Christmas 2014 Notes to Self.

By the time this is read we’ll be out the other side of Christmas and, I imagine, holidaying in our respective camping or beach spots around the country.

But before I completely shut off from festive-mode there’s a few “notes to self for Christmas 2014” I need to record while they’re still fresh.

1. Come up with a looooong list of ways to entertain the kids on Christmas Eve. While the boys weren’t too bad at amusing themselves, Miss Five drove me nuts with her excitement. This included getting Santa’s beer, snack and note ready at 8am (I hope he liked his beverage at room temperature), and pouring Rudolph’s water in a bucket and labeling it with a picture of a reindeer, just in case he missed it. Which begged the question from Master Five – How were we going to get it on the roof?

The day dragged - By 10am we’d walked up to the dvd shop, by midday they’d watched their Christmas dvd and so I resorted to letting them get out their Christmas “stockings” early and leave them out on their beds. When I next went downstairs, there they were – dutifully lined up on their MADE beds! But once I got past this astonishing sight I was momentarily stunned by my own stupidity for buying such ridiculously large Santa sacks. How on earth was I going to fill these up?!

Next on the list was making the frozen Christmas cake ice cream that an increasingly-bored Miss Five helped with, which brings me to number two:

2. Don’t be so heavy-handed on the alcohol which goes in this;

3. Likewise with the egg nogg. Earlier in the week I’d looked up the recipe and, according to Martha Stuart, you need milk, eggs, sugar, cream and nutmeg. Then, if you wish, add the alcohol of your choice. I’d decided she’d got this all wrong and, according to my recipe, you added all the alcohol in your cupboard, then the other five ingredients before serving it up to your family.

Even I had to admit this year’s mix was a little strong;

4. When you think the kids are asleep and it’s time to dump all the presents you’ve acquired over the year on the floor to sort into piles for wrapping – they’re not;

5. Don’t dispose of Santa and Rudoph’s snacks too early for this reason;

6. Keeping them up late never guarantees a sleep-in;

7. Always have scissors on hand to cut off all the annoying packaging;

8. Always have batteries on hand for the new toys;

9. Always give each kid the same amount of presents for they will count them;

 And lastly:

10. When you get those annoying last-minute Secret Santa requests when you think you’ve completed your Christmas shopping and can’t be fecked going back into town on Christmas Eve so wrap up some crap from around your house instead, make sure it’s not something someone who is likely to be present has given you a previous year. Awkward.

Apart from that I wouldn’t change a thing.

Have a great holiday.

School's Out

School’s out for summer and lucky us! I don’t know about yours but, these past few weeks, mine have been little horrors.

Apparently we’re to put it down to a combination of end-of-year tiredness and the nuttiness spring inflicted.

If you take Master Seven out of the equation the twins get along fine but this week something overcame them and out broke World War Three.

Usually when the kids fight it’s contagious and can kill the best of moods but on Tuesday morning their scrapping had gone beyond that and was just plain entertaining. In fact, Master Seven who, for once, had nothing to do with it, and I actually took seats to watch.

It started when they woke up. One can never do so without waking the other. One by one, they pile into my room but three of them in the bed never works. They all want to lie next to mummy so then one has to lie on top which means clambering over a sibling to get there and this is when the battle begins.

In the end, I push them all out of bed - if one hasn’t already stormed off with the pip - and go on my way.

The next fight usually breaks out over breakfast over who gets the most yummy bits in the cereal. And so it goes on with Master Seven usually instigating it.

But this day he’d done all his chores and was sitting contently watching tv when I came upstairs to sunscreen everyone.

I’d heard a bit of commotion and found Miss Five taunting Master Five with him getting increasingly agitated. Finally he exploded and gave chase, fist raised.

Miss Five ran downstairs to their room where he must’ve lashed out. But this didn’t stop her. He returned upstairs with her hot on his heels still teasing him. In retaliation he swung, what should have been a good one, sending him spinning in a full circle before collapsing on the floor and totally missing his target. This was so unco it was comical and Master Seven and I, who had been watching on in amusement, sniggered. So then of course, Miss Five, who saw a chance for revenge, joined in.

This made an embarrassed Master Five furious and he got up and clobbered her one. Then, of course, the tears came. This doesn’t sound fair in hingsight but Master Five got sent to the naughty stair where I promptly forgot about him while I dealt with Miss Five who’d barricaded herself in her room. Because I had little sympathy, by now she was in a right fouler and this made getting her sunscreen on harder than ever. A difficult task at the best of times with her being ticklish, it got smeared all down her shirt and through her hair but by then she was giggling despite herself. Soon after, I discovered her brother still sitting on the naughty stair and he’d calmed right down too.

This was all before 8am and there’s six weeks before school re-starts. Like I said, lucky us.

Reptiles and Insects

Forget “T’is the Season to be Jolly” – round here, it’s the season for reptiles and insects.

Lizards keep making an appearance on a regular basis courtesy of our two cats. One, in particular, takes great joy in bringing them in, dropping them down and then ‘forgetting’ they are there. It’s all part of the game but, the trouble is, he’s so flippin’ useless at it, they always escape and usually into a floor-level cupboard.

Then the kids and I start the usual pulling everything out and searching for it. Actually, I tentatively pull everything out and search for it while the kids watch on wide-eyed, like some fascinating freak show is unfolding before their eyes.

It probably never would’ve occurred to them to fear these creatures had they not witnessed my reaction.

One Friday a friend and I were having a celebratory ‘I survived the week’ glass of bubbles after school, as you do, while the kids ran rampant throughout the house. Everything was going swimmingly until Master Seven raced up and dropped half a wriggling lizard next to my wine glass. Did you hear that?! HALF a WRIGGLING lizard!

I, of course, reacted like Scooby Doo chancing upon a ghost and have never left my bar stool quicker.

I shot across to the other side of the kitchen while Master Seven, bemused, looked from me to my friend, who had the opposite reaction and was sitting rooted to the spot with her hands covering her mouth.

“Take that THING off my bench,” I finally managed, watching it writhe before our eyes.

“And where is the other half?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Master Seven shrugged nonchalantly before picking up the tail and walking off.

I didn’t see where he went with it as I was too busy wondering the best way to sterilize the bench.

That incident was right up there with the live mouse being delivered to me in bed during rodent season. I won’t even go there with the huge weta which landed on my head one night.

The latest incident was the giant insect which I had to get out of the house the other evening – I’m still unsure if it was a cockroach or a huhu bug but had I known those things could fly I would never have attempted it.

It did not end well. In a scene reminiscent to Our World, but in my own lounge, I watched from a distance as the cat attempted to eat it alive, managing to detach two legs and half a wing before it blunderingly and crazily took off – towards me!

After a fair amount of screaming I calmed down and bravely, and might I say, rather heroically, caught the invader in a container before throwing the whole thing out the sliding door.

But, alas, I was not fast enough in shutting the door and it flew straight back in towards the light.

Round two and I succeeded but it took the night’s sleep offa me, that one.

Decorating the Xmas Tree

I stuck to my plan and abandoned chocolate advent calendars in light of the fiasco with our resident thief last year.

Instead I got semi-creative and came up with notes for each day of December for the kids to open. Most of them weren’t that exciting – coming up with 24 ideas for each day hurt my brain so the kids were in for a disappointment. Still I threw a couple of chocolates in on two of the days just to keep the anticipation up.

First up on December 1 was decorating the Christmas tree. This one proved a winner. Come five-whatever-it-was a.m. the kids were jumping on me and bouncing up and down with excitement while I wished they weren’t so clever in guessing that one in advance.

“Look, we’ll do it after morning tea,” I said, shuddering at the memory of last year’s all day decorating effort.

By 7am, when many would still have their well-trained little ones sleeping, mine were already asking if it was morning tea time. Finally at 9am I caved to morning tea and the decorating.

Our tree is rather large so erecting it, in itself, takes some time. But that didn’t deter them from hopping up and down, trying to hang decorations off its still-scrunched-up-from-the-box branches with me floundering around underneath.

This is supposed to be a happy occasion, I reminded myself through gritted teeth and put on some Christmas carols. 

I gave up trying to get the tree to stand straight so, with it resembling the Leaning Tower of Pisa, I let the kids go wild. While I strung lights all around the house, they took off to deck out their rooms with random decorations and soon there was a thick layer of tinsel everywhere. 

Finally several hours later, I stepped back to admire our work. Sure enough it was done up like a dog’s dinner and with the precarious lean, all it would take was for the cat to do her usual party trick and leap into its branches for the whole thing to topple over.

Still, as predicted, I was over it so took some time out.

That night with the kids in bed I sat across the room from the higgledy-piggledy tree and had an internal dilemma. I should be one of those good parents who leaves it as the children have decorated it but the pedantic side of me wanted the decorations more strategically-placed.

In the end the anal side won out. With a burst of energy, I was off the couch and re-arranging, and I fixed the lean while I was at it. After-all, I had 24 more days of this temptation.

Now I just had to hope no one noticed in the moming. But I needn’t have worried – they were far too distracted with opening the next day’s message. However, it was a dud: “Do one nice things for your siblings.” This put them in foul moods and they were worse to each other than ever.

Bring on the chocolate day.

Sleepovers

How could I have forgotten? Sleepovers aren’t fun for the adult and they equal tired, grumpy kids the next day. Actually make that diabolical monsters.

Of course they were never going to sleep without getting the giggles, trashing their room, then having a falling out, in that order – with ten million growlings thrown in amongst it.

It seemed like a good idea over a few wines when Miss Sixes mother and I organised for her daughter to have a sleepover with Miss Five.

The two got on well enough. I’d let them sleep downstairs in the kids' lounge, got everyone to bed and just settled upstairs when it started. The thundering on the stairs that is.

The first child popped up.

“Mum, I can hear the girls talking and I think they’re out of bed.”

“Thank you but you’re out of bed right now so do you think that’s any better?”

Master Seven slunk back down to his room.

Stomp, stomp, stomp, up pops Master Five.

“Mum, they just snuck upstairs into my room.”

I sent him back to bed and went down to investigate.

“Shhh, your mum’s coming,” (giggle, giggle.)

All, of course, was still by the time I got down the bottom floor. I’ve long given up trying to sneak up on the kids and catch them out – the creaky stairs gives it away every time.

A reprimand followed, along with several subsequent trips. Next it was the girls turn to bowl upstairs.

“Oh what now?!” I finally exploded.

They actually recoiled in fear.

“W-w-we’re scared downstairs,” Miss Five whimpered. “We’re scared of baddies.”

“And we’re scared of your mean cat that attacks girls,” spoke up Miss Six (another story).

“We want to sleep upstairs,” they finished.

“Well that’s not going to happen because your brother is already asleep in your room so there’s no room.”

I sent them back down with their tails between their legs and returned to Packed to the Rafters.

In the ad break I could still hear them. By now it was nearly 9pm, Miss Five had a school trip the next day and Miss Six a Pippin’s event. I stomped back downstairs, grabbed the spare mattress and dragged it upstairs. I had turned into a dragon and was dreading what Miss Six would go home and tell her mother.

However, all must’ve been forgiven for, come 6am the next day, she waltzed into my room with the others.

The following night, while my friend and I were dealing with our respective beside-themselves daughters, the oldest had a friend over.

“Now you’re not going to carry on like your sister did last night are you?” I had pre-warned.

He swore he wouldn’t. Whatever. They carried on in much the same manner until 10pm before I found him upstairs alone in his own bed and asked why.

It turns out they’d had a falling out after one hassled the other about girlfriends. No matter, they went straight to sleep and their BFF relationship was back on in the morning – at 5.38am no less!

As Murphy’s Law would have it, my one glimmer of hope that I’d be granted a mini sleep-in the following morning did not come to fruition. Instead I had three little monsters to deal with after school.