Well, we’re crashing towards Christmas and it’s all set to be the season of discontent round here. I mean let’s face it, this month is the ultimate test of your parenting abilities or lack thereof.
And who the hell invented Christingle anyway, which in this family starts with the children pilfering any spare change before fighting over the candle and is followed by setting light to the kid in front’s hair with the flame before a quick trip to casualty after one of them has poked the other in the eye with the cocktail stick. And whoever thought playing “orange” bowling whilst waiting in A&E was going to be a good idea. What Christian message can I possibly extract from all that?
But that was last year and this month I surpassed myself by forgetting the service altogether and then collaborating with my beloved and coming up with an excessively elaborate lie about why we hadn’t taken them to the service. You know when you’re pretend crying and faking a candle wax allergy, you may have taken things too far!
And then this week there’s:
- The first of the nativity plays (cue my child being the only child with, dare I admit it, a grubby tea towel on his head amidst the other bespoke nativity costumes but at least I didn’t, like previous years, induce a febrile convulsion in my child by over heating them in a sheep costume. And yes I say “first of the nativity plays” because I’ve got a total of 4 performances to sit through which is more than any parent should have to endure).
- Christmas hat day (am I really going to be judged on my ability to read the school newsletter and digest this gem of a pain in the arse activity).
- The school disco (oh that’s only 6 trips to the school in one day then as all my children have different disco slots and don’t get me started on the clothes).
- The “take a home made decoration to school day” (why can’t they make that in school – I’m beginning to get hysterical!).
- The make a Boomerang and a Didgeridoo day. Just don’t ask.
- School open day (a complete cop out on the school’s part, when any self respecting parent is made to smile desperately at 22 meaningless school books and wonder why they can’t just give us an end of term report instead – that’s 45 minutes of my life I’ll never get back!)
And how is it that, with only 10 days left of this long and agonising term, I’ve only just realised that my daughter doesn’t have any shoes, school socks or shirts and that my middle son has been wearing his sisters trousers to school for the last 10 weeks!
And they call this the season of good will and wonder why most mothers secretly slip into a gin bottle at the first reasonable opportunity. Bring back Scrooge – all is forgiven! Surely next week will be easier?