It’s that time of year where people like to do a look back and review of the past 12 months, so I just took a peek back at my blog and I’m grading myself ‘shit’. It’s probably the worst year I’ve had for posting, so apologies. I will attempt to do better in the new year but anyone who’s read before knows how much I loath the whole ‘new year, new me’ bollocks, so don’t get your hopes up that next year will be much better! I will of course try but anyway in the meantime here’s a few little anecdotes from the last few weeks to attempt to finish on a high.

Last week included both the little two starring in their nativities which is always a highlight in the Christmas calendar. Clara gave us all a giggle as a camel and Seb took part in his last ever as a visitor. Seb went back in the evening for a second show that I couldn’t attend (I watched the afternoon performance before anyone jumps down my throat) which meant he had to be left down at the church with a couple of the mum’s offering to give him an extra wave which I’m very thankful for. I’d given him a little pep talk about being brave which he very much took to heart and one of his teacher’s reported to me the next morning that while waiting for me to collect him after the show he was walking round saying ‘I’m so proud of myself!’

The nativities also mean there has been a lot of Jesus chat amongst the children, with my favourite snippet from a conversation coming from Clara- “he was a good boy.” I’m not quite sure what prompted this declaration from my youngest.

She has bought home a little catch phrase from school that she keeps quoting to her siblings every time they do anything remotely naughty… “sharing, caring and kind.” I’m sure she’s had this quoted to her several times at school for it to be so ingrained in her brain but it is saving me from some parenting at least as she’s getting in there before I get a chance.

We kick started the Christmas shenanigans a few weeks ago when we headed down town to watch the town Christmas lights being turned on. The kids were their usual feral selves, although we did get 15 minutes of calm when we went to the toy museum in town that was all kitted out in the dark with pretty lights. A highlight quote from that evening came curtesy of Seb on our way down. He was admiring the shop’s window displays and particularly liked one with the statement of- “they did such a good job.” From the mouth of a 6 year old with no sarcasm this had me howling.

We also attempted some Christmas crafting a couple of weeks ago. I had the kids painting (always a risk I know!), some little wooden trees to give out as presents. Surprisingly this actually went down without too much drama- I should have known it was too good to be true. Cue the cat. Afterwards I’d put the paint palate on the kitchen side, ironically to keep it away from the feral 4 year old, sadly the cat in his great wisdom chose this as the perfect place to sit. Luckily I found him when he was still sat on the paint so roped the girls in to help me keep the situation contained. I wrapped a tea towel round him and ran upstairs to the bathroom with both girls following, gave them strict instructions to keep the bathroom door closed and then I started running a bath. Of course one of them opened the door and Pickle took his chance and vaulted. I had to chase him and recapture him with the tea towel before I could finally get him in the bath. Unfortunately whatever was in the bloody paint meant it wouldn’t come out and the poor sod still has blue feet now.

Clara had us all in stitches a couple of weeks ago when we popped round to see Nanny and Pops after school. She was sat cuddling Nanny, then she started poking her tummy and asked ‘when is your baby coming out?’ Face palm moment. Luckily Nanny has a good sense of humour and after having a good laugh she explained to Clara that she had actually had 5 babies before. Of course the cheeky little sod then askes when those 5 are coming out. Second face palm moment. Clara then proceeded to crawl up Nanny’s top and lay herself across her tummy and pretend to be a baby in her tummy. She stayed tucked up in there for about an hour, occasionally popping her head up through the neck hole to shout various instructions at us all- ‘Pop-pops you need to get Nanny a blanket’ ‘You need to go and get the car to take her to hospital!’ She then finished the whole charade by insisting Nanny ‘give birth’ to her. It was an eventful evening full of lots of laughter.

The kids have got really into another ‘grown up’ programme in the form of Friday Night Dinner again, which is also providing much laughter. They find Jim hilarious but have also taken to calling each other ‘puss-face’ and ‘piss-face’ which I’ve had to limit to them to doing only in the house. The sibling antics have unfortunately rubbed off on them too though. The other night Polly said she was getting herself a glass of milk and rather suspiciously asked Seb if he wanted one too- I should have clocked then that something was up. He obviously said yes so she came back 2 minutes later with a glass for each of them. Seb said thank you and took a sip which he promptly spat out crying. Turns out the little buggar had put salt in it like the boys do in the programme. I will say fair play it is a good prank, it was also completely unexpected so could I keep a straight face whilst trying to tell her off- of course not. I literally had to face the other way and wave for Henry to take over instead whilst I excused myself from the room to laugh freely in the kitchen. Bloody kids.

And that will have to be all as I’ve just had to pull the scissors out of Clara’s hands and give her a telling off too. She was hiding under the table at my feet and I thought she was just cutting up some paper but she just stuck her head out saying “do you want to watch me cutting my hair?” Absolutely not! Sadly she’d already had a go without an audience. She’s tried to cut herself a fringe by the looks of it so I’ll be off now to try and see the extent of the damage. Bloody kids twice over.

But thanks for sticking with me for as I say the worst blogging year I’ve had. Merry Christmas and remember- don’t accept any drinks from any of my beastly children!