Christmas

And I hope you all had a jolly happy one. Ours was very traditional. I chose and bought presents for our children, for our friends' children, and for Stephens' friends' children, learning from previous years not to engage in a discussion regarding these choices, which increases the workload and pressure on me whilst giving Stephen the comfortable feeling of having contributed in a meaningful way (for the record, Stephen, 'I don't think that's a good idea, why don't you get them something else?' is a contribution neither meaningful nor constructive). I organised the delivery of said presents in spite of the snow. The snow. Oh, oh, the snow. I attended - or arranged attendance - at the nativities, the end-of-term-concerts and the Christingle services. I even managed to get through the morning of Toby's Christingle, Beatrice's nativity and a rehearsal with the little group I've got together (all over 70 and very very keen) without letting anyone down. I planned the menus and shopped and cooked and made beds. When Stephen said it would be nice to take some cantucci into work, I made cantucci. When Beatrice wanted to take pink iced fairy cakes with glitter sprinkles to her nursery party, I made pink iced fairy cakes with glitter sprinkles for her nursery party.

And it's been magical. No one has screamed or lost their temper. The children have played beautifully. The huge pile of presents has been opened gradually and appreciated. Stephen has put down his iPad at least twice since he opened it on Christmas day.

And I made that Christmas.

The thing is, I used to be someone. Now I'm just everyone else.