Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

Usually I get all nervous and irritated when plans change at the last minute, but today the snow altered my day completely and I managed to go with the flow and even quite enjoyed myself.

My original plans for the day were to take Emily to her paediatrician appointment, wrap Isabel's pressies at lunchtime while she was at school, and then take her to a friend's birthday party in the evening. But none of this happened - we woke up to loads of snow (looks beautiful!), and to the news that the school was closed. No big deal, since it was the last day of term anyway. Then Emily's appointment was cancelled (fortunately moved to next week, amazing that they had another appointment slot available before Christmas), and the birthday party Isabel was due to go to was also cancelled. So we spent a lovely day at home - went out for about half an hour but beat a retreat when lots of snow went down Isabel's wellies. Tomorrow's job is to buy her some longer waterproof trousers, and better gloves! We watched The Snowman and Father Christmas in the afternoon and ate mince pies, and generally felt very seasonal. And Emily was in better humour than in recent days since tooth number 2 is now through. Good times, good times.....!

The etiquette of Christmas cards

I'm generally a person who's pretty good with a card. I send birthday cards, thank you cards, sympathy cards - you name it, I'll card it. And this means that, come Christmas time, I generally have a lot of cards to send. Total this year came to around 80, while Isabel sent 36, so well over 100 went out from our house. I even managed to post them all pretty early.

However, now comes the etiquette issue. I've already, to my great irritation, received cards from people I didn't send cards to. Do I quickly scrabble around to get a reciprocal card out? Or just put them on the list for next year? And how much should one write in a card - just a quick "love from..." or a full blown message? This year I took the rather cheesy step of putting a little sticker in each card with a picture of Isabel and Emily, which I'm sure also breaches some kind of British etiquette rule. Made me feel very American doing this, but I thought it was a nice way of showing everyone how much they'd grown up, and it was a very cute photo. Better, and cheaper, than printing Christmas cards with them on it! Apparently, in the US you can order cards with a photo on the front and a personalised message inside, and then you just address them and post them. Sounds very tempting, but it's not that difficult to spend a couple of hours once a year writing "love from..." in each card. I think the sticker idea is as far as I'll go down that particular road for now....but I may be tempted if the number of cards I have to send goes well into triple figures!

Christmas Tree Etiquette

It's that time of year again when someone (OK, not me, I admit) has to go up into the loft to extract the Christmas decorations, and into the garage (again, not me, it's chilly out there) to get our tree in a box. I am slightly ashamed to admit we have a tree in a box, but not that ashamed - there are several good reasons behind our decision, and although I do feel we should have a real one, deep down I'm perfectly happy with the one we have. Because I'm naturally cheap.

Last year, it being our first Christmas in this house, we went to the local Christmas Tree Farm (yes, there is one, in fact there are three near us!) to get ourselves a tree. As we wandered up and down the aisles it began to occur to us how flaming expensive Christmas trees are. We had no idea - after all, until then we'd lived in a flat and made do with an Argos tree in a box. The more we wandered the worse it got - the nice trees cost a fortune, and the reasonably priced ones were either runty, oddly-shaped, or looked like all their needles might fall off in the car on the way home. Added to which, they were all really prickly. And this was the element which tipped the balance - we managed to persuade Isabel that these trees were too prickly and that our friendly old tree in a box was much easier to decorate!

This year we cut out the middleman and just went straight for the tree in a box. It's cheaper, it's a nice regular shape and it has real (yes, real!) pine cones on it. It's not as classy as a real tree, but since it's been decorated by a five year old, class doesn't really come in to it. Not for us the beauty of a colour theme, oh no. Our tree has had everything we own chucked at it in a fairly random way, but it still looks beautiful because it's ours. It does have a new angel this year though, of which it should be very proud. And some cute elves sitting underneath it!

The new angel, by Isabel and Mummy. No, of course the feathers don't go on the wings, don't be ridiculous.

The tree, with its oddly regular shape.

Still looks magical in the dark with its lights on.

And the elves are pretty magical too.

Baby food - the labels lie!

I gave Emily a Cow & Gate pot of Peach and Apricot Melba for dessert at lunchtime today, thinking it would make a nice change from apple puree-based products. How naive I was. Apples must be the cheapest fruit to use for baby food, because only 17% of the Peach and Apricot pot was actually made up of peaches and apricots. The vast bulk of it (61%, should you be interested in the detailed stats!) was, you guessed it, apple. I thought it tasted just like the apple one I'd given her a few days before. What a scam. I was a bit cheesed off at the Banana Dairy Dessert too, which sounded yummy and was quite nice except that it was really just banana yogurt. I guess that doesn't sound as impressive. Still, at least it can be stored in the cupboard and not in the fridge. How do they do that anyway - why does it not go off? On second thoughts, don't tell me......

I usually taste everything I give Emily to make sure it's alright, and also because I'm greedy! Her main courses are all home made but I do sometimes use these fruity pots just for convenience. Most of the food tastes really nice if rather oddly textured, but I took a sip of her bottle of formula today (checking the temperature - I'd accidentally over-heated it and wanted to make sure I'd managed to cool it down enough before giving it to her) and it's disgusting! Yuk! And I am someone who likes milk and will gladly drink it neat, unlike Husbandio for whom milk is akin to poison. Formula really does taste horrid - a combination of condensed milk, single cream and iron filings. Seriously, it tastes really metallic. Ugh, vile, I've had to pour myself a large Pinot Grigio to wash away the taste. Hard life!

Am I trying to squeeze too much in?

I was almost late picking Isabel up from school today, which has never happened before. Usually I'm a couple of minutes early and look scornfully at other parents sprinting through the school gates after the bell's rung, panting and red in the face. But that was me today. I met up with my NCT group and slightly underestimated how long it would take me to get back - I arrived about 60 seconds before the bell, but had to park on a roundabout and then battle the buggy out of the boot so Isabel was already in the playground looking around nervously when I arrived. Thank goodness I wasn't any later, she might have wandered out trying to find me. She now knows to stay by her classroom until I arrive, should I ever be late again!

Which may well be tomorrow. I've booked myself a crazy day, which will go as follows:
Shower
Children dressed and breakfasted
School run
Emily's Babyland class
Drive to Twickenham
Lunch with school friends
Drive back home
School run
Collect mother from train station
Take Isabel to swimming lesson
Feed children and rest of family
Bathtime and bedtime
Out for curry with the other mums from Isabel's school year
Pass out

I must be mad! But I've prepped as much as possible - lunch for both children is made, cup of tea for breakfast has been laid out, Isabel's school bag is packed, Emily's day bag is packed, but I must have forgotten something....ah yes, charge iPod, I'll be needing The Now Show and Jonathan Ross to accompany me on the drive. Wish me luck......!

Doin' the Twist and the Mashed Potato

On Saturday night, Husbandio and I went out together for only the second time since Emily was born more than seven months ago. Somehow getting a babysitter usually seems too much like hard work (or too expensive, unless you can persuade a family member to help out!), but we made the effort for once, and strutted our stuff down at the school disco. Isabel was quite jealous, until I explained that this school disco was only for mums and dads - they have a separate one for the kids in February, which I believe I'm meant to be helping to organise (mental note to find out more about that after Christmas!).

We went for a curry first, and missed the games they'd organised at the disco, which I don't think I'm too upset about. The disco itself was really fun - the school hall was decorated in black and white, balloons floating above each table and little table decoration sprinkles, it all looked lovely. It could have been a scene out of a sitcom though - all those middle-aged parents who don't get out much, dolled up in their finery and dancing as if their lives depended on it. It's a shame that white middle-aged, middle class parents don't generally count dancing among their many talents, so it was quite a funny sight - lots of enthusiastic miming to classics like Come On Eileen and even an impromptu air guitar jam session when the DJ played an AC/DC track. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. But we went along with it and joined in the dancing, aided by some pear cider, mojitos, a bottle of red wine and some spiced rum! And didn't even suffer too much the following day - felt a bit fuzzy round the edges, but nothing a nice afternoon nap couldn't fix. Good times, good times, as my brother Charlie would say - having boogied the night away and written all my Xmas cards I'm starting to feel quite festive!

Keeping the tradition going

Today was the day of our annual work Christmas lunch, an occasion which I love and cherish. I had a panic a few weeks ago when I thought I might not be able to go due to lack of babysitter, but Husbandio very selflessly arranged to take the day off to look after Emily and collect Isabel from school so that I could swan off into town and drink myself silly. And I do truly appreciate it!

In the end it was not the heavily booze-laden occasion which it has been in previous years, but still a very good time was had by all. We failed to stick completely to the budget, but since the CEO was there to sign and didn't seem too cross we think we may have got away with it! The food was yummy although portion size was not what it could have been (translation - I could have eaten the whole meal twice!). For the record, I had smoked eel (with some rice thing sandwiched between two slices of beetroot - there's always beetroot in these bloody posh restaurants), duck a l'orange (with some kind of beetroot jus, as if to add insult to injury) and then posh Xmas pud. Yummy, but small.....

Drinks-wise, I had champers to start then some white wine. In past years I've had white with the starter, red with the main, and several amarettos to wash down the pud. Those were the days - lunch starting at noon, and not leaving the venue until closing time, eleven hours later. Apparently, one year one member of staff got the wrong coat from the cloakroom attendant but figured it was nicer than her own coat so kept it. And on another occasion one of us (not me, I hasten to add) was taken back to the office after the lunch on the grounds of not being able to get home by himself. He fell asleep leaning his head on the edge of the boardroom table, creating a large indentation on his forehead which lasted well into the next day. These are really quite mild stories, I admit, but we've had some marvellous times at our Christmas lunches, so thanks to the company, and cheers!