On Christmas Eve the puppy is found in The Teenager’s bedroom eating chocolate.  Around six bars are missing, presumed consumed. Half an hour later she returns the chocolate, in the back garden, in an enormous puking spree.

You are grateful for small mercies when your children wake you at 7am to open their presents.  Even more so when you get a text from Teacher Friend, Mother of 3 saying that her eldest woke at 2.45am.

The 7 year opened her smallest present first, and on discovering a much wanted ipod shuffle declared it the best Christmas ever.

You wonder how it is possible that you only had to untie/cut and hack one present out of it’s box, for the children, with it’s ridiculous ties.  You consider contacting The Guinness World Records to see if you qualify for an entry in the 2012 book.

When Gramps and my Stepmum arrive bearing gifts on Christmas morning, the 5 year old, rather rudely ignores his present of an army tank and action man.  I thought he was being ungrateful, it turns out he was suffering present fatigue.  Later at bedtime he sleeps with his tank next to his pillow and a rather disgruntled looking Action Man in his arms.

The six foot folding slate bed pool/snooker table, that Father Christmas bought from ebay for £30, was a fantastic purchase.  Set up in the playroom  people play throughout the day.  At one point all 14 members of the Christmas Dinner party were in there.

I  discover that the 5 year old thinks that Bono and Sting’s classic ‘Feed The World’ song is actually ‘Beaver World’.  It tickles me all day making the fact that the CD is on repeat all day more bearable.

Every year Grandma makes a trifle. This year she arrives with a half formed trifle because there had been ‘A Great Custard Shortage’. I’m sure you must have heard about it because we all did.  We manage to rib Grandma about the custard shortage for the remainder of the day.

It only takes four hours for a 5 year old to be irreversibly addicted to an XBOX.

Someone gives the 5 year old a Vuvuzela as a gift.  I am yet to find out who it was.  It was a stealth gift from the seventh circle of hell.  Every time he visits a relative I shall send it with him until someone breaks and admits guilt.

My Sister’s homemade orange liqueur looks like a urine sample from someone who has been stranded in a desert for three weeks.  It tastes like flat Fanta.  This seemed to please everyone else who enjoys her offering.  I stick to gin.

Despite the dishwasher being broken, The Husband’s constant taunts that he’s going to use every utensil in the cooking process and my anxiety dreams the washing up isn’t really a problem.  I secretly enjoy washing up, finding it therapeutic and it’s amazing what a teenager will tell you when they are unable to walk away due to a tea towel anchor.

When The Teenager announces on Twitter that she has drunk alcohol for 5 consecutive days you wonder what went wrong, but are pleased that you were only technically responsible for her for one of those days.

On Christmas Day night one of the teenagers decides that we should watch Get Him To The Greek.  This results in three adults hiding their faces at the incredibly rude bits … of which there are several.

For the first time in ten years we have no plans for Boxing Day. We lay about, do a bit of sitting around and just forget about time.  We play on the XBOX, play pool and watch films. This means that at 3pm we realise that the children have missed lunch.  Their chocolate moustaches indicate that they’ve not gone hungry.

Waiting until the children are in bed to play the ‘over 12′ XBOX games results in someone playing Halo and shouting ‘Die motherf*cker’ whilst The Teenager looks on with a mixture of embarrassment and awe.  That someone might have been me.

This year, though, I have found My List Is Here which lets me build lists from over 500,000 products across more than 300 high street and online stores (including Selfridges, Debenhams, Play.com, Gap and Vodafone).

I signed up (easy peasy) and started building my Christmas wish list. I can even add hilarious notes for people next to each item, for extra hinting purposes.  Here is my list. You’ll see I’m not asking for much, but what I am asking for is something that I DEFINITELY want and need.

If you’re buying a new home, planning a wedding or birthday the possibilities are endless. I’m planning on starting up a ‘dream home’ list … all the things I’d like to have when I win the lottery cough.

I love my list is here. I love that I can share it, easily, with family and friends and I’ll definitely be using it in the future for all manner of events.

If I was really bitter about The Husband’s lack of hint uptake I could do a Wedding List for when I marry the man who will get my gifts without prompting cough. But luckily, with the help of my list is here I won’t have to. Will I?!

I have a good excuse I promise. I started a new job and had to be in the office for two weeks training.  I left the house at 8 and returned at 7 each day.  No time for blogging, twitter, facebook … all those time bandits.  Instead I’ve been filling my head with work stuff.

Not used to working full-ish time since before I had the kids it’s been a shock to the system.  I missed sports day, the 5 year old started waking twice in the night and we’ve all had some sort of random sore throat cold type thing.  Tired isn’t the word.  I’m bloody shattered, but in a content kind of way.

My new job? … I love it. I’m a social media monitor for a big brand.  It’s been funny being on the other side …  seeing what companies actually want me to report back on and how many people say things on Twitter, Facebook and other online mediums without thinking.

The big thing I’ve missed is the kids.  I missed sports day where the 7 year old came first in the sack race and the 5 year old came second in the sprint. They’ve been fine though. They’ve been catching the school bus each morning which is their new favourite thing. I came home each night to THE biggest cuddles.

Now that my training is over I get to spend loads of time with them over the Summer.  A mixture of working from home and only 2 days in the office is going to make a refreshing change.

One thing I have enjoyed is my commute to work … the part of Yorkshire where I live and work has the most beautiful scenery … matched with some loud ‘on my own’ singing has been great.

We’ve been so busy that The Husband and I forgot that it was our wedding anniversary today.  We’ve been together for 11 years and married for 5. We’re going away for a night on our own which will involve lots of sleep.

I leave you with a picture of the little face that greeted me one night after work when I got out of the car.

I got this email last week from my old friend H.

Laura dearest, here is a special picture for you.  This is you leaving our house on Love Parade day (8 July 2000) to go and meet your future husband – for your first ever date.  We tried to persuade you to stay … imagine if you had and the online relationship ended there …

It’s a really grainy photo but I’m sure you can see the cheesy grin. I was so relaxed about it all, not at all nervous, because I already knew.  I knew that he was ‘the one’ before I even met him face to face.  We had already spoken on the phone and online, for hours, over the previous four weeks.

The following day over Sunday lunch with My Sister I said “I’ve met the man I’m going to marry”.

And I was right.

Please note, I did get changed out of my gunslinger coat and my tatty jeans into something more suitable for a first date before I met him.

My daughter has a face like The Husband. It never stops moving.

After our first date I remember telling My Sister “He has a face like Jim Carey, he never stops pulling faces”.  As he’s aged his face pulling has eased off a touch, but he still has his moments. Luckily he also looks a bit like a Vince Vaughn crossed with Ray Liotta. He’s handsome … ask @LizJarvisUK *cough*, she can vouch for him.

Anyway, this is about the 6 year old and her ‘face of rubber’ not me fawning over my husband’s features …

If I leave my phone unattended the 6 year old sneaks onto Pocketbooth and I find little treasures hidden away. They make her look like she’s been at my gin.

This is what I am reading at the moment.

During my mini-break with The Husband I made a big decision fuelled, partly, by his belief in me.

I’m going to write a children’s book.

I’ve been wanting to do it for a long time but due to many reasons, the main one being self confidence, I’ve put it off hundreds of times. It’s all there in my head, swimming round.  It makes me smile and sometimes chuckle to myself in a slightly doolally manner.

I’m good at putting things off, really really good at it. Procrastination is my middle name. Why would I write a children’s book when I have other important things to do like tweeting … and eating … and thinking about Tom Selleck’s moustache … and tickling my children … and filling the dishwasher … and trying to work out why the dog smells so bad … and watching TV and … and … and …

So writing this blog post puts it out there. It also means that I’ve put off starting the book for another hour *COUGH* adds a bit of pressure. I work better under pressure.

So there you have it … I’m going to write a children’s book.

Is that OK with you?

The first time I ran out of petrol I was 18, on a dual carriageway outside a donkey sanctuary.  It was late and before the time of mobile phones, or at least ones smaller than a brick.  I went over to the donkey sanctuary and knocked on the door.  As it was dark and after 6 I think they assumed I was a burglar and approached me with caution.  I asked to use their phone to ring my Dad and ask him to come and save me.  He did.

The last time I ran out of petrol was last week.

Our car tells you how many miles you have until you need to fill up.  As it was telling me that I had 25 miles to go, I decided to fill up nearer home, 2 miles away.  The rain was pouring down, big fat relentless raindrops.

Then it just conked out.  I said a plethora of words that all ran into one big FAT swear word.

Luckily, when the car gave up all hope of continuing on our journey with a put-put-put, I was able to ram it up a curb and not block the road, causing further embarrassment. 

I was trapped in the car with two children in a monsoon, no coats, battery about to go on my phone, no phone charger, no food, no umbrella.  Never was it more apparent that I wasn’t a Girl Guide.

I immediately rang the husband, this is what I do during any crisis.  He is the voice of reason.  I told him where I was and what had happened.  He started berating me for not going to the petrol station, I shouted “STOP ARGUING WITH ME, MY PHONE IS NEARLY OUT OF BATTERY, WE ARE IN TORRENTIAL RAIN WITH NO COATS”.  The 4 year old started weeping and mistook my crazy shouting for “WE  ARE GOING TO DIE, IN A VOLVO”.

I quickly calmed my children by telling them we were on an adventure, albeit in a steamed up car.  During our twenty minute adventure we managed the following;

5 minutes – A game of balloon tennis.

5 minutes – Playing the slightly repetitive game of “No, I love YOU more”

4 minutes – I Spy.  The 4 year old still hasn’t got the hang of I Spy. When he says “I spy with my little eye, something beginning with M” he actually means A for aeroplane … and there isn’t even one in the vicinity.

2 minutes – Steamed up windows are great for drawing bottoms and monsters on.

4 minutes - The ‘poo, wee song’.

The Husband arrived and brought a can of petrol which he opened in the boot of car, gassing us and bringing the ‘poo, wee song’ to an abrupt end.

High as a kite we drove home and the children asked when we could do the steamed up car thing again.

Before he even walked into the bar I was in love with him.

We’d met four weeks before on the Internet.  By the time we met we knew virtually everything about each other.  He may have left out that he’ll watch absolutely every sport possible apart from synchronised swimming.  I may have omitted to tell him about my fear of housework and that occasionally I talk/sleepwalk/laugh and leap about in my sleep.

One week into our online banter he sent me a photo of himself.  Today, I can still remember opening that email and looking at him for the first time.  My legs turned to jelly and I knew instantly that he would be my husband.  Who’d have thought that a handsome man sporting an INXS t-shirt with a small child on his knee could have evoked such a reaction.

Three months after our first date we were living together.  In two weeks we’ll be celebrating four years of marriage.  Who knows, we might celebrate by finally picking up our proper wedding photos.  *COUGH*

The last ten years have been the most entertaining, stressful, joyous and personally challenging years of my life.  I can’t think of anyone I would have rather inflicted them on.

Tonight we’ll raise a glass to another ten years.

I used this picture of our wedding day because we looked so very happy, however. I am also a tad shiny.  Great Grandma Driver, approaching her mid eighties, had asked the nice man at the hotel to turn off the air conditioning during our wedding meal.  It was one of the hottest days of the year and she was a bit chilly.  This photo was taken around the moment we realised what she’d done, as everyone started to melt.

I was in the village sandwich shop the other week when I saw a sign for football for 3-6 year old’s. I rang The Husband in excitement and we booked his first session immediately.

Realising that his trainers were too small and his school shoes too, well … non-trainery we went shopping.

On the way to the shopping sheds (as TFMo3 likes to call them) The Husband told me in no uncertain terms that he would be in charge of football gear purchasing.

To be fair he has waited a long time for one of his children to show an interest in sport.  He’s been patient; The Teenager is interested in horse riding and the 5 year old is interested in reading and drawing.  Luckily the 4 year old is interested in anything which involves hitting a ball, kicking a ball, throwing a ball or just generally moving at speed.

We took a fleeting visit to Clarks to get him measured properly and get the 5 year old some new school shoes. I pointed out some really nice Clarks trainers and was mocked (by The Husband) and told that he would be wearing ‘proper’ trainers for football.

Next stop the sports shop. A pair of white (me with a ‘they’ll be ruined in a fortnight’ face) trainers later and The Husband beaming we went home.

Sleeping with his trainers ...

The trainers went on as soon as we got home.

They remained on until bedtime when they were put back in their box and taken to bed with him.

Three weeks later and The Husband is swelling with pride.

Not only is the 4 year old left footed but he scores more goals than anyone else.

And me? I need to put my ‘they’ll be ruined in a fortnight’ face back in my handbag. The trainers are still immaculate and white.

When I started thinking about our Christmas rules I realised that we don’t really have many. 

We are fairly kamikaze in our approach to Christmas and of course very … ahem …  relaxed. 

Really …

Decorations

Before having children we would wait till as late as possible before decorating the tree, on one year not having a tree at all.  Bah humbug. 

Nowadays we I put up our tree as early as possible, the only rule being it is in December.  I whack on the Christmas tunes and let the children decorate the tree.  We buy one new decoration a year for the tree.

When the children are in bed the husband who is a perfectionist redecorates the tree.

Every year without fail the husband will threaten to buy a ‘tasteful’ whicker light up reindeer for the front lawn.  This means he wanders round the garden centres illuminations once a week eyeing them up.  So far no reindeer.  Maybe this is the year.

Christmas Eve

Every Christmas Eve we pile into Teacher Friend Mother of Three’s house for party food and games.  We then go to the neighbouring villages church hall to listen to a brass band (all volunteers) play whilst we sing along.  As we leave the church hall Santa says goodbye and hands us each a piece of fruit whilst holding a banner advertising the local fruit and veg shop. 

Although this is not my activity of choice I have ulterior motives.  Out of the house for approximately five hours the children use up some of their excess excitement and arrive home ready for bed.  I come home feeling REALLY Christmassy. 

The husband has already told me he refuses to attend ‘the dodgy carol singing’ this year and would like to return to his old Christmas Eve ‘out with the lads’. But he won’t.

Children

The children leave a mince pie and beverage of the husband’s choice out for Santa and a carrot or two for the reindeers.

As they are getting ready for bed they will question me relentlessly about how Santa will get down our chimney as we have a gas fire.  I will come over all Paul Daniels and repeatedly say “It’s magic”.

On Christmas Day the children will wake early as usual and open the presents in their stocking on our bed as we try to prise our eyelids open.  We then go downstairs to see if Santa’s been.  There will then be a frenzy of present opening and a lull whilst the husband spends an hour removing various toys from their packaging and assembling them whilst swearing.  It will only be 7am.

The children then get dressed before ringing people who have sent presents.  The 3 year old will remain silent during his part of the phone call whilst I tell the person in a loud voice that he is very grateful.  The 5 year old will rabbit away and confuse anyone who is partially deaf (Gramps).  I will have to go on the phone and translate for the person on the other end of the phone.

The teenager will get socks and pyjamas … amongst other things. Fact.

Christmas Dinner

The husband always does ALL the cooking whilst wearing a festive apron and draining a bottle of Red wine.  He likes it that way and I don’t complain.

Everyone has a scratch card at their table setting and the stepfather in law always wins, sometimes up to £50.

We have sprouts as they are one of my favourite vegetables. 

I eat the most sprouts.

The teenager will humour me by having her one and only sprout of the year.

The mother in law will present her trifle which is unusual as it has pink blamanche in it. She will leave her trifle dish at our house and forget about it until 2 weeks before Christmas when she will collect it.

I will eat lots of trifle.

Later when we have partially digested a massive Christmas dinner we will eat cold leftovers. 

Cold sprouts are delicious. Fact

We try sit down to watch a great Xmas movie, but as usual there aren’t any. Fact.