against the bitter cold outside, listening to the radio news. After a few minutes she turned to me and said
"You know what this B.A. strike really is don't you?"
"oh go on, do tell."
"It is the 12 Days OFF Christmas!!"

Like The Queen must think toilets always smell of fresh paint ....

... dentists must think everyone's mouth smells super minty fresh.

The real joy in presents.

I can now categorically state that now matter how much I love opening presents I actually love gifting the right something to the right someone even more.

December brings not just Christmas (Santa - Yay!!! Oh okay and some religious connotations but these need to be recognised as pre-Christian in origin. 'K Mama???) but also Sylv's birthday. It was hard enough coming up with a Christmas present for her (oh but we got a cracker!) as well as something to send her husband, Grandad (what happened to it is a whole other post) but then I had to think of a birthday present. As you may recall part of last year's Great Trip Home was to celebrate Sylv attaining the fine age of 'ahem-ty' and quite honestly she has no more need of anything. Please do not misunderstand me there is LOADS she wants (who doesn't??) but what?

Oh the delights of blog-hopping. I found just what I wanted at the delicious and divine Ink & Spindle . Last year Sylv got an uber-whizzy sewing machine, a quilter's delight by all accounts, and the fabulous collaboration between between Sooz and the I&S mob was just begging to be given a test drive. One click quick of the mouse, a brief diversion to Paypal and WHAM!! the gift was on its way.

Through a very crackly line last Sunday I told Sylv to watch out for a parcel from Melbourne, it contained her birthday present. I rang this a.m. to find if it had arrived yet.

"Oh! Was that from you? There was no label or anything but we have had a lovely time at sewing coming up with ideas for an outer fabric."

"Yes, it was from us - Happy Birthday!" (thinking 'I told you it was coming, you shouldn't have opened it yet!')

After explaining who Ink & Spindle were Sylv and I blog-shopped together, ooohing & aaaahing over the beautiful fabric patterns and colours. Choosing one as a favourite and then another. Suggesting, mulling and planning. With 12,000 miles between us (usually) over the last 20 years we haven't spent many hours shopping together so this morning was special. A lovely shared moment which left me feeling a little emotional. Not in a cry-y way but just with a lovely warm glow that I had introduced my mother to this lovely shop and she would get to choose something lovely to celebrate her 'ahem-ty-first' birthday.

Perhaps the ultimate Catch-22?

In the car on the way home from school on Friday destructoBoy said

"I don't like going up steep hills. Can we not drive up a hill to get home today?"

Right before schadenfreude* turns around and bites me in the arse.

On reflection I am beginning to think perhaps I have this Christmas thing sussed.

Don't get me wrong. Presents still need to be found (and identified for CK - aaak!) and cards written and actually sent. But this weekend we have hung lights, advent calender, shiny dangly accordion stylee decorations and tinsel.

I am not a particularly fussy type person, I think this is an accepted given, but I always decorate the Christmas tree.

For years the reason has been the kids were too young and some of the ornaments made when they were really little, these are just too fragile for all but the most tender touch. Truth? I claimed it as my own and defended my position valiantly. However this year the reins were passed across and now our Christmas tree and hallway look like an elf has bomited Christmas at high velocity.

For some reason they focussed on a single quadrant of the tree but it was done with discussion and suggestion rather than argument so I let them get on with it. The most heat came when trying to figure out whose angel was due to go on top this year. Next time I looked destructoBoy's 'staff of power' from last week's school play was firmly ensconced. Somewhat disconcerting as I type I must say.

It has been a real adventure opening the boxes of decorations, two years since we last had the opportunity. Obviously there was no point making the house all festive last year for my bastard b-i-l.

In all it was a (mostly) pleasant way of spending a weekend; once the house had been restored to some semblance of order it ended with all of us sitting together laughing our way through 'Elf'.







*schadenfreude ISN'T the word I want but the one I am after is rolling around on the edges of my consciousness. Anyone???