Stressville

I am riding the Christmas Express to stressville and I am no longer sure why I punish myself every year with the same old antics.

I am exhausted with the lists, the decorations, the spendage, the hiding, the wrapping, the sorting, the everything.

I save really really hard for Christmas otherwise I wouldn't be able to afford it.  Granted, this takes a lot of the stress away.   I then go on a mad spending spree and buy just about everything I can lay my hands on.  My children don't get a lot during the year generally, so I do admit to going a bit mad at Christmas.  I then hide it throughout the property in any nook and cranny that I can find.  How hard is that?  I then have to remember where I have hidden things so as not to be buried alive, in front of the children, by an avalanche of gifts as I inadvertantly open the offending cupboard in front of prying eyes. 

I then have to sort and wrap.  In a haze of lost scissors, sticky tape, a marker pen and a note pad (to tot up the amount of  presents)   Sticky tape makes my hair go static which sticks to my face, which makes me more angry as I search again for the scissors that I just put down and the pen thats rolled under the bed...all the while watching a Virgin Catch Up programme that I have no chance of taking in as I am mostly under the bed finding aforementioned lost pen.   Arrrrrggggghhhhh!

I buy exactly the same amount of presents for all my children.  I don't spend an equal amount. The children do not care about how much money you spend they just care that their brother / sister doesn't get one more than them.  So, this causes me another headache because it is imperative that I get it right.  I cannot have one child with one less present.  Imagine the heartache that would cause...

This year I put up my tree only to find that I didn't  like it anymore.  It looked pathetic, sad and lonely.  So, I made The Husband take me to Homebase to purchase a new 7ft effort.  I also bought new baubles and tinsel.   Did you know that you now have to attach your own thread to the bauble just so you can hang the bloody thing on the bloody tree.  How hard does it all have to become?  In the good old days baubles used to come pre - threaded so you could just "hang and go".  I want "hang and go" back.  The amount of swear words used in our house as we all sat trying to thread bloody thread through the bloody hook on the bloody bauble, was terrible.   It took the fun right out of it.  We all had bauble rage...

Then I have to find time between work and general day to day living to fit in a massive Christmas food shop.  I collect savings stamps throughout the year so my food shop costs me nothing on the day.  I can buy turkey, veg, chocolate, booze, more chocolate, more booze and I don't have to pay a penny.  I always thought saving stamps were a bit cotterish but I wouldn't do it any other way now. I also wonder why I buy two ton of food for two days.  Its idiotic.  But you wouldn't NOT do it!

This Christmas Eve we are all going out for dinner.  The whole family.  So, I will be anxious whilst at the restaurant worrying whether , when I finally get home, I will have enough time to take the mountain of presents down the stairs to make it look like Father Christmas did visit.   Then I drink too much to counteract the stress, get a bit squiffy, spend far too much time giggling at the absurdity of it all and not enough time half eating the carrot, spilling the milk on the floor and smashing up the mince pie all in the name of Father Christmas.

Stockings all need to be quietly placed in all rooms to ensure no one is woken up.  And I have had a drink, and I am giggling more as I stumble about throwing stockings everywhere. We then work like a little conveyor belt lugging the presents from the bedroom to their final destination in the lounge. 

When its all done and you finally sit down exhausted and tipsy, you take stock.

The reason we do it is the look of pure excitement the children give you when they realise on Christmas morning that "he" has been, squeals of delight from them when they open their gifts.  The peace and quiet for five minutes whilst they enjoy playing with their presents.  The chat and laughter when you all sit down for Christmas dinner, wearing stupid paper hats, enjoying the crap plastic toys from the cracker, pretend laughing at the cracker jokes and eating far too much food.   The evening, slumped, full of food and drink, in the lounge playing Charades (or as we still call it "Give us a clue"....)

THATS why I do it.  THATS why I love it. 

I love being on the Christmas Express to stressville.  I don't want to get off...