Christmas Dilemma.

I have a bit of a problem.

I'm 41 (no, not that, though it is rather horrible!)

I have never DONE Christmas.

I mean the whole cooking and having family round thing.

I have always gone to mums, though she hates the whole cooking thing too and makes sure we all know about it!

And before my nan died, we always went there for a proper Essexmas knees up! Now that's how i'd like to do it, though sadly we are now minus two aunts, one uncle and all my Grandparents.

But we have gained three children under 4!

Back to the matter in hand, my parents are moving. From Surrey to just down the road from us in Somerset. And I can't bloody wait!

We have no family here at all, so parenting is full on 24 hour hell...well that's not quite true, sometimes it's fun and rewarding and heartwarming. But the majority of the time it's not, as I'm sure most parents of more than 2 under 4 will tell you. And our third has just arrived. We thought we had it sussed before that!

So I'm counting the days. Eight to be exact.

And only sixteen till Christmas.

And I have just made the decision to do it....here!

It's the right daughterly thing to do, isn't it? There isn't anyone else. I'm an only child.

But...

It's expectations isn't it?

Mainly my own.

I don't enjoy Christmas. For anyone who has had problems with food, and doesn't drink, it's not the best time of year. Much as I'd love to, I can't stuff my face and get pissed, well I could, but it wouldn't be pretty and let's just say Christmas, in fact life as I know it would be cancelled!

And unfortunately, living with someone with anorexia for many years had scarred my parents too.

Our relationship isn't always great and it's hard work, but now I have children of my own and they idolise them, and visa versa, so I want to make Christmas special this year.

I have visions of laying on the perfect spread. I can cook, in fact I'm rather good at it. But I hate it.

I am also rather stressed and tired at the moment. Ruby has colic and isn't sleeping so neither am I.

Mark is an extremely tired postman who is working on and up to Christmas Eve. And no it's not like the advert. He most definitely does not 'love parcels'!!!

We haven't even got the tree up yet!

So, do we have pork pie and tinned salmon?!?!?

It's not even about the food is it? Really?

It's about the company.

And if I get mum nice and merry on the mulled wine, I can just about bear it!

For a couple of hours!

Wish me luck.......

I think I'm gonna need it!

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So now we are five...

Meet Ruby Rose. The latest addition to our family.

My last baby....I'm done!!

She came into our lives in a flurry of excitement and fear in theatre, in an unexpected turn of events, four weeks early. Tiny, yet perfect in every way. Bruised and battered, but beautiful to me.

And that is how it has been ever since.

Six weeks of ups and downs, unexpected twists and turns to our family lives. General chaos has ensued and ruled our household with its iron fist.

I didn't think a third baby would change things that much....I was wrong! So very wrong.

Roles have changed, my children are confused, one too young to understand what has happened, only seeing her place, my lap taken up by someone else, a tiny being that has required all my attention day and night, constantly at my breast or sleeping in my arms.

Amy is upset and has turned into a child I do not recognise.

She cannot talk properly yet, so she growls...every time anyone goes near her, especially her big brother, Luke. Who has been the centre of attention since he was born.

She has always been happy to go along with this, happy to play while he soaked up the limelight.

But not any more.

Maybe it's a good thing! She has found her inner growl voice.

Tonight I saw a glimmer of my baby girl, who isn't any more. Ruby was asleep and Amy climbed onto my lap. She reached up for a cuddle. It was brief and I could have stayed in it forever if she'd have let me.

Anybody who says having three isn't much harder than two is, in my opinion wrong.

But I wouldn't have it any other way.

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One of those days.

Or should I say mornings.......just feels like a day!

I really didn't want my first post to be miserable! I wanted it to be all bright shiny and positive.....but, sorry folks at the mo, my life ain't just like that!

I have a newborn who isn't sleeping and a young daughter I don't recognise as my own any more. And when you add Luke into the mix it just means five hours of general awfulness.

I am lucky. I don't often have all three all together at the same time on my own very much,  but this morning was one of those times and I don't like myself very much right now.

I have turned into one of those screaming shrews I swore I'd never become.

And it doesn't make one damn bit of difference anyway. I might as well shout at the wall!!

They are having a nap. Well big and middler are.

I can just about cope with the one on my shoulder, even if she smells of sick. I can hold her close in the new quietness of my lounge and regroup.

I love all my babies to the moon and back, and yep, I signed up for this, but it can be so bloody bloody hard!

 

 

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