November Blues

ancient house

I have had just about enough of November this year!

Just as Sophia recovered from ten days illness with a throat infection (which in turn came only a few days after another mysterious virus), Anna came down with a 24 hour vomiting bug. I don’t want to upset anyone who may be reading this on their lunch break, but I will just say that high sleeper beds and projectile vomit are a very, very, very bad combination. Now regretting our decision to get Anna a high sleeper more than ever, and mentally trying to rearrange her tiny room to fit everything in with a ‘normal’ bed.

Anna then kindly passed the bug on to me and my husband, and we had a hairy few hours of tag-teaming urgent trips to the bathroom and coping with a lively and demanding toddler! Vomiting bugs are my absolute nemesis anyway, the one common illness which really sends a chill down my spine. And when I am struck down, it’s always just as bad as I remember! I spent a day obsessively bleaching everything in the house, and did an epic 7 loads of laundry to try and purify the house, and am now just feeling a bit exhausted and washed out and shaky.

I have serious cabin fever too. I don’t think I’ve left Walthamstow for a month, and have barely left the house apart from school runs and medical appointments. I’m also hugely unprepared, practically or psychologically, for the challenge of December.

I absolutely love Christmas. Really, really love it. But really enjoying it doesn’t mean that negotiating the whole festive period with two young children isn’t somewhat taxing! There’s all the dates to remember – carol concerts and rehearsals and Christmas shows and parties and get togethers. Just remembering where everyone needs to be at any given moment (usually at least two different and incompatible places) can be tricky. Then there’s cards to make/buy and write and post/hand out, and all the ubiquitous Christmas crafts which are not my natural forte. Menu planning and food shopping. And that’s before we even get onto present buying.

I really enjoy Christmas shopping. When that involves leisurely meandering around a beautiful Christmas market, or even a peaceful early November Monday morning pottering up and down the high street, with plenty of stops for refuelling with hot chocolate. What I have done so far this year is make frenzied searches online, with a feverish child draped over one shoulder and a crick in my neck. The resulting parcels then arrive in the 5 minute period when I leave the house to collect Anna from school and become marooned in Sorting Office Hell, as seemingly irretrievable as if they were on Mars. I now need to be in physical shops for the remainder of my gifts, as they’re in that category of not knowing quite what I want until I see it. I’m not quite sure when I’m going to be able to do that, but i certainly won’t be calm or tranquil by the time I do.

Anyway, I feel better for a good old moan on the blog. I will pull myself together, stop with the self pity, try and have a fairly restful couple of days to get over the post-bug exhaustion and then I will be on it with Christmas! Bring on all the fun and festivity and excitement.

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