Life here just keeps rolling along in the house of knocked up. Rolling is perhaps under playing it a bit. It’s catapulting like a tumbleweed in a cyclone, but you know? It is Christmas. We know this is how it goes every time.
I need not tell you about the endless charade of Christmas break ups, kinder concerts, Christmas shopping, work things, food stuff, blah blah … you’re doing it. We’re in this together and I hope you are seeking out the quiet times in between too? I see that as the key to staying balanced and enjoying the festivities. There’s my piece of Dalai lama wisdom for you today and yet in contradiction, I just pray that in this household we don’t all end up too cranky for Christmas. I don’t want to be the fun scrooge this year. I mean, that’s my knocked up role virtually on a full time basis right now so I’d like to have a little holiday for the holidays please!
The tree is up. I gave in about a week ago and surprisingly Baby Vick has pleased me with his will power not to lug it right on over and drag it about the lounge room. I was having nightmares about the possibilities that this 18 month old could concoct. Sure there’s been some temptation to pull a bauble or two off and launch them across the lounge like a star cricket player but the novelty has soon thinned out and he has found new tricks to alternatively taunt me with. Little Vick guards the tree with great diligence just in case and in general exercises much better parenting expertise than myself. Bravo to him. I take kips instead.
I’ve been finding all is well with my world if I get my snooze o’clock time every afternoon. Hells bells if I don’t and you know what? Hells bells if I do because I often wake up feeling worse than I ever did before hand! Such a cruel conundrum every day. Do I soldier on and be one type of narky biatch or sleep and possibly feel better or possibly wake up like another type of narky biatch which is ten times worse. I find myself in a mombie daze most afternoons unable to do chores and wonderful parenting activities. I just suck a little bit right now. I count down till when Mr Vick arrives home and when he steps in the door I launch myself at him, tears streaming down my face because I am so relieved to have him home to be my team and to fight this parenting and domestic battle together.
In my mombie state thinking just isn’t on the agenda. take exhibit a:
I try. I really do. I always dream of showing up to our Christmas parties exhibiting beautiful domestic and culinary expertise displayed through my contribution, only for things to turn out like this. First of all, I had planned on making some scrummy lemon bally things that make you want to scoff until you fall into a food coma – BUT, I forgot to buy the vital ingredient – lemons. At this point I had precisely 90 minutes until the party. Mr Vick was out and I had a child asleep. I was not getting any lemons fast. So, I forgot about them and moved onto my plum puddings. I’m happily basking in my domestic display when I discover there is no where near enough green lollies to chop up to make the holly! Why is it that every time you buy a packet of lollies there’s oodles of yucky green ones and then when you actually need them there is BARELY ANY?? Again, baby asleep and husband unavailable to do a lolly run. Boo. I took them, incomplete. Shaking my head at my own domestic tard-ness. I swear I used to be better at this life gig but hey, it all just goes in the have-a-laugh-at-Vicki-she’s-such-a-nincompoop pile. People are used of my fairly low standards by now anyway.
If you follow the blog on Facebook you would have seen the first preggie bump picture reveal over the weekend. I look 13 weeks going on 23 I’d say. I swear my belly uses pregnancy as an excuse to just let it hang all out. People are already doing the “oh you’re very large” kinda commentary. Such music to any woman’s ears.
Are you doing the Christmas cooking thing?
How are you finding some down time in this crazed Christmas season?
Today I’m linking up with Jess over at #IBOT