10 Reasons Mum Lost Her S%#* in December

The countdown to Christmas has well and truly begun; and if the festive movies are anything to be believed, we should be spending the majority of December dancing in snow flurries, shopping with our loved ones and wrapping presents in our slippers sat by the fire, lovingly curling ribbons on our perfect parcels while sipping on a humongous cup of hot chocolate. We should sing carols, snuggle together on the sofa, and our children will be impeccably behaved, safe in the knowledge that good old St Nick will be soon confirming their place on the nice list.

The reality however is far from the case. Here are ten reasons why I’ve already lost my s%#* in December.

1. That bloody Elf. Not only is the elf itself extremely creepy to look at, staring back at you with those slightly glazed beady little eyes, but now we have agreed to let him enter our home, we have committed to a good 5 years worth of 24 days of creative hell every single December. So far this month, I have twice crawled into bed at 11pm only to remember that we haven’t moved the elf from the night before. I considered leaving him and claiming that he’d gone on strike due to bad behaviour, only to then feel guilted into heading downstairs in my dressing gown and spending twenty minutes trying to strategically hang said elf from somewhere around my home without it looking like he is attempting to commit suicide. Easier said than done.
2. The Christmas tree. God bless my beautiful Christmas tree. Every year I look forward to decorating the tree with the girls, us laughing together as we pass each other baubles, working together as a team to spiral round the lights before taking a photo of us smiling away in front of our finished masterpiece. Except it never quite pans out that way. I first spend around twenty minutes detangling a mass of lights, the majority of which do not work, before virtually climbing into my tree whilst trying to arrange them. Not only do the majority of pine needles end up on the carpet before a single bauble has been hung, but I always forget that both of my children are positively elf like on the height front, and as such the ratio of baubles to tree on the bottom two branches leaves a hell of a lot to be desired, resulting in a full on reshuffle once the girls are in bed. In the last 7 days I have continually found baubles and decorations hidden in the girl’s play kitchen, under the sofa and in even in Neve’s cot, with her being attracted to glitter and sparkles somewhat like Gollum from Lord of the Rings. Seven days in, and so bored am I of putting baubles back on the tree, that the majority of the bottom branches are now bare (of both baubles and needles). Thank god we don’t also have a cat.
3. Advent calendars – and to think I used to be happy with a little picture scene behind each door. This year, it appears even chocolates aren’t an acceptable level of excitement for the countdown to Christmas. Oh no. Instead I got cajoled into spending £30 POUNDS on a LOL Surprise calendar with a tiny slither of plastic behind every door, and have spent every single morning over the last 7 days trying to explain to a two year old why she can’t have all 24 of her Peppa Pig characters in one fowl swoop. Despite being fairly confident each day that she has finally grasped the concept and been successfully briefed on the way advent calendars work; groundhog day returns from the moment she wakes and sets sight on the box. Lots of stomping, leg wriggling and distraction required; and that’s just me.
4. Asking my child for some suggestions for Father Christmas; only for her to circle virtually the entire Smyths Toys catalogue, or fold down the corners of every other page. Yes I know I used to do this too, but I am confident that when I did it, it was cute.
5. When one of the items on the Christmas list is a puppy. Explaining to Erin that Father Christmas is not permitted to carry animals on his sleigh due to the excessive speed he travels and the potential impact of zero gravity. Realising that I may have gone into a little more detail than entirely necessary in my elaborate lie, and that it would’ve been easier to simple say “don’t be silly darling, there’s no way you’re having a dog”.
6. Panicking because the one item my eldest has asked for most on her Christmas list is out of stock absolutely everywhere. Trying to explain to her that Father Christmas isn’t always able to locate items if they are very popular, as the shops run out, only for her to respond “It’s ok Mummy, Father Christmas doesn’t get his toys from the shops, the Elves make them” – Doh. Time for Plan B.
7. Trawling the internet for hours, visiting a number of different high street stores and resorting to WANTED’s on facebook buy and sell groups, and considering paying £20 more than the asking price to some mean hearted soul who bought 12 to make a profit, only for Erin to suddenly state “Actually Mummy, I’ve changed my mind”. RAH.
8. Having a slight panic that I have absolutely no idea where I have hidden ANY of the presents I have purchased so far for Christmas with 18 days to go, and as such, have no real clue about the quantity, quality or current where about’s of anything to put under our tree. I can be confident of one thing however… they’re definitely “somewhere safe”.
9. Being told that your child is the most random of characters in the Christmas Nativity, and that I need to send in an elf / sheep / camel / tyrannosaurus rex outfit in the following week, along with the fundraising money, raffle tickets, school trip letter and the obligatory Christmas Jumper. Spending the following week praying that the supermarkets will sell ready made outfits to avoid me getting out a needle and thread, only to find that all the tyrannosaurus rex outfit’s have been snapped up for other nativities across the region. If all else fails, I’m sure the minions and Paw Patrol were present at the birth of Jesus too. 
10. Missing a parcel delivery, whilst collecting a missed parcel delivery. Urgh. And who said shopping online was easier? The post office depot man now says “see you tomorrow” every time I go and collect.

And breattttttthe. It’s day 7 and we’ve got 18 more days of Christmas madness to come. Don’t even get me started on Secret Santa’s, stressful shoppers and building toys till midnight.

I bloody love Christmas, but MAN it’s hard work. What’s the most stressful part of Christmas for you?

Lucy