He's coming to town

Dear Father Christmas,

I have checked NORAD and I know you are on your way. I just wanted to let you know that I have been a VERY VERY good girl this year. Now I know this probably puts me on the Nice List, but I can't help feeling that in a grass-is-always-greener kind of way, that those on the Naughty List are probably having a lot more fun.

I hope Rudolph does his stuff for you tonight and hopefully I'll find someone with his nose so bright to help me find my way next year.

Lots of Christmas kisses

Me x

Ps. Given the size of my daughter's Christmas presents this year I do hope you are putting a loft conversion in my stocking this year. Cheers.

Sent from my iPhone

All I Want for Christmas is my Sanity

I'm feeling slightly guilty.

This was meant to be a Mental Health Carnival in the style of the lovely Carol over at Dance Without Sleeping, but I can't help feel I have let her down by not promoting hard enough and by not getting many contributions.

In fact hers is the only one, not including my introductory post.  Carol's is a great post, read it here, her Christmas Crazy is something I am indeed overly familiar with.

Like Carol I too put pressure on myself and underlying depression feeds the guilt I expressed in the opening of this post; it's all magnified by the pressure I think my of us put ourselves under to be the perfect.... (you fill in the blank). And, yes and, it enables the wonderful delights of depression to Dance like Sugar Plums in our heads.

I'm pretty sure Carol wouldn't hold this against me, but I had such high hopes...

Anyway, while I'm typing this I'm not wrapping the presents I should be wrapping and my inner Elfzilla is yelling at me to write cards.

Personally I want to tell my inner ugly sister Griselda to go f'ck herself but would that really be in the spirit of Christmas?

I'm a celebrity

This evening during the FINAL bedtime cuddle, little girl was telling me about her nursery play. A play in which she is an Elf (remember this, it is important in a few sentences time).

We discussed that Mummy was going one day and Daddy another. We sang 'Twinkle Twinkle Christmas Star'.

The Little girl told me what she has to say in the play. Yes, a speaking part no less.

Proud mummy bubbled up and infused 'my little star! You are a STAR.'

My enthusiasm was met with a

'No, mummy. I'm an ELF.'