Great Expectations...

So how was it for you? Xmas that is? Did Santa deliver? Were your high expectations met? Did you feel that the christmassy moment buried deep within your heart spilled out and overflowed with goodwill to all? No? me neither.

Two nights ago I was at the DVD store (I still call it the Video store but whatever) chatting to the welcoming geek behind the counter - his words not mine - about our respective Xmasses. His was 'horror.' Mine was fine. Husband cooked a lovely meal. Sproglet got more toys (great - all 'musical') than you could shake a stick at, we lit the fire, drank champagne, stuffed our faces, ate too much chocolate, played on the Wii and all politely had a good time. There was nothing wrong, not even the usual friction that is obligatory between my Mother and I - but it just didn't fill my heart with exploding joy - and why should it? Thing is, every year we work ourselves into a frenzy of 'must have perfect house, great gifts, good food, there must be laughter and cheer and ... and... and... everything!!!' But does the day itself ever deliver? Has it ever really since we spotted Dad under the tree rearranging Santa deliveries?? Video store boy spent it with his dad's new family and his step-siblings who are like something straight out of Deliverance. He recoiled in shock as he spoke of his step-bro's racism and homophobia (a closet if ever there was one it sounds) and his miserable step-sis who wouldn't even speak - perhaps a blessing. The poor lad looked distraught as he told of his descent into the abyss of depression on 'the happiest day of the year.'

My new year's motto is to have less expectation that everything will turn into a Hallmark card just because it is meant to. I plan to stress way less. I'm not quite sure how to achieve this yet - but I am determined to try. My life has become an OCD stressathon where I worry about the house, my finances, my son's development, what to have for dinner, does my boss like me, can I do my job, when to replace the dripping fridge, do I need petrol, have I remembered so and so's b'day, will I make it to the nursery on time - every day. I need to give myself a break - chill a bit - just accept things and move on. I have turned into Bree Vandercamp without the glossy hair - and it is frightening!

So that coupled with a pledge to lose the 10 pounds that have settled comfortably on my hips and tummy - are my resolutions. I know it is so goddamn tiresome to have them as they are there to be broken - but as much as I loathe new year (high expectation event if ever there was one) it is a time to wave goodbaye to bad habits, shitty years, unmended hearts etc - and focus on today. Not even tomorrow. Maybe watching sproglet's Kung Fu Panda for the millionth time since Xmas is rubbing off on me...

Have a good one - see you on the other side. Oh last one - to blog more often - promise!

I am alive - just!!

I have not died. I am still crummy. But Sproglet knocked the laptop off the sofa and we have been without one for about 6 weeks now. After haggling and more haggling and er... getting nowhere with those lovely insurance folk at Axa - we are getting a new laptop next week... I will rejoin the cyber world again...

It has been manic manic manic MANIC at work and what with Xmas (oh god - it should be bi-annual no?) and small child and gift shopping and Relate and wrapping gifts and buying chairs and hen dos (am too old for that kind of malarkey now) I haven't had a chance to write.

So this is a simple - hello - I am here, well, frazzled and will be back for a pre-Xmas rant if possible. Promise it'll be a goodie.

Is it wrong that we have bought Sproglet a dance mat - as his sense of rhythm is kind of like a slo-mo Stevie Wonder crossed with acid user - purely to laugh at... I mean with him?

So... have a great chrimble - hope you survive it and my tip is just to drink through it - and don't miss EastEnders (natch).

Must dash I have something to stuff, wrap, wipe or decorate...

X