It Just Wouldn't Be Christmas

29 December 2010

It has been a pretty crazy week. Not too much different to every Christmas which has ever been though. If it isn't hectic, time constrained and stressful and if you aren't left feeling overly stuffed, exhausted and ready to scream at someone, then it just wouldn't be Christmas – would it?

Our party on Christmas eve was a big success. Everyone was very impressed by the gazebo and I may have a couple of orders for the summer. It seems that it is just what the neighbours have been looking for, for their garden. Claire has also managed to pick up a client for landscaping. It seems that she is hoping to kick off with her self employment come the new year.

My headache on Christmas morning was pretty much second to none. I felt really ill and woke to a huge mess. Claire had dragged herself out of bed at 5.30am (bear in mind that we went to bed at 2.45am) and had started tidying the house and garden and had sorted out the kids presents and stockings. I don't know how she does it, because later that morning the turkey was in the oven and I was sat on the couch trying out hair of dog as a hangover cure.

The kids presents went down a storm. We picked up the Kinect as a family present and it turns out that my daughter is better than I am. Ethan is still a little young, but time will tell. They pick up on these things so quickly now days.

So Christmas day passed without incident. We all had an early night to prepare ourselves for the onslaught which is my family on Boxing day. The drive there was horrendous, but that is the M25 for you. But we arrived early afternoon and had yet another Christmas dinner.

This meal quickly descended into arguments between my brother and I about his crappy present giving skills (vouchers again...) and he commented that I probably didn't even buy his (he was right...). Mum sided with my brother and Dad just kept quiet. In the end we all went to bed exhausted and overwrought. I even vowed never to have another Christmas with my family again.

All was forgotten by the morning and I even managed to help my Dad with his door which wouldn't shut and put up a new shelf for my mum in the kitchen. As long as I can busy myself with a little DIY I can stay pretty much calm.

So since then we have been enjoying a little peace and quiet at home. I got the floor laid in the downstairs toilet (better late than never) and we have been spending the vouchers supplied by my brother on some new bedding for our room.

So I guess that it was no different to any Christmas we have had at any time in the last few years. Too much travelling, too much apologising for drinking too much and making an arse of yourself and plenty of not appreciating the small joys of kids faces and time with family. Maybe next year we will actually notice the small things and stop complaining about nothing. But I don't hold out much hope!