Posts tagged presents

A Broody Little Christmas

I’ve spent the day in a Santy hat…of course it’s only 11am or so, I really shouldn’t be complaining.  We put up the tree last night and now suddenly it’s Christmas.  The word tree can be a bit misleading.  It’s a crappy 3ft piece of plastic pretending to be a tree.  It looks pretty though…if the lights are off.  Not because you can’t see it but because the fibre optics, lights and decorations look really well in the dark.  They do.  *nods sagely*

December is really having a wierd effect on us.  We argued over what tree to get yesterday.  What size, what colour, what price and we weren’t even in the same building.  He kept asking me what I wanted, I kept telling him what I wanted and he kept disagreeing with what I wanted.  “Get whatever the fuck you want then!” I shouted at him before hanging up the phone.  He got the one I wanted.  *looks sheepish*

Is it just me or does December make everything irritating?  I think he’s worried I’m pregnant I’m so hormonal at the moment.  I just want to get a move on with everything and he’s all lacksy daisy about it.  I don’t want to do everything on Christmas Eve this year!!  Speaking of being pregnant, I want to be.  He doesn’t want me to be.  Hmm…that’s never happened before so I’m not quite sure what to do about that. 

This time last year I was around 6/7 months pregnant and I was huge.   Nobody thought I’d make it past Christmas, I was seriously ginormous.  Before I gave birth, my skin was starting to wear very, very thin it was so stretched.  Christmas four years ago, I was going through unbelievably bad morning sickness and I spent Christmas day alone.  I couldn’t keep down water at that stage, it was horrible.  So I’m not really sure why I want to be pregnant again when I think about things like that.  Although I’m very sure when I look at my children play together.  Another one would fit in nicely.  I can see Mr. Claire buying me a puppy instead.  He doesn’t like how I look at babies on the telly.  Not my fault I’m permanently broody.  I actually think there is something wrong with me.  I’ve been broody since I was 12…:)

 With that thought….have a great day 😉  I know, I really have to stop talking about Christmas…and babies…and Christmas.  I keep planning on talking about other things but it always comes back to “see above”.  Okay, I want a baby for Christmas.  A puppy would be nice but a poor second.  What is it you want during the holidays this year??

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I’m a Planner, Baby…

Just have to say that there is one thing about this blog that always manages to amuse me.  Every single day I log on, there are some really wierd ass searches.  Like…she forced me into a nappy.  I feel sorry for people who search for swinging couples only to find my, mostly moany, blog.  One of my favourite things about blogging is seeing what people search for.  It’s great.  I wonder if, when I search for things and find a completely irrelevant blog as the answer, does the blogger think, wtf? why were they looking for that here?  I’m a boring searcher by all accounts.  I look for things like how to fix my f&%king blog when I’ve changed the template by myself.  That sort of thing. 

 I just want to pat myself on the back a little bit.  I finally made a bit of a plan for Christmas and it turns out that for once, I’m not going to be searching down the back of the sofa for a euro on Christmas eve.  Nice one…   I’ve even been saving up for the last few weeks, oh yeah, uh huh.  But then I realised that there’s one significant difference this year.  I’ll have 500euro in the month of December that I didn’t have before.  I do not like my Government but some of the things they do come in handy at times.  Such as the Childcare Allowance.  Regardless of your family situation, anyone with a child under the age of five receives 250 euro four times a year.  I have two which gives me 500euro four times a year.  It’s supposed to give people an incentive and a bit of help paying for childcare so that more families can have two incomes or can get themselves off various benefits.  A grand a year?  Deadly idea. 

But then you remember that childcare can easily cost more than a grand a month per child so it’s not that helpful after all.  But it is a bit of a lifesaver in December as I’m discovering this year.  Funnily enough, paying childcare for two youngsters even with the Childcare Allowance tends to defeat the purpose of working for a lot of people so I won’t be leaving the home until my babies are in school.  Another lifesaver in December is the monthly Children’s Allowance that anyone, regardless of their circumstances, caring for a child under 16 (or up to something like 21 still attending school or college) gets 160euro a month.  That’s 320euro a month for me, sounds great but it’s going towards my ESB bill.  My electricity bill is a killer.  It’s over 200euro even in summer, including the weeks I housesitted for my mother.  I live in a very cold, expensive shithole 🙂

Before anyone bitches about me for spending the Children’s Allowance on myself, just about everything that goes through my hands gets spent on the kids – the lump sum at the beginning of every month is just easier to hand over to pay for a bill than me saving up, trust me, I can’t be trusted to save…

Back to congratulating myself on my Christmas plan…

We’ve pestered most of our family members into telling us what they want. 

Brother Number One (who still hasn’t accepted his 21st birthday present from two months ago…):   “Nothing.  I’d be much happier if you didn’t get me anything.”

My Mother (on behalf of my little 10 year old brother):   “A game is too expensive.  Just get him 10euro credit for the new phone I’ll be getting him for Christmas.”

My Mother (on behalf of herself):   “10euro for my paypal account.”

 Me (after I tore my hair out in exasperation):   “Ah, come off it!  For f&%k’s sake, just tell me what yis want.  For the Love of God, TELL ME!”

Them (with evil grins on their faces):  Repeat above statements.

I know they’re trying to be nice.  I know they keep telling me I have my own kids to look after but that is not the point!  His family aren’t shy about giving a list, I’d just like a little bit of help with my side, just a little.  What is my mother like asking for 10euro into her paypal account for Christmas? 

So, I made out my own list of what to get them.  The people I haven’t got a clue of will be getting vouchers, yes vouchers.  Particularly as one younger member of his family asked for money to gamble with on Stephen’s Day.  Not bloody likely – that’s Mr. Claire saying that, not me.   Who is a hypocrite by the way because he won money on a racehorse at the weekend…

But I picked a certain amount of gifts for my babies too, didn’t go too mad.  Not really.  I have a rough idea of how much I’ll need and I think that I’m going to make it through Christmas this year (without panicking or freaking out too much).   If you ever spent Christmas near me, you would know how much of an accomplishment this is.  🙂  Can’t wait to send Mr. Claire out go shopping!

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Santy Is Chasing Me, Leggit!

People keep telling me how many days and weeks it is until Christmas.  I keep ignoring them.  People are mean.  Big….meanies.  I don’t want to know it’s nearly Christmas.  I don’t want to know that I’m not prepared.  I don’t want to know that I won’t be prepared even if I start shopping now.  This very second.  It won’t make an iota of a difference.  I’m already screwed. 

 Every ad break panics me a little bit more.  In the evenings, every second ad is for a child’s toy, an expensive one, like a lifesize doll house that could realistically not fit comfortably in most homes.  My home is not most homes, a normal sized doll house wouldn’t fit in this hole.  During the day, every single ad is for a child’s toy.  I dread it when my son wants to watch Spongebob because the ads on Nickelodeon hypnotise him into a wide eyed trance only to be broken by the sound of his drool hitting the floor.

 I would spoil my son if I could.  By a lot of people’s standards he is spoiled but I mean really spoil him.  If I had the room, I would buy him a room full of toys for Christmas but the more I buy, the more his favourite toys need to move on elsewhere.  For his first Christmas, we bought everything, even though he was only 5 months old because it was his First Christmas.  For his second Christmas, we bought everything because it was the First Christmas He Could Walk.  For his third Christmas, we bought him everything because it was The Last Christmas He Would Be An Only Child.  We always find an excuse.  This year he will be three, his new sister will be 10 months at Christmas.  So, it will be her First Christmas, her First Christmas She Could Walk and his First Christmas As A Big Brother and First Christmas He Was Potty-Trained.

This puts pressure on me.  A lot of it.  Because I am the one that has to watch him every day.  And her for that matter.  I have to watch his big blue eyes light up at the sight of every single ad break, have to hear him get completely hyper because he is looking through a toy catalogue.  It is I who has to figure out what toys he likes the best when he seems to be completely, head over heels with every single one.  It’s tiring.  I always need to pick presents that aren’t too big. 

I have no idea what I’m getting my daughter.  It won’t matter because she will be only interested in the toys her brother has anyway.  I’m definitely getting her a doll of some sort because I’m pretty sick of playing trains and running around the flat pretending I’m a car.  Yes, you heard me, I play.  My son even gets me to sit on his trike while he stands in the basket/carrier thing at the back and makes me push us around.  I can’t use the pedals…I’m small but I’m not that small.  Mr. Claire has often caught my son and I looking guilty because we both know I’m far too grown up to be cycling a trike around in a tiny circle with my son whooping on the back of it.

Yesterday, we discovered that my son had broken  my digital camera.  I am upset about that because that means I won’t have one by Christmas more than likely.  But it gave me a kickass idea.  I’m going to get my son one of those kids digital cameras that you can bate off the walls and it won’t break.  It better not break anway, that’s all I’m saying.  Not looking at any toymakers in particular.  It’s perfect for his obsession with taking photos of his feet, my hair, his Thomas the Tank Engine trains and the television.  He’ll have great fun trying to take pictures of everyone during Christmas.  Hopefully not me.  Maybe I can set up some sort of drunken blackmail scheme with the help of my 3 year old and his toy camera, help pay for him to go to college.  So his “big” present will actually be something small.  Unless he discovers that sending a letter to Santy could nab him something cooler and louder and bigger and more expensive. 

I’ve already gotten a lecture from “Granny” threatening me to bring him to see Santy this year.  *Guilty Secret No. 1,000,931 – I have never brought my son to see Santy*  I’m sorry about that, I meant to but the time just started speeding up until it was already Christmas and I had no money left!  I hate when people tell me to do something that I already know I should be doing.  It does nothing but make me feel guilty.   So…I guess it serves its purpose, damnit.

Does anyone else use Feedburner by the way?  I know that’s drastically off topic but it’s pissing me the hell off.  It’s not working right at all.  Nobody’s feeds seem to be updating and if they don’t update I forget about them unless I see them around somewhere and that’s so irritating.  I end up missing out on something important, or funny, or, I don’t know, just stuff.  I like reading people’s blogs in the order they write them and I just want to know if it’s just my problem or if everyone is finding it dodgy lately. 

 By the way, Merry poxy Christmas.  🙂

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Major Headache

A really bad headache started this morning and it’s getting worse as the day goes on.  I think I must extra irritable this week 🙂

 On my other blog this morning, a comment was posted saying that I had to remove a post or the matter would be passed onto “the” solicitors.  Of course, I have to get riled up and reply.  And annoy myself for the entire day *sigh*  When will I ever learn 🙂

 Forgetting about that, something is approaching that I can’t forget about no matter how much I try.  Christmas.  Santa Claus.  Decorations.  Presents.  I.  Can’t.  Cope.

Yesterday, in the middle of the paper was an Argos magazine full of toys.  My son had a field day.  All I heard all day long was Mammy, look at that!  Oh, Mam, Thomas the Tank Engine!, Mammy, what’s that?  Mammy, Mam, Ma, look, Look, LOOK!  My head felt like it was going to explode.  Usually I’m a lot more patient when the lil fella looks at pictures of toys, I remember what it was like to get so over excited about it but yesterday I was too concerned with the Christmassy pictures reminding me that I have nothing prepared or planned. 

I am completely hopeless when it comes to Christmas.  Everything happens at the last minute in a rush (if they happen at all) and I am by far, the worst gift buyer in the whole wide world.  Doesn’t matter how well I know someone, I cannot think of one good present to get them.  If they only knew the pain loved ones put me through when they say things like, ah, I don’t want anything, or, anything you get will be lovely, I’m sure.  No, no, it won’t, are you forgetting the present I got you last year??

Ooh, hyperventilating just a little bit now…I can’t handle the pressure of gift buying you see.  I wish I had a personal shopper that was so clever, they could tell me exactly what to get everyone I know.  Actually, it would be easier if people would just tell me what they want and not act all coy about it.  Just give it up!  Help me, help you.  It’s not so much to ask is it?

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