New Year Resolutions #46

Yep running into my 46th New Year and wondering if I have learnt anything over these past few decades.
Errrmmm....
Not a lot....
Well, maybe that's a little bit of a lie; I have learnt that New Year Resolutions don't work that well for me. A friend of mine pointed out, quite correctly I may add though I will never thank him for it, that I hate being told that I cannot do something. That is not to say that I then go out and prove people wrong.
I don't.
I just don't like people saying it.
So how did I do over the year?
well I made one resolution...
And...
I didn't keep it.
So this year I make no promises at all instead as I go into the New year I will count my blessings and they are legion!
So here are my top ten for 2011...

I have my boys.

I have my husband.

I have my family and I have loads of friends (on and off-line!).

I am relatively fit and healthy

I am warm and well fed

I have my dogs (and they are legion so my husband says...)

I have my home

I have my wits (sort of!)

I have a past that has got me where I am and I am happy

And I have a future to look forward to!

Happy New Year 

(May your troubles be small and your future bright!)

An apologist…

I am an apologist. And I hate it.

If something goes wrong even if I didn’t do it I say sorry. I am always apologising.

I so want to be liked and thought well of that I can go to extraordinary lengths to ensure everyone is OK with it. I worry about it.

I hate people getting me wrong so apologise even when it is probably quite unnecessary and it makes me, well it makes me out to be a wimp. It makes people think I have no backbone and that I am weak.

It makes people suspicious. I mean, why say sorry if you haven’t done anything wrong?

It’s a shocking habit because frequently I am not sorry for what I have done or said and in fact I would like to go a lot further however I apologise instead.

I like to think I weigh up the options and try to look at the bigger picture. Mostly I don’t feel like taking the flak as it is just too exhausting.

Should I stick to my guns and have a pyric victory or shall I just say sorry and shut up? I try to remember what Denis Thatcher used to say: “Better to say nothing and be thought a fool rather than open your mouth and confirm it…”

It doesn’t always work.

I apologise for myself because I mostly think that I am rather a silly person, that other people are better than I, that to be honest I really haven’t a clue what I am doing. So I hesitate, open my mouth in panic, stumble over my tongue and look aghast at the product and inevitably say sorry.

Maybe it’s a word I should ban from my repertoire?

Maybe other people aren’t so concerned about what others think

Maybe I should stop being so concerned myself…easier said than done.

Strange how one doesn’t change the older one gets…Sorry!

Mothers!

It can only come from your mother. No one else would be neither quite as frank nor as public and get away with it.

No one else can remind you that you are after all a daughter and not a grown up with a demanding nay even influential job where you are respected and dare I say it…admired, even if it is only in select circles.

So on Christmas day surrounded by loving family she has to come out with it.

"Darling, why don’t you dye your hair?"

I snorted on the gravy and nearly choked unbecomingly on my Christmas turkey.

"What?!"

"It would be so much nicer if you dyed your hair."

I was bewildered. My hair has served me well for 45 years and now she says there is something wrong with it!

"I just preferred your hair when you dyed it."

Now I did dye my hair a few years ago when it first started to go grey but I didn’t think my mother cared one way or the other. And then it dawned on me.

My hair had got too grey!

She wanted me to dye my hair not because it looked better for me to have dark glossy hair but that it was an affront to her to see me with grey hair. Effectively forcing her to admit that she was no longer as young as SHE once was…

However, I must say she may have a point. I am far too young to have grey hair and only the other day someone thought she and I were sisters so perhaps it is in my own best interest….

Me and TV

I think I spend too much time in front of the box.
That opiate of the masses.
The television.
Don't get me wrong I am not a couch potato but my consumption of telly is creeping up.
I suppose it's because it is there and convenient especially when I am tired but I think it is getting rather bad when I plan my Christmas dinner round what's on the telly, that I know the theme tunes to a myriad of shows that I could almsot be on Mastermind and that I have watched so many detective/cop/law shows that I could almost write my own.  I do love them all CSI, NCIS, Human Target, The Mentalist, Numbers, The Good Wife, Law & Order the list is endless but it's just no good.
And I think back to my childhood and watching Why Don't You...?
And I think that perhaps it would be a good thing if I stopped watching TV just for a month, just for January and see what happens.
I won't stop my children from watching it as basically they only get to watch it on Saturday and Sunday in between Hockey, swimming, tennis, riding and general socialising so it's not as if they are being overloaded.
It's just me.
I won't say stop forever as that would only make me give up in a flash. I just need to give myself a little time.
I just need to stop it for a while and do stuff.
Stuff I always mean to do but never quite get round to.
Guitar practise.
Gardening.
Photography.
Writing.
Walking the dogs.
Running.
Riding.
I need to wake up out of my zombie life and actually live it rather than wait for it all to happen.
Live Life.
I hope I am not too late....

The Nightmare before Christmas…(Apologies to the 12 Days Of Chrismas)

With just 12 sleeps to Christmas

I started getting cross

Why don’t we call the whole thing off?

With just 11 sleeps to Christmas

There was no shopping done

This isn’t fun

Why don’t we call the whole thing off?

With just 10 sleeps to Christmas

Dog ate the Christmas cake

Goodness sake

This isn’t fun

Why don’t we call the whole thing off?

With just 9 sleeps to Christmas

No cards had been sent

I need to vent

Goodness sake

This isn’t fun

Why don’t we call the whole thing off?

With just 8 sleeps to Christmas

I got the turkey bid

Sixty five quid!

I need to vent

Goodness sake

This isn’t fun

Why don’t we call the whole thing off?

With just 7 sleeps to Christmas

The heating oil ran out

Do not to shout

Sixty five quid!

I need to vent

Goodness sake

This isn’t fun

Why don’t we call the whole thing off?

With just 6 sleeps to Christmas

I got the presents bought

So I thought…

Do not to shout

Sixty five quid!

I need to vent

Goodness sake

This isn’t fun

Why don’t we call the whole thing off?

With just 5 sleeps to Christmas

We brought in the tree

Oh what debris!

So I thought…

Do not to shout

Sixty five quid!

I need to vent

Goodness sake

This isn’t fun

Why don’t we call the whole thing off?

With just 4 sleeps to Chrismas

The pipes they did burst

I feel cursed

Oh what debris!

So I thought…

Do not to shout

Sixty five quid!

I need to vent

Goodness sake

This isn’t fun

Why don’t we call the whole thing off?

With just 3 sleeps to Christmas

Please don’t take the mick

The cat was sick

I feel cursed

Oh what debris!

So I thought…

Do not to shout

Sixty five quid!

I need to vent

Goodness sake

This isn’t fun

Why don’t we call the whole thing off?

With just 2 sleeps to Christmas

I got another guest

Tiny bit stressed

The cat was sick

I feel cursed

Oh what debris!

So I thought…

Do not to shout

Sixty five quid!

I need to vent

Goodness sake

This isn’t fun

Why don’t we call the whole thing off?

With just 1 sleep to Christmas…

Say bye bye to all this

Hotel bliss!

What they asked Santa for Christmas...and what they asked me!

Got caught on the hop the other day while doing a spot of Christms shopping at Snape Maltings. There was Santa. Bog Boy, my youngest spotted him and starting yelping in excitment. There was nothing for it but to join the queue to say hello.
Both boys went up. I was quite sure they would both be demanding all sorts that I couldn't possibly give let alone afford. And they were bound to rattle off a whole list of things thaty I am sure they are not meant to even know about let alone want for Christmas, wierd action agames for their Wii, horrid plastic toys that I loathe and well basically show me up for the dreadful mother I am. I waited in trepidation.
"Now young man," says Santa, "have you been a good boy?"
"Yes Santa," nods the youngest sagely.
"And what would you like then for Christmas?"
"An Anbarrow and some lego..."
"Is that it?"
"Yes, Santa"
"Well if you are good until Christmas I will see what I can do..."
Then it was my eldests turn...surley now I will get the massive great list. DS3, X-Box you know the works...
"What would you like?"
"Just a Happy Christmas, please Santa"
Sometimes they catch you on the hop and bring a lump to your throat. I was so proud of them. They are both quite wonderful that was until I got into the car...
"Mum?"
"Yes, Darlings...."
"Can you get us a Playsation for Christmas....?"

Do they still believe in Father Christmas?

It’s getting a bit touch and go here as to whether The Boy believes or not. There are a lot of question marks, indeed there are a lot of questions which are randomly fired at me at all sort s of times both day and night. I feel as though I am on the spot and that he is trying to trip me up. If my answers don’t tally then the game is up.

Him: “Can you go and see Father Christmas in Lapland?”

Me: “I am told you can.”

Him: “Is Father Christmas real?”

Me: “He is if you believe he is.”

Him: “Do YOU believe in Father Christmas Mummy?”

Me: “I believe.”

Sometimes he throws me googlies.

Him: “How can Father Christmas deliver all the presents to everyone all over the world in time?”

Me: “Magic.”

Him: Why are there a lot of Father Christmases in shops and everywhere?”

Me: Because there is only one Father Christmas sometimes he has to get people to help him so everyone is happy.”

Him: “Why does Father Christmas not give you everything you ask for even if you have been really good?”

Me: “Father Christmas always asks your parents if the presents he brings are right for you. He wouldn’t like to upset Mummies and Daddies at Christmas time.”

He’s working things out my boy but when he does finally work it out I just hope he’ll keep it quiet until his little brother is ready to ask those questions for himself…

Bah! Humbug! - shall I just give up on Christmas?

Shall I just give up on Christmas? I mean it’s not as if we are spending it at home so why bother with decorating it? No one will see it and I don’t think my family will appreciate it either. I posed that question (somewhat aggressively I might add) to the boys this morning. My head was full of the things I had to do IF I decided to go ahead with Christmas at our place.

First, there’d be the Christmas letter to write, the Christmas cards to buy, the envelopes to address and then of course the cost of the stamps. We don’t do much by halves at this place so the Christmas card list sits at nearly 200 strong. We never get back as many cards as we send out I might add.

Then I would have to find tall the decorations and dress the house. It is something I have always loved in the past but with us not being here I wonder would it be worth it and I feel that there is no point. Yet I am conflicted, I do love seeing my home dressed for Christmas.

But there is so much work involved. There is SO much to do. I have work and deadlines to meet and every weekend from now till New Year is packed; no rest or breather though I will admit at least this year I don’t have to do the lot myself. A silly practice I had got into whereby I’d be charging about entertaining from the week before Christmas to the weekend after New Year. No wonder I flopped into a depression every January I was far too exhausted.

So now without that pressure I feel in two minds. Do I hurtle about or do I drop it? There is no particular need is there?

Then I see their faces in the rear-view mirror.

Christmas may not be in our house this year but the build-up still is. I hear a little voice from the back of the car: “So Father Christmas won’t be coming to our house then?”

I check myself. God how selfish I am! “Of course he will sweetheart,” I say. And I mean it. The spirit of Christmas fills my heart because I know how much it means to them and after all what is Christmas all about if not them?

And later I will scamper about in the barn hunting down the decorations.

I will charge off to the shops to get the cards and do the Christmas Shopping.

The Christmas round robin letter will be written.

The envelopes addressed.

And I, well, I won’t be doing everything this time, there will be no cooking or extra cleaning, no jollying along of in-laws and making everything perfect for everyone else because I think that is what they want so I think it will be a Merry Christmas after all…