19th November 2015

All I want for Christmas…

5f9229ac2d14626255648c8985a4ed35Dear Husband, Family, and Santa,

Here is my Christmas Wish List… Thanking you in advance.

1. A lazy weekend lie-in. I want a lie-in – and I mean a proper, uninterrupted lie-in. I don’t want children to bash through the door shouting ‘MUMMY!!!!” before throwing a slice of peanut butter toast at my head. I don’t want to hear my husband shouting loudly “I DON’T KNOW! WE’LL HAVE TO ASK MUMMY WHEN SHE GETS UP!” so that I absolutely, definitely hear the hint. I want to lie in bed, with my legs stretched out, for a whole morning – and when I get up, I want the house to be tidy, my children to be dressed, and everybody to be in a wonderful mood.

2. Sweet treats JUST FOR ME. I don’t actually care what form these delicacies take (chocolate, however, would be a good start). All I care is that I don’t have to share them. Not with little grabbing hands and not with hungry husband post-rugby training.  I want the first and last of these treats to be mine, without feeling a morsel of guilt.

3. Space in the bed. I want my own space in the bed that no one else in the family is allowed to steal from me. NO babies kicking me in the ribs and NO small boys at the end of the bed where my legs are supposed to be. If you have some kind of barrier device for the bed, leave it in my stocking. If not, leave a note that states my territory very clearly and make sure everybody reads it.

4. A flat tummy. I know it’s pretty unlikely after growing two children (not forgetting the inconvenience of eating being my favourite pastime). But still, if I could wake up on Christmas morning to discover I was now the proud owner of supermodel abs, it would save a lot of hard graft (and the price of a gym membership) when January rolled around.

5. Still cuddles. I want an afternoon watching Christmas movies cuddling my two babies. But listen (this bit is very important) – they must not kick, fidget or struggle. I just want some stillness. Even if it doesn’t last the whole afternoon. Or even a full 10 minutes. Just as long as my cuddle lasts longer than the usual 1.5 seconds before they are off again to study the wheels of a toy car or work out how quickly they can scale the windowsill.  That is all.

6 An orange snack bowl. It should be identical to the one that we already own. The one that causes arguments every single time I hand out snacks, as they both NEED THE ORANGE SNACK BOWL!!! And because they need it, they will play tug or war with the bowl to a soundtrack of high-pitched squeals until one is ultimately victorious and the other collapses on the floor in a heap of tears and rice cakes. It’s a simple thing, I know. I’m pretty sure you will come up trumps with this one.

7. To see the bottom of my mug. During the Christmas period, I’d like to do that thing I used to do before I had children – sit my bum on the sofa (preferably with a big box of Quality Street Chocolates and something festive on the TV) and drink a whole cup of tea or coffee without moving. I’d like to sit and sip slowly, without needing to jump up to prevent a disaster with brown paint and a cream rug, without needing to flip over the smiley face potatoes in the oven, and without needing to stop the smallest child dropping his raisins one by one in the toilet. If I see the bottom of my coffee cup once during the Christmas period, this will be worth celebrating. I’m already excited.

8. An extra two hours in every day. Santa, I am relying on you for this one, as it requires a little magic. I need 26 hours in every day to do all the things I never have time for – the books I don’t read, the baths I never lie in, the emails I never write, the novel I keep promising to start writing. Oh and one last thing,, I do not want these extra hours to be filled with the sound of ‘MUMMY MUMMY MUMMY MUMMY MUMMY MUMMY MUMMY MUMMY!” so please make sure these extra hours are post 7pm. Thank you. It’s not all too much to ask, is it?