And the bells were ringing out for… oh bloody hell.
‘You gonna buy a coat for winter?’ I asked my best friend this morning while stood shivering outside Starbucks, attempting to de-tangle Woo from the car seat.
‘Yeah I already bought mine a while ago, Lexy. I am wearing it. Look. It’s huge, it’s warm, it’s belted, and it even has a hood.’
I glance up, cursing the frost bite which had begun to make itself at home on my fingers ‘Oh. Yeah. It’s Nice. ’ The Bitch looks toasty.
‘Are you gonna buy a winter coat any time soon?’ she fires back looking a little bewildered. ‘You must be freezing in that t-shirt and cardigan.’
‘I, erm, I was waiting for winter.’
Ok, somebody please explain this to me. How the fooking hell did it get to December when my mind, body, soul and most annoyingly my bloody wardrobe are still living in August? I am serious! Where the hell has this year gone? I swear to beejaysus that it was August 13th LAST WEEK! What happened to October? What happened to November? HOW IN THE HELL IS IT THE 18TH OF DECEMBER?
I was waiting for winter to buy a coat?! What is wrong with me? I have bought Addison snow suits, I have bought Christmas presents, and I have put a tree up. At what point did I forget about myself in this equation? All I can say is, with my shopping addiction as it is, I must have done all of this on the exhilarating auto pilot that spending gives me, as it only dawned on me this morning, It is bloody winter woman! This is why you are constantly shaking! (I thought i was developing early onset Parkinson’s. I really did. I can be a bit paranoid at times. No it is not a sore throat! It is a nodule! A throat nodule it has to be! Yup that’s me.)
And if it is winter? Then oh god, it’s bloody Christmas soon isn’t it? Which can only mean one thing. It is bloody Christmas soon. *falls to knees and shouts why god, whyyyyyyyyyyy*
Do you know what Christmas means to me? (Beware all you ho ho ho –ers. I am not really a lover of Christmas. I am not a Scrooge either though, before you all start shouting BAH HUMBUG at me. I do buy presents ok? So do not even think about sending any ghosts to see me d’ya hear? I have enough skeletons in my closet (just none wearing coats!) without you mailing me some bloody fairy with a squeaky voice. (Have you ever watched Scrooged? I love it! If you haven’t then you must.)
This is what Christmas means to me.
· Too many shoppers.
· Worrying about my weight. (DO NOT bring Quality Street in this house! Not if you expect to leave with them intact.)
· Arguing about who you spend the exclusive day with. (Child of a broken home. Sob.)
· A plane ride. (I fooking hate flying.)
· Finding somewhere for Doodle to stay (I always go to Spain.)
· A great day skiing with my dad. (The one plus point.)
· Being a bit gutted because Santa isn’t real. (And don’t start saying he lives in our hearts blah blah blah. There is no room in my heart for a fake fat man who eats my mince pies.)
· Freezing my droopy tits off and longing for summer.
What? I am just being honest. Christmas has been a contentious, to say the least, issue in my family for years now. I think when your parents are divorced (Poor poor me) it is usually the way. We are forced to discuss it in June.
‘What’s happening at Christmas?’
‘Dad, its June.’
‘Yeah, but what’s happening?’
See??? It’s a nightmare.
Last year was a bit fun, I’ll admit. I was too pregnant to fly. (I said this from week 4) so everyone i loved had to come to me. (God I miss having that power.) There was heavy snow, for the first time in years, (which made it fun, now the novelty has worn off, not so much!) I could eat as much as I wanted (as the weight will fall off right? RIGHT? Lying bastards the lot of you.) And although I couldn’t ski, doodle didn’t have to be shipped off, so enjoyed his first Christmas day ever at home. Which was lovely for him, and for me.(Doodle is very important to me.)
This year though. The race to Christmas is back on.
We leave for Spain on Friday morning. (Not Thursday as I suggested on my earlier post. See? My head is up my arse! Thank god for the Irish one, (DO NOT TELL HIM I SAID THAT) as we’d have had to spend the night in the airport. No. We couldn’t have come home. Once you are there you are there. Yes. I know i only live 20 minutes from the airport. But ONCE YOU ARE THERE YOU ARE THERE!)
This morning we have woken up to more snow. So now i have to worry the plane won’t go too. However, the suitcases are opened and are excitedly anticipating being crammed full of all manner of shite. All manner of shite we need now that we have an extra set of arms and legs coming with us. Travelling light? Racing through passport control with just a carry on? Another thing i lost when i neglected to use a condom. Are you listening teenagers?!?! Travelling light? A thing of the past.
But at least The Irish one is excited. Next year we do it his way. Ireland. He is excited about Spain, this year, as he knows next year it is his turn to go home with baby in tow. (I have a year to get out of it. But that’s another post all together. And while we are on this subject, don’t tell him I said that either.)
Addison has been sat in the suitcase while I pack it; he keeps juddering about like a milkshake in an earthquake, so I take it from that, he is excited too.
If I am honest, I am a bit excited about spending two weeks at home. I am excited about Addison spending so much time with granddad and I am looking forward to spending a bit of time with my old friends and relaxing while granddad does the night feeds. (MUAHAHAHAH!)
But my opinion of Christmas and winter in general?
Well, I think Doodle sums it up perfectly.
And i still need a coat.