It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like...Panic

I am writing this blog post in the middle of the night. Something which I don't think I have EVER done before. It started off with a simple thought of "oh mustn't forget to get my son's narrator outfit out in the morning" followed by a "sh*t I need to do something with the Elf on a Shelf on Friday" ending with "DID I PAY FOR THE CHRISTMAS DISCO?!". There is no way around it. The festive season when you have little ones is manic. In fact the festive season when you have school aged children is hardcore. Of course yes it's magical blah blah, making memories blah blah, but at the moment I can't see the wood for the overpriced advent calendars.

On top of the general mayhem of after school. You know that bit where everyone is hangry and livid, followed by homework projects (FU Florence Nightingale and phonics), then there is violin practice, Rainbows, guinea pigs, dogs, reading, someone being "overtired" (aka a bit of an arse). There are whole other elements added on. A million letters to read through about Christmas jumper days, an unreasonably early in the season Christmas Disco, trying to get time off work for Nativity's, Christmas Fairs and writing approximately 206631 teeny tiny cards. Shuddering knowing your house will be full of 1093523 of them come December 20th.

And that's just all the school stuff. Then there's the Christmas lists, buying presents, hiding presents, trying to wrap presents in a ninja style whilst no-one is looking. Panicking when random toys are added on to 'the list' that were never mentioned before. Booking trips to see Santa and then worrying if it's not going to be magical enough. That bit where you have to kindly explain to your son that yes he's not usually allowed chocolate before school and no he can't just open all the days on the first go. And please stop crying as IT IS CHRISTMAS AND THIS IS MEANT TO BE FUN FFS.

I know I sound all a bit bah humbug and I truly love the festive season. I really do. But at some points it feels like I am missing all the good bits like snuggling watching Elf to construct a cat outfit (?) for a Year 2 Nativity. Whilst trying to get a small boy to understand no he can't just wear jeans and a hoody for his part of the narrator. I'm also getting in a teeny tiny bit of a pickle about all the lies I've told about Father Christmas. Or is it Santa. WHAT DO WE EVEN CALL HIM NOW?

So this early morning blog post serves no purpose to just say to you that I am in the same position. I am regretting saying I would do Elf on a Shelf this year. I have no clue if my son will actually say his two lines in the nativity or look at me and pick his nose. I feel immense guilt I am refusing to buy my daughter a Luvabella doll (sounds like a fancy name for vagina) and I am experiencing the same terror as you. Unless non of you are feeling terror and you know I am just a bit crap. Either way Christmas will be magical. We are making memories and god bless Baileys. Helping Mum's get through the festive season since it was created...

...PS he will ALWAYS be Father Christmas to me.
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