Happy New Year to you all and welcome to Mummy Misfit’s post-Christmas whinge!
Go on, admit it, I bet you’re all feeling a bit ‘bleurgh’ too? I’ve been told it’s the Christmas come-down and every year I swear it won’t get me but it always manages to sneak up and grab me from behind.
The decorations are down, the house looks sad and naked and the dark mornings drag us from our cosy beds. Instead of being grateful for the lovely time we’ve had over the break we focus on the negatives - back to routine, the worst of the weather to come and no more late nights during the week.
So here’s my account of the typical Post-Christmas Crash in the Misfit household.
We’ll always need to return to a shop (or several) on the day after Boxing Day to replace the duff items. This year resulted in a trip to Tesco with a faulty portable DVD player. A solitary member of staff on the electrical counter meant a half hour queue - this resulted in ‘Cranky Mummy’. We were then told that the DVD player was out of stock - one refund, one even crankier mummy and one stroppy teen later, we left the shop.
The Christmas decorations never fit back in the cupboard from whence they came. EVER! We always talk about discarding old baubles and tinsel but we never do - ‘you just never know when you might need them’. Hence, jam-packed cupboard. This year we mislaid our ‘wise chicken’ (a long story but one of our wise men went AWOL years ago and had to be replaced!) only to find said chicken up the fairy’s dress when we took the tree down.
I spend the whole of Christmas being really good and avoiding all the chocolates and biscuits in the house and then on the 2nd January I become like a woman possessed - no sweets are safe. I then feel sick and annoyed with myself but by then my body has a taste for them and I’m out of control until the house is cleared.
I spend from the 2nd January as ‘naggy mummy’. Son has enjoyed his break a little too much and homework is languishing in his dumped ruck sack. I waver between ‘Oh just let him sort it out himself’ and ‘But I’m the mother, I’m meant to nag’. Then I become as flippant as him. Just yesterday, when he finally attempted a French essay, he found he was four words short of his target. “Just end it with ‘ee-haw-ee-haw’” I told him in my best French accent, through a mouthful of Green and Blacks.
I find I’m so determined to enjoy the last of the Christmas hols that I can never seem to get myself to bed. One more glass of wine, one more CD, one more daft game with hubbie or another song on Guitar Hero and before you know it, it’s 1 a.m. This means we all sleep in and then I get annoyed because half the day’s gone. Of course, this change in routine makes it even more difficult when the early mornings are upon us and I rise from my bed slug-like, cursing and moaning.
To lift myself from the doldrums, I begin to look ahead to my birthday in February. A friend has already offered to host it for me so I have something to look forward to. Then I think “Ugh, another year older, another year closer to 50!” Trying to stay positive, I decide “Ooh, I’ll grow my hair, have a new style.” This is always met with a “No” from hubbie. He likes me just the way I am - this is touching but boring. Then I decide I’ll go for a change of dress sense - I end up talking myself out of this one because I know, deep down, I’m a leggings/jeans and boots girl with an occasional dress for special events. Boring, boring, boring! Although I do plan to win the lottery and buy as many pairs of boots as is socially acceptable.
After the initial clean up of the house when the decorations come down, I vow to keep the chores up to date. I’ll never be a Stepford wife but I’d like to get in to some sort of routine. This falls into a heap by day two - I’m a Mummy Misfit, what more can I say?
I dabble with the idea of taking up a new hobby. Ball room dancing? (I will go on ‘Strictly’ one day). Am-dram? Then I think, “Who am I kidding, between writing/promoting, caring for my elderly mother and teenage son, being the perfect wife (!) and social butterfly, I don’t have time to scratch.” Besides, it would interfere with the pile of books I plan to get through this week!
Really, deep down, I’m happy with my lot. Spring is just around the corner and I think it will be an exciting year for me as a writer. I can’t complain that I’ve nothing to keep me occupied and, if things get really miserable, there’s always next Christmas to look forward to!