'A f***ing iron?'

No, these weren’t my words today – but my brothers when he opened his present from our parents. And yes, I’m still laughing! If I hadn’t already opened my new sewing machine, I’m sure he would have thought they’d just got the tags mixed up!

But it’s no ordinary iron (according to our mother, who didn’t hear him cursing) it can steam suits while they stand! Which wasn’t the best thing to tell him as he awfully like our father, and chances are he won’t read the instructions and try it whilst he’s wearing the suit.

And talking of instructions, I could knock my father’s head together with that of my second born! The pair of them are so bloody stereotypically male! They both received gifts that required five minutes of looking at the manuals. Did either of them bother? Why no! They are alpha males and what can’t be figured out, must be at fault! Honestly, both mumbling about things going wrong, and there was nothing bloody amiss that five minutes reading couldn’t solve. Even after I read the manuals FOR THEM P didn’t hang around longer than to hear the instructions on what he wanted his electronic pet to do that second. And my father didn’t even listen, but told me to do it for him! Which of course, I did. With a reminder he should READ the manual. Reckons, he’ll play with his photo printer tomorrow – which in translation means he’ll dump the paperwork and call me when it won’t do as he wants!

But Ho,Ho,Ho back to the beginning…yesterday didn’t end. At least that’s what it feels like! We went to bed at one, but within half an hour I saw the outside lights go on and knew a little darling had hit the wrong light switch.

Turned out to be the biggest, R. Can you believe he talked back to me when I told him he couldn’t open Santa’s presents before 6am? Stood arguing in the hall with me! Bloody pre-teenagers, I swear one year I’ll leave a bag of coal and hide the real sack till he’s grovelling!

But I won’t. Because I can still remember that feeling kids get. The hope of getting something amazing in your stocking or under the tree. I like to think each of them got something that thrilled them, and they’re certainly look happy…

Except my brother! Hahhahahahha – sorry, still giggling! Not at the gift I should add (it sounded handy!) but his reaction.

But back to the hoard. Next up was S. She wet her bed at a quarter to four and screamed the house down with fury when the BH and I couldn’t find a nightie – now, she almost did get her Santa gifts, as he had kindly got her one for Christmas. But no, I didn’t get quite that stressed (probably because I was too bloody tired!) and we had her sorted by four. And luckily we then got a whole three hours sleep. I just wish she wouldn’t keep sneaking into our bed. Apart from the worry with her recent flooding habits, she’s flings herself about and waking up with an elbow in the face isn’t the nicest way to start a day.

Then the conveyer belt of presents arrived. Santa’s this morning. Grandparents and other relatives at lunchtime. And family pressies this evening. I insist upon splitting them up, or the kids run through them all in half an hour, without really looking at any. Mean mommy!

Overall the day was surprisingly nice. No one got angry, no one got upset, my brother was neither ill nor hungover (I think this was a first!), though my father telling J she was only a girl and so couldn’t play with the boys stuff, did make me raise my eyebrows and remind me I must have a chat with her about not taking his attitude to heart!

Oh and my mother made me laugh. And think. At the dinner table my eldest commented that tomorrow is our family’s favourite day, as everyone has their presents to play with and we close the door on the world. Literally (and this wasn’t an easy thing to implement and took years to persuade people not to pop around or invite us to parties). No one bothers getting dressed if they don’t want to, and there are no prepared meals – total slobbery. What made me laugh was my mother’s face as she uttered ‘Disgusting!’ when she realised what we do. She was completely serious and gave me a filthy look. And if I’m honest – I enjoyed her reaction! Christmas as a child was ghastly – nothing wrong precisely, just a huge party (not a knees up, but a stiff affair) that required a military timetable starting at six in the morning and three changes of clothes. The thought of taking it easy and sitting around doing things at your own pace, was not appealing to them – but very much envied by my brother and I. And whilst the party no longer happens (though there were people there for drinks when we arrived today), I still dream of doing a Christmas my way. Instead we do boxing day, our way! But it made me wonder how much of my behaviour is still like that of a teenager out to annoy the parents. Then again, I do REALLY enjoy it, so I shall choose to consider the reaction, rather than the behaviour, that’s childish!

--x--

I just got back from bedtime which has unfortunately resulted in an argument with P. He wanted the girls out of his room and I finally intervened and sent the girls to their own room. But he wanted their DVD to watch (they don’t have a player in their room), but as he wouldn’t let them watch it with them, I said no. And left. Then he passes me in the corridor with his best present from Santa in his hands and J asks where he’s going. I overheard him saying he was going to put it in the bin because he didn’t want it any more.

Now a rational, none-tired parent would realise the little bugger was after attention – and a part of me knew that. But quite frankly, I’m tired of the shitty acts of petty nastiness he comes up with. I went potty.

I’ve spent about five minutes yelling (I had to, when I first shouted his name, J was so shocked she started wailing, and I had to raise my voice to be heard over her!) then I sent him to his room where I spent a quarter of an hour sitting on his floor explaining why his antics disappoint me so much.

At the moment he’s saying he hates me. That he doesn’t want me to love him anymore. And there was a time when his words would have had me in tears. Instead I told him I knew his game. It’s all about attention, and he should have been an only child with the amount he wants. I’m not paying him any heed, he’s straight to bed and he can stay in his room till he apologises for his ungratefulness (except for toilet visits and breakfast, if it goes on that long – and if I know P, it will!)

Bugger! I was going to end with a warm Christmassy glow. Now I’m upset, angry, guilty, all the typical mother things when you adore your baby, but detest their behaviour.

If he’s like this now – what will the next decade bring? Good grief, that’s a thought. Maybe I’ll read this and laugh at how little I had to worry about! Heck I think I’d better stop now before I really scare myself.

Yes, I’ll focus on the iron, hahahahhahahahhaha!