Because what the internet needs is more wittering about rubbish parenting

Friday, 24 December 2010

Christmas Time...Mistletoe and Lack of Wine.

It's Christmas Eve! Woo and that.

The season of goodwill is upon us. No-one seems to have told The New'un this though. It's still making me feel a bit unpleasant. Although June is a lovely time to have a baby, and it's pretty much on purpose that I'm doing it again, it's got to be said that being in early pregnancy at Christmas is kind of rubbish. (Technically, I am in my second trimester, so not actually in early pregnancy anymore, and I'm doing loads better than I was, but I'm still having days of feeling terrible, so humour me). While everyone around you is indulging in copious amounts of Christmas spirit, you sit with your government-approved glass of water (to be perfectly honest, I'm not a one for following the 100% abstinence advice, but even so, getting blethered whilst with child is not something you should do. Your colleagues hop blithely from office to shops to bar, while you are in bed by 8.30. I'm not even a massive drinker, or that sociable, but there's something about Christmas that makes enforced sobriety and early nights a tad depressing.

Still, hopefully this time should be better than two years ago, when I was carrying The Toddler, and I felt so sick I could only manage one helping of Christmas dinner. Disgraceful behaviour.

In other news, The Toddler is slightly aware of Christmas this year. Every morning she stands in the living room shouting "Tree!" until I turn the fairy lights on. She also hosted her first Christmas party yesterday. Yes, for some reason I decided to invite 7 small children and their parents to come and hang out in my not-very-big living room. I had several people ask me if I was mad. That is a silly question that surely everyone know the answer to. It was actually very fun. I made too much food, and The Toddler ate most of it. Then threw most of it back up later that night. That's one good thing about feeling queasy, it means that Husband has to deal with the incidents like this.

Anyway, it's Waybuloo-o'clock, and I'd better go.

A very merry Christmas to you all, with love from Bad Mammy, Husband, The Toddler and The New'un.

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