Blogging 2010 - The Conspiracy Theory

Following recent excellent posts from A Modern Mother and Who's The Mummy about their predicitions for mummy blogging in 2010, I would like to offer an alternative voice on this matter. So I give you:

Blogging Predictions for 2010: The Conspiracy Theory

1. Single Parent Dad, The Dotterel and Dad Who Writes will form a Status Quo tribute band called 'Dad's Rock'. They will enter, and win, Britian's Got Talent and will go on to have a No 1 smash with their debut single: 'Blogging All Over The World'.

2. Sandy at Baby Baby will become an advisor to the newly elected PM David Cameron and will be a regular panelist on Question Time.

3. Insomniac Mummy will have a 72 hr blogathon and will set a Guinness World Record for the highest number of blog posts and tweets in a 72hr period. She will then, finally, get a good night's sleep.

4. David Cameron will be a keynote speaker at the Mummy Bloggers Conference, but will be highly insulted when someone throws a packet of Custard Creams at him.

5. A Modern Mother, Sticky Fingers, Jo Beaufoix, Maternal Tales and Rosie Scribble will form a rival group to 'Dad's Rock'. Their 5-piece 'Mum's Aloud' will have the year's most downloaded single with 'Mum's Just Wanna Have Fun'.

6. The names Tweet, Twitter, Technorati, Hashtag and Blogger will become popular baby names.

7. Potty Mummy will have to start doing a British Mummy Blogger of the day podcast to keep up with the numbers of new bloggers coming on the scene.

8. Josie at Sleep Is For The Weak will be selected as a judge for the Booker Prize due to the phenomenal success of her weekly writing workshops.

9. There will be several blogger weddings featured in Hello! Magazine.

10. We will see Violet Posy , Brits in Bosnia , and Who's The Mummy competing for glory in the final of a special bloggers edition of 'I'm A Celebrity Get Me Out of Here'.

11. All members of British Mummy Bloggers will be offered free travel on new no frills airline 'FlyBMB'.

12. The concept of 'vlogging' will lead to a massive surge in sales of Touche Eclat.

And on that bombshell, I am heading for a much needed break so I wish you all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. See you in 2010!

Blogging 2010 - The Conspiracy Theory

Books Glorious Books

In my final festive guest post, I am very delighted to introduce the multi-talented and hugely successful author, Sarah Webb. Sarah tell us why she simply wants books this Christmas, and all year round!


All I want for Christmas is . . .
book tokens and books. I've worked in the book business all my life, as a children's buyer and marketing manager and now as a writer. I've worked for all the 'greats' in Ireland: Eason, Waterstone's, Hodges Figgis, DuBray Books and I've written three guides to children's books.

Unfortunately because of this people are afraid to give me books as presents. They think I have every book I could ever want. But the truth is I love books, books are my life and I'd like nothing better than to open chunky square packages on Christmas morning. Coffee table travel books with glossy pics of places I'd love to visit - currently Barcelona and Iceland; easy to read (I have 2 small children and a teenager and am wrecked by bedtime) yet engrossing and well written novels by authors I may not have come across; books on cd for the car; beautiful blank notebooks to scribble ideas in - I'm really not at all hard to buy for. And I adore book tokens - aren't they wonderful - giving you guilt free shopping trips to your favourite book shops. Bliss!
And children's books. I've never grown out of two things: Abba and children's books. The odd time people give me special editions of old children's books but it doesn't happen half often enough. So I end up buying them for myself! A first edition of Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak (my fave book of all time) is top of my wish list.

If you have book lovers in your life, do give them books or book tokens. Like me they will thank you for it. And if you have little 'uns at home here are some of my favourites from 2009 for the younger ages:


Yummy by Lucy Cousins - a stunning hardback collection of fairy tales for young readers of 3+. Vibrant, glowing illustrations. One of the best books of the year.

Ten Little Fingers and Ten Little Toes by Mem Fox and Helen Oxenbury - first published in 2008 but recently out in paperback, this is one of the most charming picture books I've come across in many years and bound to become a children's classic. Gentle text, beautiful watercolour illustrations of bouncing babies - a real winner for birth+.

Lauren Child's Who Wants to Be A Poodle sees her back on form with a delightful, witty story and clever collage illustrations. Age 3/4+.


Early readers will love the new Mr Gum books by Andy Stanton or Tiger Lily books by Maeve Friel; and if your young reader of 8+ hasn't discovered the Wimpy Kid books yet, press them into his or her hands right now. They are hilarious! Greg is smart, witty but is always in trouble for his efforts. Funny, funny, funny!




So what do I want for Christmas - well, books and more young readers enjoying books of course!


Sarah Webb is the author of the Amy Green Teen Agony Queen series and has also written eight bestselling adult novels including Anything for Love. She is also the children's book reviewer for the Irish Independent and writes a popular book blog. She is on the Board of Children's Books Ireland, the national organisation for books and reading and is passionate about children's books and getting children reading. She lives in Dublin with her partner and three children.

For more information see http://www.sarahwebb.ie/ or http://www.askamygreen.com/

Books Glorious Books

Surprise me Santa - please!

Mums and Dads, Lords and Ladies*, I am delighted to introduce to you my guest blogger, Susanna Scott. Known to most as mummy blogging diva 'A Modern Mother', Susanna is the original and still the best; the Aretha Franklin/Whitney Houston of the blogosphere, if you will. I'm thrilled that she has popped round for a glass of mulled wine to tell us what it is that she wants for Christmas.
*they read blogs too you know

Susanna, take it away.......

All I want for Christmas is...
What do I want for Christmas? My husband asked me this over the weekend, and I have to admit that it annoyed me just a wee bit. Though asked in innocence and with good intentions, it highlighted the fact that I am responsible for the majority of Christmas cheer in our household. Just by asking the question, "What do you want for Christmas?" puts the onus back on me. It would be really nice if, in addition to choosing gifts for the girls, two sets of grandparents and endless cousins, I didn’t have to then make suggestions for myself.

Does that sound selfish?

I put a lot of effort into choosing Christmas gifts for people. I’ll listen carefully for that hint dropped into a conversation. A magazine left open on a page. The colour of a much needed kitchen accessory they don’t have. I rarely ask people what they want – the exception being my children. I hate asking, because I know it’s a hard question to answer.

Who knows – maybe I get my gifts all wrong. Maybe my mother-in-law hates the scented soaps from Crabtree and Evelyn and the cousins don’t like the GAP T-shirts.

One year, hubby was so busy travelling that I bought and wrapped my own gift! An Orla Kiely bag as it happens, with big red coffee cups on it. I still use it. But I could have bought it any day of the week.

So what did I tell him I wanted? A massage. From him.

Susanna has three children, all born within a three-year time span. She has been a working mum and a stay-at-home mum, with some variations in between. After a career in journalism and marketing, she took three years off to reflect on how the heck she went from charging around Europe to charging around the play park. She recently re-entered the workforce, and is pleased that she hasn’t lost as many brain cells as she feared. You can read more at her blog, A Modern Mother. Susanna is also the founder of the British Mummy Bloggers network and is planning the first Mummy Bloggers Conference in the UK in July 2010.

Surprise me Santa - please!

All I want for Christmas is...erm, nothing!

My second guest this week is the one, the only, Sir* Tim Atkinson. Legendary daddy blogger extraordinaire and better know to most as 'The Dotterel' or as the genius behind a daddy's-eye-view of life in 'Bringing Up Charlie'. A self-proclaimed Victor-Meldrew-in-waiting, this daddy can make the most annoying of experiences a pleasure to read about.

*he's not actually a Sir but hey, the Queen may be reading and if she's looking for ideas for the New Year's Honours List, no better man m' lady.

All I want for Christmas...

Right. Guest Post. Would you like to write a guest post, asked Hazel. Of course, no problem, I replied. I was flattered to be asked. This is my first-evah guest post! Yes! (No pressure, then.)

Ok, ok, so... subject? Christmas (obviously). It's a Christmas Post after all. All I want for Christmas is the title. Precisely. So. What do I want for Christmas? Peace on Earth? Me two front teeth? You see, I never, ever know. It's the same with birthdays. People ask me and I 'umm' and 'err' and end up saying 'nothing - anything... I'm not fussy' which is not exactly helpful.

'What do you want?' people ask. I don't know what I want but I know I want a present of some kind. I mean, I don't. I don't want anything, really. But if someone's going to give me something please let it not be money. Don't misunderstand me. Money's nice. Money's good. Some of life's best things aren't free, and there's never enough of it in the Dotterel household. No. But a present has to be... a present. Doesn't it?

Which brings me to the point, I suppose. I actually like buying other people presents. I enjoy thinking about the kinds of thing they'd like. I sometimes have a flash of inspiration in July, and if they're not around I'll buy someone their Christmas present there and then. I like to think I know the people that I buy for well enough to think of something. And if I don't, well... I'll try to get to know them just a little better. Or not buy them anything. (Joke.)

But it's no joke, really. All I want for Christmas isn't a gold watch or the latest blu-ray gadget or some 'character' Christmas socks or personal, embossed handkerchiefs. I don't want gift books, cufflinks, new ties (never wear them anymore) or a car de-icer, scraper and emergency flashlight gift-set. Nor did I ever want the comedy soap-on-a-rope, the fizzing bathcubes, Guinness bubblebath or eau de dog-basket.

No.

I'll tell you what I want, what I really really want for Christmas. It is this. I want to get the present-choosing business aboslutely right. I want to have succeeded in surprising somebody by giving them something that they didn't know that they were getting, maybe didn't even know they wanted, but that hits the 'just what I always wanted' button the minute they open it.

Not much to ask for, is it? I've been trying it every year for (ahem) rather a long time. I've had my fair-share of near misses. And a few unmitigated disasters. (Actually, you can make a comedy virtue out of buying the most unsuitable gifts for someone, sometimes. But that's another story.)

So what do I want for Christmas this year, next year and for every year to come? The perfectly planned, precisely-chosen, exquisitely thought-out present. For someone else, not me. After all, it's better to give than to receive...

Tim Atkinson (aka The Dotterel) is a stay-at-home dad and author. His blog - Bringing up Charlie - charts his progress as his wife goes back to work, leaving him holding the baby (and changing the nappies). He is also the author of 'Writing Therapy' available on Amazon, or via his own website.

All I want for Christmas is...erm, nothing!

Be my guest

This week, I am most excited to welcome a number of very special guest bloggers to Hot Cross Mum. It's kind of like a TV 'Christmas Special', but without the added feeling of having eaten and drunk too much. Each guest has written a post on the theme 'All I want for Christmas...' and all have offered a uniquely brilliant take on this annual dilemma.

My first guest, Jenna McCarthy is an internationally published writer and author of 'The Parent Trip: From High Heels and Parties to Highchairs and Potties', and 'Cheers to the New Mom/Dad!' Jenna's work has appeared in more than fifty magazines, on dozens of web sites and in several anthologies including the popular Chicken Soup series.

So, without further ado I give you, Jenna McCarthy (thunderous applause, hysterical cheers...)

All I Want For Christmas...
When I was asked to write this guest blog post, the first thing that popped into my mind was a Land Rover. (Er, I mean world peace! World peace, of course, was my first thought; then Land Rover.) But since I know a new car’s not in the budget, the only other thing I could think of was for my wonderful family to allow me to pee—uninterrupted and with the bathroom door closed—for a whole week. Or even a day. Fine, a couple of lousy hours. Alas, if past experience is any indication, I’m pretty sure I won’t be unwrapping peace-on-the-potty this Christmas either. The good news is, struggling to come up with my own gimme-list prompted a delightful discovery: I really don’t need a single bloody thing.

And yet, dozens of my nearest and dearest are quite possibly right this very minute forking over their credit cards for some sweater/stationary/Snuggie (please God, not another wearable blanket! That thing was supposed to be a joke, wasn’t it?)… for me. Because it’s the holiday season, damn it, and people exchange gifts. After all, nothing else says “you’re special to me” quite like a 40-pound fruitcake, right?

Well, not me. Not this year. I’m not trying to be heartless—just practical. In fact, I have decided I’m not even going to attempt to spit-shine the kids and force them to sit still long enough to get a decent photo for the holiday cards I’d spend hundreds of dollars on and which would wind up in landfills and fireplaces around the globe. No, this year, in lieu of cards and gifts, my inner circle will be receiving a nice “holiday letter” from me that will go a little (or a lot) like this:

Dear Family, Friends and Cherished Loved Ones,

I am writing today to apologize in advance for the fact that you will not be receiving a holiday gift from me this year. Please don’t take it personally; it’s not your fault, and I hope you know that you are extremely important to me. Unfortunately, I have exhausted all of my time and money on people I know and love far less than you.

First, there’s the time issue. You may not have realized this but I am extremely popular. I have eleven holiday parties to attend in the next two weeks alone, each of which necessitates a hostess gift and more often than not, a covered dish that serves fifty to one hundred people. (Isn’t the whole idea of a party to provide people with food? I can eat my own sausage balls at home without having to pay a babysitter or put on mascara. But I digress.) I will be enjoying these parties in between attending the kids’ respective school Holiday Extravaganzas, dirtying my windows with faux-snow (which I’m hoping will distract the children from the fact that they’re not getting a trampoline—again—this year), sweeping up a steady stream of broken ornaments, baking bottomless batches of reindeer cookies (slice-and-bake, but still), working overtime to compensate in advance for the three days I plan to take off work while the kids are out of school, running back to the drug store for yet another roll of Scotch tape and every single day cleaning up at least one pile of tinsel-filled cat puke.

So while I really care about you on a deep and profound level—and I certainly understand, theoretically at least, that my holiday energies should be directed toward my nearest and dearest—I just don’t have time to shop for a personalized token of my affection for you. (I know, you pick up gifts all year long and stash them away so you can avoid this mess. Naturally you wrapped and shipped the entire haul by Halloween, too. I want to be like you, really I do. But I’m not.)

Even if I did have a spare hour to hit Target or scour eBay, there’s the money part. I don’t have any. I’m not eating out of dumpsters or anything, but any disposable income I might have had has already been fully disposed of. I’ve written more checks this month than a politician does during an entire campaign and bought more useless trinkets than my grandma owned in her lifetime.

It may seem unfair, and it is: Unlike you, the recipients of these gifts do not love me unconditionally; in fact, I don’t even know some of their first names. Nevertheless, a combination of obligation and fear has rendered me penniless. There’s my kindly mail carrier (I get a lot of mail and the man has never once given me a dirty look, even as he limps up my front path buried behind a stack of Pottery Barn catalogs), the trash and recycling collectors (who if recognized promptly and sufficiently tend to overlook the overflowing post-holiday bins and cheerfully whisk the excess away), my hairdresser (the woman is booked six months in advance but somehow manages to squeeze me in when I have a root emergency; can you blame me if I’m not willing to jeopardize this relationship?), our arsenal of babysitters (they put up with our kids and we are pretty sure they don’t steal our stuff), the FedEx and UPS guys (both of whom have great legs, wear shorts all year long and bring treats for the dog), the gal who scrubs my toilet once a month (she scrubs my toilet!), the person of unknown age, sex and gender who faithfully launches our newspaper almost all the way to the front door in the darkest pre-dawn hours (I’ve grown fond of this luxury), my pedicurist (she bows before me, kneads my soles and wields extremely sharp tools; that one’s a no-brainer ), the kids’ teachers (because if they don’t deserve a little holiday cheer, I don’t know who does) and of course the gardener (who actually saves me from having to tip a manicurist as well as a pedicurist, so in a way he’s a wash). Thankfully, we walk the kids to school, or I understand the bus driver would be expecting a handout as well.

I do hope you understand, and if you’ve already bought a gift for me, feel free to return it, re-gift it, keep it for yourself or hang onto it until my birthday. Maybe your hairdresser might like it? Just a thought.

Love,
Jenna

p.s. You might be happy to note that I no longer have time to work out, so there will be no personal trainer walking around with the iPod you were hoping to get from me.

Jenna currently is hard at work on her next project, a practical guide to living with and continuing to love the TV-addicted, listening-impaired, not-quite-handy man that you married. In her spare time, she wonders what she used to do with all of her spare time. Visit her online at www.jennamccarthy.com

Pop in again tomorrow to see what my next guest, Tim Atkinson (aka 'The Dotterel') has to say on the matter.

Be my guest

The Twelve Days of (a parent's) Christmas

(you know the tune!)

On the first day of Christmas,
my children gave to me
A night of unbroken sleep.

On the second day of Christmas,
my children gave to me
Two dirty gloves,
And a night of unbroken sleep.

On the third day of Christmas,
my children gave to me
Three chewed up pens,
Two dirty gloves,
And a night of unbroken sleep.

On the fourth day of Christmas,
my children gave to me
Four teddy bears,
Three chewed up pens,
Two dirty gloves,
And a night of unbroken sleep.

On the fifth day of Christmas,
my children gave to me
Five broken things.
Four teddy bears,
Three chewed up pens,
Two dirty gloves,
And a night of unbroken sleep.

On the sixth day of Christmas,
my children gave to me
Six hours playing,
Five broken things.
Four teddy bears,
Three chewed up pens,
Two dirty gloves,
And a night of unbroken sleep.

On the seventh day of Christmas,
my children gave to me
Seven dirty nappies,
Six hours playing,
Five broken things.
Four teddy bears,
Three chewed up pens,
Two dirty gloves,
And a night of unbroken sleep.

On the eighth day of Christmas,
my children gave to me
Eight cups with milk in,
Seven dirty nappies,
Six hours playing,
Five broken things.
Four teddy bears,
Three chewed up pens,
Two dirty gloves,
And a night of unbroken sleep.

On the ninth day of Christmas,
my children gave to me
Nine bedtime stories,
Eight cups with milk in,
Seven dirty nappies,
Six hours playing,
Five broken things.
Four teddy bears,
Three chewed up pens,
Two dirty gloves,
And a night of unbroken sleep.

On the tenth day of Christmas,
my children gave to me
Ten floors for sweeping,
Nine bedtime stories,
Eight cups with milk in,
Seven dirty nappies,
Six hours playing,
Five broken things.
Four teddy bears,
Three chewed up pens,
Two dirty gloves,
And a night of unbroken sleep.

On the eleventh day of Christmas,
my children gave to me
Eleven wipes for wiping,
Ten floors for sweeping,
Nine bedtime stories,
Eight cups with milk in,
Seven dirty nappies,
Six hours playing,
Five broken things.
Four teddy bears,
Three chewed up pens,
Two dirty gloves,
And a night of unbroken sleep.

On the twelfth day of Christmas,
my children gave to me
Twelve loads of washing,
Eleven wipes for wiping,
Ten floors for sweeping,
Nine bedtime stories,
Eight cups with milk in,
Seven dirty nappies,
Six hours playing,
Five broken things.
Four teddy bears,
Three chewed up pens,
Two dirty gloves,
And a night of unbroken sleep.

Merry Christmas!

The Twelve Days of (a parent's) Christmas

Add some Christmas sparkle

A few weeks ago, I asked members of British Mummy Bloggers and Irish Mum Bloggers to share their family Christmas traditions. As usual, you came up trumps and shared such lovely traditions that I thought I should share them with you. I do some of these and I still put chocolate money and a satsuma in the bottom of the boys stockings as my parents did for me, but the mince pie and a glass of sherry for Santa is now a mince pie and a glass of whiskey (when in Ireland….!).

Christmas Traditions

• Sprinkle reindeer food (that’s oats and glitter to you and me) on the driveway or garden.
• Leave a special key out for Santa so he can get into the house (if you don’t have a chimney!).
• Christmas Elves leave new PJs for the children on the doorstep on Christmas Eve.
• Leave the tree undecorated for a while until the "Christmas Fairy" decides to decorate it. Each morning the children come downstairs with a sense of anticipation.
• Watch a classic Christmas movie whilst stringing popcorn for the tree.
• Make some edible Christmas decorations every year which the children can decorate, such as gingerbread stars.
• Put spikes of cloves into oranges and leave them all over the house.
• Leave a note for Santa on Christmas Eve which asks him a couple of questions. Make a potato printer in the shape of a reindeer hoof-print and using mud, stamp a print onto a reply note for the children to find on Christmas morning.
• Leave some of Santa’s beard (cotton wool) on the edge of the glass of drink you have left out for him.
• A French tradition is to leave slippers under the tree (rather than stockings) which are filled by Santa with chocolates and oranges.
• Keep an eye on Santa's journey on the Norad Santa Tracker.
• Walk past bedroom windows with sleigh bells.
• Let the children open one present each from under the tree on Christmas Eve.
• For a magical Christmas Eve movie, try ‘The Polar Express’ and for a magical Christmas Eve story, try ‘Twas The Night Before Christmas’.
• If you put stockings on the end of the beds, let the children open those presents upstairs, perhaps all piled into your bed. Then go downstairs to open their Santa presents.
• To try to prevent Christmas morning "present fever" by letting each child take it in turns to open a present. The present opening takes longer, but everyone can watch the present being opened, and also gives you chance to keep a list of what everyone has been given, for thank you letters.
• Have a present ‘intermission’. Refill your glass of bubbly (!) while the children have some space between presents to play with the toys already opened.
• Leave some presents until after lunch, or for when other family members arrive.

Christmas with children is SO exciting! They will hopefully remember these magical moments - they certainly won’t remember how crunchy your roast potatoes were! So, I for one am going to step back from the organising and cooking this year and try to bring the magic of Christmas alive for the boys. One day they will discover the truth about Santa (I am actually in denial about this fact!). I, for one, want to make the most of these years of believing.

Merry Christmas!

Thank you to the following British Mummy Bloggers and Irish Mum Bloggers for sharing all their fab traditions with me: 20something mum, The Mad House, Violet Posy, Potty Mummy, Expat Mum, Cafe Bebe, Mum's Survival Guide, Perfectly Happy Mum, A Modern Mother, Fab Mums, The Rubbish Diet, Crystal Jigsaw, Muummmeeee, Jayne Howarth, Coding Mama, If I Could Escape, Fashionable Mama, Bernice Burnside.

Add some Christmas sparkle

The death of parenting-DIY?

When I was a little girl, everything seemed to be homemade – cakes, fancy dress costumes, dresses for my doll, dresses for me; all made by my mum, an aunt or a nana. All very clever ladies who could turn their hands to anything. Now it seems that nobody makes anything.

I am the only mother I know, among my mummy friends, who have ever made their child’s birthday cake. I seem to be such an exception to the norm that it is almost embarrassing to admit this!

I’m not looking for a Home Economics badge or other domestic accolade. Making birthday cakes was something I assumed I would do when I had my own children, because my mum always made my birthday cakes. I also feel that I owe it to my mum to keep this tradition going.

My friends partly admire my domestic abilities but I know they also think I am completely insane. Surely, they point out, it would be so much easier to pop out to M&S and pick up a tasty and brilliantly decorated Ben 10, Thomas, or whatever other themed cake was required at the time.

They are right of course. It would be easier. But where’s the sense of pride in picking a cake off the in-store bakery shelf, taking it out of the box and plonking a few candles on it? Surely baking your child’s birthday cake is a parent’s rite of passage – something to look forward to as much as putting their first Santa presents under the tree or watching their first nativity play.

I’m not sure if I should be hailed as a hero or a tragedy for finding a little time in my busy life to whisk together some eggs, butter, flour and sugar, and I’m sure the children couldn’t care less who made the cake, as long as it has plenty of candles and chocolate buttons on it. But I care, and I like the idea that they assume I made it.

And it’s not just cakes. Hallowe’en costumes also bother me. Buzz Lightyears, Power Rangers, Snow Whites - simply cut off the price tag, pop over child’s head and voila, instant fancy dress. Gone are the days of white sheets with holes cut out for eyes which is a shame. OK, they look pretty crap but I’d much have some sheet ghosts knocking on my door than a bunch of Disney Pixar characters. What’s spooky about a princess and a cowboy?

It really seems that my generation of parents have lost all interest in the art of parenting-DIY. Is this ‘pop out and buy one’ attitude just a symptom of the ridiculously busy lives most parents lead in the 21st century, or are we just getting lazy? Are we missing out on something by always taking the convenient, shop-bought option?

Christmas 2009 will be my thirty-eighth Christmas. I have just made my first Christmas cake (thought it was about time!). I used my mum’s own recipe, the boys helped and we all made a wish as we stirred with our wooden spoons - something I vividly remember doing with my mum.

Condemn me if you wish for sounding like I have come straight off the set off ‘The Good Life’, but I don’t think that what I am doing should be viewed as ‘showing off’, or ‘saintly’. It is simply something I want to do because I am a parent, and that I enjoy doing because I am a parent.

As a final note on this matter, I painted the front door yesterday morning. Chatting to a mum I know later that day, I happened to mention this. She looked at me like I was mentally unstable.

“What colour did you paint it?” she enquired.
“Green”.
“Surely it would have been easier to just buy a new green door?” she said.

Ladies and gentlemen, I rest my case!

Image courtesy of Miss Anne Taintor

The death of parenting-DIY?

A mum's letter to Santa

Dear Santa,

I have been quite a good mummy this year, so for Christmas I would like….

• A new pair of hands – mine are looking very much like they belong to a 90-year old gardener.
• Some anti-shouting pills or something to prevent me from slamming things in a mum-rage.
• A new car would be lovely. Preferably one which doesn’t let in the rain and soak the boy’s car seats, or one which actually gets warm. Either would be nice. Actually, one like daddy’s car would be very nice.
• Would it be possible to have some self-dying hair, self-manicuring nails and self-applying make-up as I never seem to have the time to do any of this myself.
• Actually, talking of time, a couple of extra hours a day would be great. In fact, make that four extra hours, but you must insist that I am only allowed to do things for myself in those extra hours.
• A self-cleaning floor would be great.
• A sense of style would be lovely.
• I may be pushing my luck here, but if you could see your way to bringing me my very own Nigella Lawson or Annabel Karmel to deal with all the children’s meals that would be nice. Failing that, if you could fill my freezer with a year’s supple of ready-to-serve, nutritious, organic meals that would be fine.
• Oh, and some of those nice chocolates from the coffee shop in the village if you can squeeze them in.

Thanks very much. I left out a mince pie which I made with the children. See, I really am a good mum!

A mum's letter to Santa