What Christmas means for working mothers

I'm finally getting into the Christmas spirit. The tree is up. My little girl has broken up from nursery (sounds terrifyingly grown up!). The stress is starting and the bank account is fucked to put it bluntly. And I've yet to sort a pub for our 'stress and cooking free' Christmas dinner. Once again it's money and pressure that has prompted me to post this. Although I'm excited about time off and my family being together, I'm terrified at the prospect of not earning for a few days - it always seems to leave a huge dent in the monthly pay cheque. I yearn for the days when you took 5 days paid holiday and got 2 weeks out of the office - care and stress free. One of my companies is being very generous in doing a special festive Christmas payment run so that we get paid before the 25th. I'm hugely grateful to them for it. It's a shame the other firms I work for didn't want to jump on the joyous bandwagon, but I can understand why. I feel the pressure to earn and keep earning is constantly on my back. If I don't, I always fall short the next month - I get stung for bank charges and find myself in the same situation only worse and more peeved the next month. January is a notoriously long and hard and desperate month... I'm just hoping that I've done, and I'm doing enough to ensure that we'll get through Christmas and have a decent cheque in 2009. Sorry to sound so negative but it's reality... I can see why some people dread Christmas. It is in some ways such a happy and giving time; and in others a worry and a necessary evil. I should look at the true meaning of Christmas and be thankful, and I am, I really am. But in modern times it's hard to see it as something other than a money guzzling nightmare.

A Tragic Day...

Things have been really great lately. Busy, bright, fun and easy going. Money is tight but we're okay. Life is sweet.
Saturday morning comes and the 'phone rings. My husband answers it and by his voice I know it's for me. It sounds like my mum from the way my husband talks about the weather and doesn't swear. He passes the handset to me, but it's not my mother - it's my father. My father NEVER calls me - Never. Unless I've forgotten my mother's birthday when he's ringing to bollock me. I know instantly that something isn't right and my brain starts whirring through possibilities -what have I forgotten? What might I have said that has pissed someone off and hurt them? But I can't think. Then he tells me that he's got bad news. My uncle died last night. My heart instantly fills with sadness for my father - his younger brother - his soulmate - his partner in crime when they were kids. What must it be like to lose a brother? My dad is strong and quite matter of fact and even tries a bit of humour to lighten the conversation. But I'm just so sad for him and for my older brother who was so close to my uncle. For my aunt - who woke to find her husband cold and lifeless beside her in bed on Saturday morning. For their grandchildren - who will never get to taste his delicious cooking and explore his amazing mind. I'm just so sad. And I regret that he never met my daughter. You always regret the things you don't do, rather than the things you do, don't you?
I wonder where he has gone now. I hope it is somewhere nice. Where he will be happy and restful finally. It feels like a light has gone out; I just hope that one is illuminated somewhere further on his journey.

Growing Babies

I worked late last night - well 9pm. That's late for me. My brain disintegrates at about 7.45pm most days. If I'm lucky it will switch to auto pilot for an extra half hour. At 9pm I went to watch TV for an hour to relax before getting an early night which I'd been looking foward to for obvious reasons - my husband is away! Yesssss!!!!

As per normal there was nothing on. We have about 900 channels and every night the same problem - NOTHING on. I mean nothing! It gets quite depressing. I thank God for Sky Plus actually; at least then I can watch something I actually wanted to watch and couldn't at the time it was on. Last night's selection was Growing Babies - a new 2 parter on BBC 4 (felt quite cultural I must say). I'm intrigued by anything concerning babies, childbirth, pregnancy etc. Never was before having one, but now I'm fully converted. The miracle of life becomes quite an obsessive subject in my mind.

I was actually quite upset by the programme. I didn't watch it all to be fair, but the general jist is that your unborn child is 'warring' against you - the mother ship - for survival. Whilst I realise they take a lot from us and make us feel pretty crap for the best part of a year, I was under the lovely, romantic impression that pregnancy was a time of nurture, protection, unrequited giving and provision to ensure your unborn child has the best nutrition and chance of survival come the birth day. If you have an hour to spare take a look - there are 9 days left to watch it online.

BBC 4 Growing Babies

I'd love to hear what you think. Am I being ultra sensitive typical mother, ignoring facts and wanting my last, and any future pregnancies to be a joyful time. Not feeling as though the foetus is actually trying to bump me off so that it has a better chance in life. Good God. I think it's preposterous!! What are these people trying to do???!

Treasurer's Treasure! HO HO HO!

Well last night was Bingo night (even though I thought it was tonight - my brain has frozen with most of the UK lately..) and I have to say that I'm converted. I thought it was going to be full of the blue rinse brigade - plus the pikeys from 'the flats' in the village (I'm not a snob but if you saw them you'd understand); and silly youths getting drunk of a bit of festive mulled wine and taking the piss - but it wasn't. Although the pikeys did turn up. I saw a whole other side to the charming village I live in. Some of them reminded me of the weirdos from The Hills Have Eyes - I might have even had nightmares last night. Joking aside it was great. Full of festive cheer, generosity, high spirits and fun. We made a killing for the school and I won a bottle of champagne and some chocolates which will do very well in someone's stocking. Hooray!

I somehow managed to get my head around the money taking aspect and managed to prise a tenner out of most Bingo goers. No mean feat for me despite being the Pre School Treasurer! I also learnt quite a lot of Bingo lingo as we coined it. Eyes down - line - house - specials - on it's own, number one... I had a great time. I'd highly recommend it for a bit of fun, great way of making some cash for a worthy cause, and general living it up. It all goes on in the country.

Home Alone... again

I don't know if I've told you much about my husband. He's quite a unique character - in a positive and a negative way. He's fiercely independent. No one ever thought he'd get married. He's a bit of 'the glass is half empty' type of man. He can be unintentionally selfish sometimes. And there is one rule for him and another for everyone else. Those are the negatives by the way! On the positive side, he loves our daughter so tenderly it brings me to tears; his intentions are always to support and give to his family; he is passionate about the things he loves and he is incredibly loyal.
Anyway, the point is he's not here. He's in deepest darkest Wales at the moment. Working. He was in Spain for 8 days a fortnight ago on a jolly too. He loves motorbikes you see. He loves them more than me - I'm sure it was written on our marriage certificate somewhere. As he says whenever we argue about anything - 'bikes were in my life a long time before you were!'. Can you believe it?! I don't mind actually. I'm glad he is passionate about something. It gets him out of the house, he has a social life attached to it, and it motivates him.
So he had 8 days in sunny Spain while I shivered with a cold in miserable Devon, and now he's away in Wales working with his Dad. Well it's not quite Alicante, but it's still being away from home. I ought to be complaining but I'm not! I actually enjoy it when he goes away:

I can work without feeling guilty that I'm ignoring him.
I can eat junk and not worry that he's watching me and thinking I'm going to get fat(ter).
I am in charge of the TV remote! Hoorah!!!
My daughter's routine is stuck to without fail and she is always in bed by 7pm so I can enjoy a wind down glass of wine.
I don't worry that my possessions are scattered EVERYWHERE.
I can sprawl diagonally across our bed.

Brilliant!! It's just a pity that he's only away until Thursday.

All I want for Christmas....

Boo hiss. This credit crunch lark is really starting to bite. I don't think I would have noticed it if I was still a working girl in London (not that kind of working girl!)... gloriously single, selfish, affluent, well groomed, didn't know the meaning of the word tired... but now with kids, a husband and extended family to think about buying presents for, you really start to notice the pinch. Not to mention mortgages, credit cards - and bank charges. My fucking bank took £300 in charges last month... it left me skint, crying, depressed, anxious and seriously pissed off for weeks - I still haven't got over it in case you are wondering. When you work all the precious hours you can muster, in and around being a full time mother of a toddler, and being a full time housewife, and then half of what you earned goes up in smoke, into some Lloyds effing Bank fat cat's bonus pocket, it really grates. That money was set aside to pay for an old loan payment and also finish off my Christmas shopping... Which is now still waiting, sat on a wish list on amazon.co.uk. This month isn't much better, although one good thing is our mortgage which thankfully has come down considerably. But no matter how much money you make or save, you hardly notice it - you just notice that it always goes straight back out of your bank account. Who actually manages to save any money at the moment?

So it's got me thinking about what is important this Christmas. And actually it's not the presents, although I want to treat my daughter to a few Peppa Pig bits and pieces. It's about my family, my immediate family being together. It's about good will, fun, sharing and caring. It's about watching The Snowman and the Christmas Eastenders. And then it's about looking to 2009, how I can improve our situation financially. I think I will apply for more work and really knuckle down and get more coming in. That will be my New Years resolution... So it's all about positivity, checking reality and hoping that things will get better. But for now everything is fine. Gone are the gluttonous Christmases of late, which is no bad thing.

'Tis The Season To Be Jolly... fa la lalalaaaaaaaAAAAA!!

AAAHHHGGGGHHHH!!! Sometimes I just HATE Christmas, don't you? I am usually such a positive person and am pretty happy most of the time but Christmas really stresses me out. It's not the present buying, the cooking, the decorations, the noise or the same old Christmas tunes belting out of the radio... it's the F word. Shhh... families. Did you hear that? Sometimes I just can't be doing with them. It's even worse now I'm married and have a child. It's not that my parents want to see my or my husband, but they want to see our little girl; they live two counties away so it always has to be an overnighter when we see them.. this fills my husband with dread - he's antisocial at the best of times, and to make matters worse - he and my parents don't see eye to eye, never have, never will... My husbands idea of Christmas is slippers on, remote in hand, Quality Streets at the ready. My parents like us all to join in - silver service, champagne, let's get pissed and play charades. Chalk and very smelly stilton cheese...

My in-laws (who I get on with very well) are always at home and always have their other children and granchildren over for Christmas lunch. This is all well and good except that the grandchildren run the show. Call me old fashioned but I expect to be able to sit down for Christmas dinner and stay at the table throughout (bar trips to the lavatory or to top up drinks etc). I don't expect kids to be zooming around on scooters, not sharing things - screaming MINE! every 5 minutes and basically not allowing any grown up conversation to exist while they are conscious. Maybe Christmas dinner in the evening would resolve this, but my mother in law insists on lunch time. And surprisingly she is more than happy to let the kids run riot, behave like monsters and drive everyone potty. My husband and I can't cope with the level of noise, level of bad behaviour, the stress that it causes as the parents of the badly behaved kids get frowned on and in turn get the hump and behave badly. Phew.

Roll on the 25th - we're off to the pub!