'Tis the season to be Jolly......

I am here and I am going to write a blog entry, I have been hopeless and the only reason or excuse I can give is that I am so tired, so bone weary I can barely just scrape through these crazy past days.
I was so poorly, never so poorly before is how poorly I was and what a bugger of a time to get sick. Christmas is my favourite time, actually before Christmas si my favourite time, the actual day is lovely and I spend the whole day, in between cooking and serving, watching every expression and holding to myself every glorious comment that passes my children's lips. This year was more splendid than ever because Daniel was here, it is 8 years since he has had a Christmas free, working in the restaurant and hotel trade meant that he was always working on the big days, I am sure that in the future he will, as a policeman work during the festive period but this year, as a rookie, he was free for almost a week and he was HERE, in all his loud, massive glory. He is huge, in fact I caught myself glancing at him while he was here and often marvelling at the fact that I made him, Jordan is very tall ( 6' 5") but as thin as a rake, Dan is not as tall ( 6' 3") and he is solid. He slept in with the little boys, so 4 boys in one room that is probably 12' x10'. bunks beds, a spare mattress and a little put you up for Eli, made of big cushions and blankets.
Grandpa has Seth's room and he has been here now for 12 days, you may think I am counting and being pernickety, well I am.
Oh how I love my blog because it is where I can say whatever I please and whatever I must not allow to pass my lips, let me tell you, that part, that keeping my mouth shut has been next to impossible, so far so good and I am hopeful that, actually, with tomorrow being the last full day, I might make it to the end of the visit without disgracing myself entirely. Hopeful but not positive.
It is most probably me, you know " it's not YOU, it's ME" Living with H, I have found that over the years I have become rather a lover of peace and quiet. Put me in a room with a group of my women friends and I will revert beck to character in a blink, I will talk and laugh, joke and rattle of nonsense with the best of them, here at home though, we enjoy a quiet and peaceful existance, why use a sentence if a single word will do, we have our space and our routines and we rather like them.
I have decided that possibly, 5 days should be the limit to have visitors or be a visitor, once those 5 days have passed, trust me, even the most beloved is annoying. Really annoying. Those touching little quirks that were pleasing for 5 days will annoy the crap out of you on day 6 and make you feel positively murderous by day 10, after that, give in. shut your mouth, sit on your clenched fists and pray for patience while counting the minutes.
I cannot remember grandoa ever being so bloody chatty before, he has an opinion on everything, he laughs at things that aren't funny and he is positively the most politically incorrect person I have ever come across, now far be it for me to be a PC policewoman but when someone says to my dark skinned children "those asians are called yellow bellies because of their yellow skin", well, I feel obliged to step in and say something.
When every single TV show has a running commentary and raucous laughter when it isn't even funny, when we hear 'goddamit''bullSHIT' 'idiot' crap'and 'yeahrightasshole' so many times a day that the shock joy ( gasp can you believe he SAID that?) runs out after 2 days and we are just left feeling more than a little exhausted. I hope I never stop feeling disgusted by the use of the Saviour's name as a swear word, with all the curse words out there its surely an easy thing to leave Christ alone.
I am almost embarrassed to admit that H and I both have a remote for the TV, it's a bratty thing I know but we do and we have one each next to our chairs and we always know where they are.
Every single time I love, mine gets taken, I come back into the room and the channel has been changed and, for example, on Christmas eve, before the bosy went to bed we watche dan hour of CNBC on the finances of the USA, which is not Christmassy or happy, not pleasant or even remotely interesting and when scattered with countless ' Godammits' and "Shit!" well, you can imagine. I didn't feel at all festive or ready for magic to happen.
I am beyond tired of being cramped and squished, of having grandpa sitting right next to me on my sofa, of being unable to just slorm and slob, I am done being hospitable and nice.
One more day. I find myself singing that old folk song, " One day at a time sweet Jesus"



Do you think it is an age thing? I think it is, as I get older, more and more I find myself being a grumpy old woman, one that still knows how to belly laugh at the rigt things and can enjoy all the glorious things I have in my life, I am less able to suffer nonsense. Even that word speaks volumes, doesn't it? NONSENSE! Almost feel obliged to slip in 'whippersnapper' in the next sentence. Folk songs about Jesus and words like Nonsense. Lovely. That's me,in a nutshell.
I haven't seen Joshua all the holiday long, his nana is here from Turkey and so I stay away so she can have her fill of deliciousness, also with poorly me, poorly kids and grandpa I can't get away. I shall do something about that very soon, in fact I am babysitting on new year's eve, so I shall kiss and stare at and love him to pieces then.
This is what has made me heart sing.....

Let me tell you, as a mother, there is nothing as sweet as watching your children and seeing just how much they love each other. The way these boys look at their big brothers ( And sometimes sister though they still tend to blink quickly and back away at times!) is so heart warming, everything they say and do is delightful to these little people, the fact that they are so rough and naughty and manage to bring forth such squeals of irreverent joy is a never ending pleasure to me.
While I was cooking, when the maddness of opening the presents was over, when they boys took time to go back and actually see what they had opened and received, Dan and Sophie were right there to help them open, play with, understand and enjoy their presents. I snuck out of the kitchen often to watch through the gap in Sophie's door as they all sat and played, read and laughed. I missed Jordan, who was at work, cooking dinners for people who wanted to be pampered and served on Christmas day.
I am so proud of Jordan, all my kids of course but Jordan is so quiet about what he does, he works so hard and such long hours, he is an incredible chef and is still going to college to train in managerial capacity, he comes home and he is the houseproud one, he has a lovely home and is a kind and gentle man to Mel and Joshua. He rarely complains and I adore him. I missed having him here with the others, though even if he hadn't been working, he would have been at home, with his family.
He is the funniest man I have ever met too....Danand Jordan together are something else, I love it. I love that when Dan is here, as soon as his phone goes and tells him that Jordan has finished work and is home, he leaves here to be with Jordan, they are best friends. A mother couldn't ask for more, they look after Sophie and include her. they guide her and love her and drive her insane with their teasing, when she has been at rock bottom, when I, as a mother, had to turn away and allow her to make her terrible choices, they were there, they watched out for her, they looked after her and they loved her. I am so grateful for these children.
Oh would you look what I just did? I talked myself out of my homicidal tantrum and I turned myself into a gushing old sap. GO me! Seems my blog did it for me again!
I hope you had a Merry Christmas full of happy children, obnoxious old farts and much good food.
It's almost next year and I for one, have decided I am going to make some rather grand resolutions. Those are for a new post, when my home is back to normal and our visitor has gone home. Oh how happy those words make me.