Food For Thought...

We're at the end of another year- 2011 lies behind us, 2012 is waiting to start. It's traditionally a time for New Year's resolutions and I've personally made the same unsuccessful ones dozens of times over the years. They're all an unimaginative variation on the same theme, inevitably born out of the guilt and tightening waistband of an overindulgent December. The 'I'm DEFINITELY going to lose a stone/ go to the gym 3 times a week/ stop drinking wine because I'm a big fat shite' variety. Very negative, very depressing and pretty much guaranteed to fail by January 11th...at the latest.
So, after my increasingly reckless December foodfest, instead of greeting the New Year with anticipation, I greeted it with dread. My only new beginning involved becoming a cottage cheese and crisp bread eating hermit and of course,the ads on tv don't help. Apparently, Weight-watchers is spending £15 million on a 3 minute ad to be aired on all the major channels on New Year's Day. Never mind Slimming World, Lighter Life and the rest!! What chance do we guilty greedy suckers have in the face of that??
It's not that I'm a totally changed woman- like most people, I still eat and drink more than is good for me in December, although perhaps not as wantonly as before because I now know that the tap isn't suddenly switched off come New Year's day. I also actually believe that after the excesses and festivities of December, our bodies naturally crave simpler foods as normal routine kicks in again.
If I'm totally honest, I do hate the fact that my waistband digs in a little tighter in January, and my gut reaction,('scuse the pun)is to sign up for another diet that THIS time will  work for me. But I'm not going to because I've been here too many times before. Most of the time, I now know that what works for me is listening to my body, as it asks for simpler wholesome foods when it's hungry, and not because another tin of Quality Street has winked at me from the back of the cupboard. And slowly, gradually as a cold bleak January wears on, and because I'm not going half crazy with diets and calories and the resulting weekend blow outs, I'll start to feel more comfortable in my clothes and in myself. That's the theory.
Some might say that I'm just not motivated or determined enough. Or that I'm too fond of the dreaded carbs, or that I just haven't found the right diet. Maybe they're right! Perhaps I have lowered my expectations...Or maybe, just maybe, I've raised them?

Lounge Lizard

I do so love this interlude between Christmas and New Year, which inevitably arrives for me not a moment too soon. Just as my head is about to explode, and I'm ready to call Christmas off completely, along comes a week where the livin' is easy, the TV is stellar, the chocolate and wine are plentiful and the elasticated waist is my NBF. Yes indeedy, that new loungewear set you got for Christmas? It's about to come into its own, my friend. (sidenote-hats off to whoever took the lowly PJs, doubled the price and sold them to us all as loungewear - genius!)

Mine, all mine!!!!

Now that the leftovers have been covered with cling film, and the industrial amounts of packaging are stuffed into the recycling bin, its time to sit down with a reheated mincepie or three, surf the sales, watch 'The Wizard of Oz' and turn a resolute blind eye to the numerous selection boxes being quietly consumed beside me by my offspring. I'm enjoying a gentle stroke of  my new hairy leopard print iPad cover, (You gorgeous thing! I shall never tire of your beauty), while luxuriating in clouds of new perfume, and wearing my new wedge heels with my Jammies....just cos it's Christmas.
As a stocking filler,  Loverboy had thoughtfully bought me piles of magazines - 'Cosmopolitan', 'Company' and 'Marie Claire'. They're all far too young for me of course- I just can't muster up the interest for 'decoding his body language' (I'll just cut to the chase and ask him), or even in oglying the naked Christmas 'Mc Fly' shoot. (Manboys just aren't my thing). So I'll quietly change them for the more age appropriate 'Grazia' and 'She' and even (eeeeek) 'Good Housekeeping'- more spanx than spandex I suppose! The contrarily twisted irony is, that if he HAD bought me a subscription for Good Housekeeping, I'd have been bloody raging- it would have been the equivalent to unwrapping a new ironing board. (Is that how you see me!!!!!!)

In the same flattering vein, was the too small underwear I received- (36C as opposed to my more generous 38DD), and the compliment was all the richer for it. Admittedly though, had he unwittingly erred on the larger side, my reaction may have been decidedly more chilly. In truth, half the pleasure of this gift is perversely imagining him wandering aimlessly around the lingerie section of M&S, desperately avoiding the eye of the helpful matron with a tape measure round her neck, praying he won't bump into anyone he knows, and fumbling to pay and get of there as fast as possible....Yep, still loving it!
So, in the immortal words of Freddie Mercury, thank God it's Christmas, and consequently my plans for the rest of the day will be full on between  programming the sky+ for the week ahead, having a bath, reading Hello, eating turkey on toast, and drinking wine. And not necessarily in that order. But first, it's high time I slipped into that loungewear.......

Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night

So here we are - it's the 22nd December and only 3 more sleeps till the big man in red does his annual present drop. Or until the sales start- because I'm ashamed to say that Christmas Night in our house now includes a group log on to the M&S Christmas sale, (a tradition that's crept in over the last few years and will be all the more enjoyable on my new iPad.) By late Christmas Eve, the wrapping will be done, presents will be delivered, spuds peeled, table set and the blue ones will be left forlorn in the Roses tin. With the kids finally asleep, and Santa's work done, I'll place our two baby Jesus' into their respective cribs- one porcelain, the other knitted, and for me Christmas will have properly begun.
The run up to Christmas is frantic and it's so easy to get caught up in the buying frenzy. The increasing emails, warning of the last shipping days before Christmas, seem to fuel my inner panic that somehow, someone or something has been forgotten. The carol services, nativity plays, Christmas cards and decorations are, in theory, lovely milestones on the road to Christmas, but are often lost in my swirl of lists, late night shopping and too high expectations. But by Christmas Eve, the work is done. The fridge is packed with food, presents are under the tree and baby Jesus is in the crib at last. There are five healthy babes upstairs dreaming of Santa, and a husband to snog under the mistletoe. On Christmas Day, our house will be filled with family. Most of the people I love most in the world will be around our table, and those that aren't will ring from San Francisco, Sydney and (the tad less glamorous) Kilrea! All ages and stages will be represented, the noise and excitement levels will be off the scale but the plentiful wine will help knock the corners off. I may be cooking but we'll also be enjoying Angie's soup, Mary's carrots, my mum's stuffing and Mark's fruit salad. A big family, a joint effort, a lot of love. And yes, there probably will be times in the midst of the madness when I'll long for a minute's peace, but I'll find that later. For today, I feel deeply grateful for our health and our family and for the season of busy mad Christmas' that we're in right now. So, here's to you and yours- wherever you are, whoever you're with, quiet and peaceful, or filled with noise and people- I thank you most sincerely for bothering to read anything I've written over these past months and I wish you the very best of Christmas',  Emmaxx

Oh Come All Ye Faithful

As I walked past our hand knitted nativity set  (Christmas Cracker), I noticed that two new additions had arrived- a little Lego car and a T-Rex. My initial impulse was to remove them (after taking a photo obviously) but then I thought I'd leave them, because they'd been placed there so lovingly. And even though it does look as though the T-Rex may have a hungry ulterior motive, Christmas is for all God's creatures, I suppose!

My Christmas Mojo

It happened somewhere between the home made wooden peg reindeer and the blousy, margarita quaffing mermaid....that teensy glimmer of a Christmas sparkle. Last week, putting up the tree, had been for me just one more chore on a very long list. For the children, however, it was pure magic. So,on Friday evening, in an effort to reclaim that festive feeling, Handel's Messiah was on the stereo, and Loverboy had poured me a large glass of wine. The stockings, the crib, even the annoying, singing Tigger Santa were unearthed from their crumpled wrapping, with delighted enthusiasm. The new, knitted nativity scene took pride of place on the hall table and red lights twinkled above the kitchen window. The wreath was hung on the front door and the 'Santa Stop Here' sign placed outside, in clear view of any passing sleighs. Little Luke, too young to remember last Christmas, was beside himself with excitement at the sight of a tree in the hall. He ran around in dizzy circles shouting 'Wassat? Wassat?', until he simply  fell over, and then just sat there quietly, eyes wide, staring up at it.

Regrettably, for me, 'fake it till you make it' was the order of the day. I had one distracted eye on the increasing mess, the other on the couch that I actually hoped to sit on later. Trying to make the appropriate excited noises, while organizing everyone and everything around me, I wondered when I started focusing on the housework, and stopped noticing the sparkling lights and the shining eyes. Did I unknowingly trade in my Christmas mojo with responsibility upgrades? Or was it with the advancing years on the clock? And could I have a refund please?
Finally, it was time to hang the decorations- I've collected them since we got married and this has long been my favourite part. But somehow I'd forgotten. Each decoration is a memory, a story to tell, and quite unexpectedly, as I unwrapped them, those ghosts of Christmas' past whispered to me and I felt a wee bit of magic sneak back into my tarnished old grinch heart. There was the little embroidered heart we got on Walton's mountain in West Virginia, and the little lace one from the Amish country. Another from North Carolina, a mini Lady Liberty from New York and a beautiful glass blown one from Bermuda. There were the ones that family had brought me from Australia, South Africa,, Germany and California. Then there were all of the ' Baby's First Christmas' ones - those precious times and memories, liberally peppered with exhaustion. Most special of all, there were the little homemade creations with the year and child's name recorded on the back, the reindeer crafted from wooden pegs, the Christmas trees from lolly pop sticks, and the stars from sparkly pipe cleaners.
As I surveyed the tree, after the children had gone to bed, the lower half overcrowded with sparkles, the upper half almost bare, I experienced a real sense of peace. I also felt deep relief knowing that it hadn't been lost to cynicism, and if you look for it, your Christmas mojo can come out to play again. Although, I do think that as you get older, it's probably tinged with sadness-the haunting memories of good times past, the pain of loved ones gone. But maybe with that there comes a deeper appreciation? Because life's definitely not perfect, nor is Christmas, but we're all still here to feel and live and love, sometimes with that mojo, sometimes without, and maybe, at the end of the day, that's what it's all about?

Bah Humbug!

I'm just not feeling the Christmas spirit. I hope it'll creep up on me, because right now, I feel like I'm going through the motions for everyone else, and it all seems like a big old chore. When did that happen? The other night, as I tried to muster up a bit of enthusiasm for the Christmas tree lights switch on in the village? Or standing in the freezing cold for half an hour beforehand, only to have Luke burst into inconsolable, frightened tears, when it did eventually light up? Or maybe after that, when we argued over whether to queue outside the church hall to see Santa or head home? Undeterred, we did wait..only to finally get inside to encounter coils of others ahead of us, queuing to see, a frankly, crap looking Santa. So no, I'm not looking  forward to putting up the tree, I'm dreading it, and as for the Christmas cards, I haven't even started them yet, and you know what...I can't be arsed. What the hell is wrong with me? When did it all become too much bother?

I have another confession to make- my secret fantasy is to spend Christmas- alone -in a 5* hotel. Does this make me a bad person? I've really fleshed it out too- think crackling log fires, heavy garlands, flickering candles, carol singers (too much?), mulled wine, a four poster and most wonderfully of all, nothing to do except relax with books, magazines and the remote control. Then, a gorgeous Christmas dinner in a beautiful dining room with white tablecloths, expensive crackers and no highchairs. No gravy to make, no turkey to carve, no wrapping paper to recycle, no dishes to do.

Now, I know it's only an indulgent fantasy, and therein lies its allure. I'm 100% certain that if I were alone at Christmas, all the luxury in the world would suddenly become worthless, and my only wish would be to have all my family around me. Definitely, 90% certain of that. Truthfully, I really am very, very grateful for all the blessings that I've been given, and I know what I need to do and I WILL do it all. I just want to feel the sparkle a little while I'm doing it...and nope, I've just checked, and it's still not there.

I suppose its partly the daily grind- the everyday pain in the bum stuff that we all have to deal with- the shower being broken, leaking through internal walls and damaging the paintwork in 2 rooms. The hassle of a car being off the road, and a mechanic whose been coming for weeks, and let's face it, we all know it's a write -off anyway. But then, to admit that, means the expense of a new (to us) car and who needs that at Christmas? Much more significantly, my dearest friend and cousin's anniversary is just around the corner- she died 3 years ago and left a husband, four children, and a gaping hole of pain and grief like you wouldn't believe. I think of her every single day and life's so unfair and I can't help wondering why I'm here and she's not.

So, maybe it IS too much to ask for a little bit of the Christmas spirit but there it is.... I always was greedy. It's not that I'm not trying- I've brought out the big guns- the Christmas playlist is on the iPod, the Christmas toilet rolls are in the downstairs loo. I even took the children to see 'Arthur Christmas' yesterday and we're off to see (another, better) Santa tonight and putting up our tree at the weekend. I've got big plans for a viewing of 'Its a Wonderful Life' complete with a tin of Roses, and if that doesn't do it, nothing will! So, if I've rained on your Christmas parade today by being a grinch, I'm genuinely sorry. I promise you I'm working on it. Bah humbug!

Mistletoe and Wine

Two old Christmas friends!

I have a confession to make - one of my favourite Christmas songs is Sir Cliff's 'Mistletoe and Wine'. (Cue silence). I do realise, that now I've put that statement out there, there's no coming back from it, but as I was about to chat about festive musical picks, I felt that I had to be brutally honest. In my defense, it's partly the title- fuzzy memories of past Christmas', where copious quantities of one inevitably led to the hopeful loitering under the other...good times.... Although, I  DO quite like the song too, (except for the annoyingly lispy choirboy at the end, who's probably an annoyingly lispy estate agent somewhere now). I watched the Peter Pan of Pop on Graham Norton a few weeks ago- studying the face that time forgot, its hard to know if he's a poster boy for Botox or a dire warning - it really seems to depends on the lighting.
The focus on Christmas songs this week, started in an effort to motivate myself to continue my morning walks, and therefore offset a little of the inevitable December chocfest. So, I decided to fire up my iPhone with 'Em's Cracker Christmas', (I do appreciate a catchy title), and I've been trying to decide which holiday hits make the cut. I'm reminded of a radio station in Washington DC that used to play Christmas songs from the day after Thanksgiving in November until Christmas Day. Nothing else for an entire month, and unsurprisingly, with so much airtime to fill, much of it was complete and utter crap.( Think Vince Gill and Olivia Newton John crooning 'Deck the Halls'). But there was one song called 'The Christmas Shoes'  which caused me to almost crash the car every time because I was crying so hard. If you like a little bit of cheese, then this one's for you.  It's definitely not one for the Christmas party, but I might have to sneak it on there anyway, and have a good safe weep around the roads of Glenavy.
Obviously, Band Aid and Wham are both in there for old times sake, as well as Queen's ' Thank God it's Christmas' and I do so love a bit of Bing, scooping his way through 'White Christmas' as well. Springstein's 'Santa Claus is coming to town' is hard to beat and up there with the best of the best has to be The Pogues and Kirsty Macall's 'Fairytale of New York' . I mean, who hasn't joyfully shouted along with 'you scumbag, you maggot' to their significant other at a Christmas party?
'Baby, it's cold outside' has long been a personal favourite, but the Tom Jones and Cerys Matthews version has put me right off. I always thought it quite a flirty, cheeky little number, but the king of sleaze gives it a whole new edge of perv, that makes me quite uncomfortable. Dirty old goat.
'Santa Baby' is another good one, (the Kylie version not Madonna), and Mariah Carey's 'All I want for Christmas ' is a belter. Quite an eclectic mix so far wouldn't you say?  But I know when to ask for help, so it's over to you. Have you got any hot favourites for 'Em's Cracker Christmas' which will surely become my go-to Festive Compilation? Yours too, if you can stomach a bit of Sir Cliff! Ah, go on, go on, go on, go on!

A Christmas Cracker

Here's a little piece of Christmas kitsch that I just had to share with you- an entire hand knitted nativity scene! I know!  There's even a donkey! (I'm not quite sure who the shifty bloke in purple at the back is- he's already been cast as Joseph, a shepherd and now a king. With only 2 proper kings, I'm prepared to overlook the fact that this cheapskate has no present and no crown ). I've coveted one of these babies since I spotted it at my son's nursery a few years ago-a very talented local  lady makes them and  has donated them to the school and church-and yesterday the stars aligned and I became the proud new owner of a set myself....
We'd gone to Mass and it was the usual headmelting session with 19 month old Luke, except that  this time he upped his game and thoughtfully filled his nappy. (Better an empty house than a bad tenant, I suppose!) As the stench began to circulate, so did the knowledge that I had no spare nappies in my Tardis of a handbag. So Loverboy actually had to drive home to change him while I stayed on at Mass with the older four.
Afterwards, it was over to the annual Christmas apostolic sale in the primary school. This is always a bit of a mixed bag-there's the usual crap tombola- 7 year old Cormac 'won' a shower caddy, then understandably enough wanted his money back.(Born lucky-last year he won a travel iron at the same event.) There's also the ever popular bric a brac, craft and cake stalls and of course, Santa's grotto. In short, it's a good opportunity to chat, drink coffee, eat cake and pick up the odd bargain...and it's all for charity. So after a quick mooch around, then buying some gorgeous homemade butterfly buns, we got into the queue for Santa. There, an elderly grey haired 'elf' cleverly controlled the flow of mayhem into Santa's grotto, and the overexcited noise level, with free lollypops.  

Finally, in we went with the four boys and predictably enough, Luke began to scream when we placed him on 'Santa's knee. (Santa's glasses and suspiciously familiar Derry accent were reminicsent of a good neighbor of ours, but the children seemed none the wiser.) We got the money shot, were given the age and gender appropriate presents, and bid Santa good bye. With the wheels now coming off , we were on our way out the door, when I clocked the nativity scene on the craft stall and before you could say  'No room at the inn', I'd crossed her palm with silver and was its proud new owner.
It may possibly have to do with the fact that I was in the 'special' group for knitting and sewing in primary school (Why can't I make gloves too? Why?), and managed among other mishaps in secondary school to hem my baby doll nightie to my school skirt. (Sidenote-in actual fact, it was a baby doll nightie with matching knickers -in retrospect, surely a surprisingly inappropriate choice for 13 year old convent school girls? ) So possessing no flare or talent in this area whatsoever, I am in jealous awe of anyone who does, and the next best thing to actually purling Mary and Joseph myself, must surely be their procurement in the name of charity. If ever there was a holy, guilt free spend, a blessed bargain, a Christmas cracker, then this must be it!

December Thoughts

1. It's now just 3 weeks to Christmas. How did this happen? It feels like just the other day was Halloween. And just before that was summer. Is this an age thing?
2. After persistent pestering, I braved Tesco last Sunday afternoon with the 5 small people to purchase advent calendars. Who would have thought that 25 little pieces of Cadburys would cause this much excitement? (Helloooo-PMT calling!) To avoid confusion and subsequent war, names were stuck on each one and individual hiding places found. Despite fierce lobbying, they remained unopened til Thursday, when the chocolate shaped Christmas pudding was swiftly inhaled by all. There's ongoing feverish speculation about a numberless window on the calendars, and lively discussions as to when this one should be eaten. Yes...really.
3. Also on the Advent theme, I really want an Advent wreath but can't find them anywhere. And where on earth do you buy pink and purple candles anyway? If you can shine some light on this (sorry,sorry!) then please do share.
3. Overheard-
Cormac (age 7)- 'Doesn't Santa have 14 reindeer?'
Jude (age 10, speaking very knowledgably)- 'Oh no, Cormac, he's only got 9! Their names are Dasher, Blitzen.....etc.'
It's as though a certain 'There's no Santa ' conversation with Jude didn't happen last year and before you ask, he's not that good an actor. If he were acting, I would have been receiving knowing looks and big obvious panto winks.  I can only surmise that he's buried the memory of the chat entirely, or concluded that it was all a bad dream..
4. Artificial vs Real Trees- IMHO,  real trees are totally overrated , expensive and downright unpredictable. One year, we had a 16 foot tree in our hall- it took 3 days to decorate and we couldn't even reach the top to put the bloody star on. As for the pine needles? Don't get me started. Even getting the bugger in and out of the front door was just waaaaay too much hassle. Then last year, he brought home a baldy toilet brush excuse for a tree.... Costing 40 quid. We vajazzled it to the nth degree with lights and shiny decorations because although you can't polish a turd, you can sprinkle it with glitter and call it Christmas.And we did. So this year, I'm taking control and I'm on a mission to find a beautiful, full, green, botoxed creation, preferably with built in lights, possibly with fake snow. I'll let you know how I get on.
5. Staying with the tree theme, call me old fashioned but I'm just not a fan of November erections (sorry- couldn't resist!). It's double figures in December before the tree goes up around here, and it stays there till 6 January or until my excess needle alarm is triggered- whichever comes first.
6. Gingerbread latte from Starbucks (skinny milk, fat cream-they cancel each other out)  -When did this become an essential part of Christmas for me?  Haven't had one this year yet, but putting that right this weekend.
7. Out with the old, in with the new- pre-Christmas preparations for me include an annual toy room clear out,  and although it's a dreaded day long job, the shelves and the soul are cleansed when it's done. This year, I cunningly planned it on the day of the Strike, so several resident strikers crossed the picket line to help me fill the bin bags.
8. The beautifully innocent logic of a five year old Rory as he artfully delivers a crushing body blow of guilt, and instantly guarantees the top spot on my Christmas to-do list.
'Mummy, last year I asked Santa for a radio controlled aeroplane, but he brought me a radio controlled car instead. This year, I think I'm going to ask him for a car and maybe he might bring me my plane.' Ouch!
 9. Finally, it's Friday, it's December, it's wine o'clock. Make mine a mulled.....