Merry Christmas.

Well, one very excited, but very well-behaved, little boy is in bed, as is one curly-haired angel.

It was the church Christingle/nativity play this evening – Ruth was a tiny angel, and to make sure that she really did stand in the right place at the right time, I was a big angel. It hadn’t seemed too intimidating to dress up in a white surplice decorated with bits of tinsel in front of the regular congregation – I’d kind of forgotten that Christmas is a time when lots of people turn up at church. So yes, it was a trifle odd to be all dressed up in front of one of my former line managers… But hey – John was a shepherd!! (The other shepherds needed a little shepherding.) I’m just cross with myself for not getting someone to take our picture – 2 shepherds and 2 angels would have made an excellent Christmas picture for next year…

So it’s just time for me to wish everyone a very Merry Christmas.

And as last year, I’ll be lighting a candle here, and thinking of all those for whom Christmas brings more pain than joy.

Fuse? What fuse?

OMG – and I say again OMG (and that’s not entirely blasphemous, because I’m seriously in need of divine assistance on this one.)

Adam.

Today went quite well really – this morning Adam, Ruth and I slobbed around (well, they slobbed, I worked hard, but apparently achieved nothing – ah, yes, I remember, I folded the laundry – whoo hoo!). Then this afternoon we went to a crafty workshop at church, which was lovely, although Adam was losing it slightly by the end.

He was fine during dinner.

But then we got to bathtime.

First of all he announced
“I was a silly boy. I forgot to go to the toilet before I got in the bath.”
“OK then, do you need to go to the toilet now?”
“No.”
“Adam, have you just done a wee in the bath?” (He had a very odd expression on his face.)
“No.”
“So do you need to go to the toilet?”
“No.”
“So there’s no problem then. You don’t need the toilet, and you haven’t weed in the bath. Why are you talking about this at all?”
(Sits there looking quizzical.)
“Adam, are you sure you haven’t done a wee in the bath?”
“No, but I very nearly did.”
“So you DO need to go to the toilet then?”
“Yes.”

AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

At which point I left the room – in my current state of hormones my head is feeling sufficiently messed with without having to deal with that sort of conversation.

Then it was time to get him dried. This was achieved fairly well. He left the bathroom, I turned off the overhead heater and the light and left behind him.

“Mummy – you’ve forgotten to turn the heater off.”
“No, it’s alright, I’ve just turned it off.”
“No, you haven’t.”
“YES I HAVE.”
“NO MUMMY – IT’S STILL ON.”
“NO ADAM (if block capitals denotes shouting, what can I use to show screaming myself hoarse?) I TURNED IT OFF”

I’m afraid I refused point-blank to read him any stories. I said that if John agreed to do them then he could have some, but I wasn’t prepared to try if he’s in that mood.

While John took Ruth to clean her teeth, I did Adam’s physio with him. This involves stretching his hamstrings 3 times each side, 15 seconds each time. So he knows where he’s up to we count aloud. So he started muttering random numbers to put me off.

Now, to test whether or not you’ve been paying attention.

Was my reaction:

A to chuckle fondly and ruffle his hair as I called him a little tinker.
B to politely point out that I didn’t find that very helpful, and ask him kindly to stop.
C to grit my teeth and firmly remind myself that I love him dearly.
D to walk straight out of the room saying “Goodnight Adam” without giving him his usual bedtime cuddle.
E to rip off my face to reveal the flesh-eating monster underneath and devour the wretched leg in one gulp.

In fact I went with option B – the first time. When he did it AGAIN I went for D. In retrospect that sounds a lot calmer than I felt – rest assured there was a significant amount of petulance in the way I left the room – and I’m sure I don’t need point out that the above account neglects to mention all the wailing and whinging that occured while the various conversations were taking place.

And breathe.

(In the end I did go up and give him a goodnight cuddle – and I do love him dearly.)

In crafty news… er… it’s all been wrapped up ready for Christmas Day – so you’ll have to wait until it’s all unwrapped again before I can take pictures.

The little things

If you’ve been paying attention, you’ll know that I am on a gluten-free diet. This is because I’m Coeliac (or Celiac for American readers). This causes difficulties in all sorts of ways, but one of the most painful can be when taking communion. It’s easier in an Anglican church where wafers are commonly used, and much easier in my own church where they know me, and (usually!) have one ready for me. It’s particularly difficult when real bread is being used – especially in the years at Greenbelt where they used to balance a floury roll on top of the cup of wine to make distributing many many such cups to the many thousand-strong “congregation” – so that would be no elements for me then. It all goes to make “We who are many are one body for we all share in the one bread” quite painful – especially when, as one friend did, someone turns round and says “Except you!”

So this morning, when we went to St Albans Abbey it was a really big deal to discover that in the service sheet, along with the invitation to come up for Communion even if it wasn’t your church, the advice that “If you require a gluten-free wafer, please ask for one at the altar rail.” So I did, and they had one, right there – with absolutely no fuss and bother.

New Knitty

It’s up and although I’ll leave it to others to do a proper review (I need to get dinner in the oven) – in general I like it much better than the last one, and I love, love, LOVE this

(Oh, and I decided not to wait for the perfect picture – who wants airbrushed children anyway – I’ve chosen my four favourite pictures and made a mini-montage – I’ll let people see what my children are really like LOL.)

Trying to get that elusive shot...

So it’s that time – Christmas cards to be written, Christmas letters to be avoided. We have got into the habit of simply including a small snapshot of the children – we figure that that pretty much tells people what they need to know, and avoids some of the worst faux pas of Round Robin letter-writing.

So we need a decent photo of the children. Now regular readers will know that my children have the ability to be fairly photogenic. Not today.

Ah well.

More addictive stuff...

OK, so we’re all up to our ears in knitting and preparing for Christmas, so what we really really need is websites to waste spend loads of time on…

First up we have the Me Too game from CBeebies – great fun for four (or five) year olds, even more fun for adults (who are too stingy to cough up for proper Sims stuff… )

Secondly (thank you John) we have Make-a-Flake – design your own snowflake without the risk of paper cuts…

Saturday sky

Yay! I remembered!!!
– altocumulus (I think/hope – be gentle with me if I’m wrong!)

Two poorly children are getting better. Two poorly children are getting naughtier. Hey ho. I’m pretty lousy company when I’m feeling post-viral, so I guess I can’t really complain (but I do, I do!!)

And there’s been knitting. Knitting that isn’t grey. Knitting that can be blogged:

It’s the start of socks for my FIL – apparently he needs some good warm house socks. And as I’ve already said, who am I to argue. (As ever, taking pictures after dark and using a flash doesn’t do justice to the colours, but you get the general idea.)

Yarn: Twilley’s Freedom Spirit (my new yarny love)
Pattern: a hotch potch from Charlene Schurch’s Sensational Knitted Socks: Toe up (round toe), twin rib (aka Rib of Doom) with heel flap.
Needles: 4 random 3.25mm dpns I found lying around

(Oh, and I think I’m getting a little carried away with Strictly Come Dancing – I found myself voting for two of the couples tonight… )