Tag Archives: Christmas

Merry martyr Christmas

 

martyr2Tonight I put on my Christmas martyr pants, stood on my Christmas martyr soap box and let it rip.

“I am doing EVERYTHING around here to get ready for Christmas and no-one else is doing ANYTHING!!”

“Like what?” came the reply from my rather shell shocked family.

So I listed all the stuff I have been doing or will do in the lead up to 25 December:

My martyr list

  • Buy four presents and cards for friends of my children who selfishly decided to be born in December.
  • Buy 50 chocolates Santas and 50 small Christmas cards for my children’s classmates.
  • Buy a Christmas present for the kids’ tennis coach.
  • Buy Christmas gift bags to carry all the Christmas stuff to school.
  • Make over 60 brownies as presents for teachers, school crossing supervisors, after school care carers, workmates, family and friends.
  • Write 40 Christmas cards to family and friends.
  • Source and buy Christmas presents for my children. Track down the one doll my daughter wants that has sold out everywhere, so I’m forced to buy it online. Then the wrong one is delivered. Then I panic that the correct one won’t arrive on time so I ask my lovely workmates to keep an eye out for it in the stores. Then I really panic and decide to buy another one just in case. Then the store sends me the correct one plus the second one I bought; and my workmate buys me one too. So I now have three  dolls.
  • Book my children in to school holiday program for January that needs to be booked and paid for in December.
  • Buy a Kris Kringle gift.
  • Buy new Christmas lights for the Christmas tree because the cats ate the lights last year.
  • Buy the cats a Christmas present.
  • Get up at sparrow’s fart to line up to have photos of the kids taken with Santa.
  • Book in for a spray tan, manicure, pedicure and hair cut before Christmas.
  • Book kids in for a hair cut before Christmas.
  • Make sure the kids have nice outfits to wear for Christmas Day.

Impressive, isn’t it?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Finding myself

I losImaget myself over Christmas.

I left suddenly on about December 24 and didn’t even leave a note about why or where I was going, or when I was coming back.

During that time there were frequent sightings of me at the fridge eating leftovers and lots of chocolates. And a few times I was seen sitting on the couch eating more chocolate and watching television.

But it wasn’t the me that was me before Christmas. There were glimpses, but that me had gone. Instead I have been replaced by the me from December 2012 who was so shocked by a photo taken at a Christmas gathering that I vowed to get into shape, get fit and lose weight in 2013.

And the me from January 2013 to 24 December 2013 was doing well. That me was going to the gym, feeling good about how her body was toning up and was looking forward to summer.

I miss that me.

The good news is that I have received sightings of me at the gym this week and doing exercises DVDs at home. So maybe I just might find myself again, after all.

I wish I’d hurry back, though!

A FODMAP Christmas greeting

I am struggling with my FODMAP diet.

ibsFODMAPS are in lots of food we all eat and it is an acronym for: Fermentable 
Oligosaccharides (eg. Fructans and Galactans) 
Disaccharides (eg. Lactose) Monosaccharides (eg. excess Fructose)
 and 
Polyols (eg. Sorbitol, Mannitol, Maltitol, Xylitol and Isomalt) 

Rolls off the tongue, doesn’t it?

Because my stomach can’t absorb these FODMAPS, I was diagnosed with Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS) – one of the least sexy syndromes you can find!

Trying to avoid all the lovely symptoms of IBS means I can’t eat lots of my favourite foods and some of you who may have been reading my blog for a while are aware of how frustrating I find this.

No garlic. No onion. No wheat. No dried fruits. No juice. No watermelon. No grapes. No mushrooms. No ice cream. No fun!

I see this condition as a punishment for the excesses of my youth when as a daughter of a Greek migrant, I ate bread with every meal, not to mention lots and lots of garlic and onion!

Heck, my first job was in bakery, where I could scoff bread to my heart’s content – and I did!

So, karma has bitten me on the bum (and the upper intestine).

And it’s so much tougher during Christmas!

I am surrounded by shortbread, brownies, and of course lots of Lindt chocolate. The chocolate is OK; it’s the filling that throws me. And all that lovely wheat in those home baked goodies – good Lord!

If I were a good FODMAPite I would steer clear of all the foods that I know will send my stomach into a tailspin.

But I must be a slight masochist, because I cannot resist nibbling and tasting these foods because my taste buds remember how delicious they are!

Why cant there be a drug for people like me with food allergies, so our taste buds forget how much we love these foods? A second’s taste for days of pain would no longer be the internal battle I fight with myself on an almost daily basis.

So to all the other FODMAPites out there – I feel your (bloated) pain!

I hope you enjoy a gluten free, wheat free, FODMAP free Christmas and an IBS-free New Year!

What a tangled web we weave….

One thing they don’t tell you about being a parent is how often you will need to lie to your kids.

My little girl is 7 (almost 8). She still believes in fairies and unicorns. And I keep up that faith by making up reasons why unicorns and fairies are invisible, and every now and then I place a little keepsake under her pillow to keep her believing that she has her own personal fairy that looks after her and gives her gifts.

chocolate-bunniesShe still believes in Santa; but she tricked me into killing off her belief in the Easter bunny.

I accidentally killed the Easter Bunny in a weak moment when I was reading her a bedtime story. She looked at me with a big knowing grin and asked me if I hide the easter eggs at Easter.

I remember looking in to her eyes; my mind whirring. What was the right thing to say?! She looked like she was quite proud of herself for figuring it all out, so I thought it was safe to tell her the truth. And so I did.

I did not make the right decision.

“Whaaaaat?!” she cried. Her face fell and she started sobbing in that hiccupy way that little kids do. She looked totally devastated and I had to back pedal like a maniac and told her that he only stopped coming last year because he thought that six-year-old was too old to visit anymore.

He only visits litlte kids, you see. But you never know when he may stop coming, so Mummies and Daddies always have a stock of eggs on hand incase he decides not to come anymore.

“But I’m still a little girl,” she wailed. Which took me by surprise, because anyone who knows my daughter, or is lucky enough to hear my stories about her, knows that she is 7 going on 17.

I finally calmed her down and when she drifted off to sleep, I quickly raced off to tell her Dad what had just happened, so he could back up my lie that the Easter Bunny is real, but he stopped coming last year.

Oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practise to deceive!

secret santaThis time of year becomes particularly tricky to keep up the Santa pretence. For example, today I took her and her little brother to the local shopping centre to have their photo taken with Santa.

On the way there, she asked if he was the real santa. I had to quickly think of what I said to her last year when she asked the same thing. Did I say yes or no? Did I say he was Santa’s twin brother? I couldn’t remember, so had to wing it.

I told her he was one of Santa’s helpers. She looked confused and asked why he was dressed as Santa if he was just one of the helpers! Damn that sharp, curious mind of hers!

So I had to make up another lie to add to the hundreds of lies I’ve told her through her short life: that he is dressed up like Santa so people will THINK he’s the real Santa and tell him what they want for Christmas, so he can then relay the message back to the REAL Santa.

Clear as mud?

So for now, Santa is safe.

P.S As I was typing this post, my daughter raced into the study and I had to quickly minimise the screen so she wouldn’t read any of what I’ve written. Phew! Close call!

Merry Christmas everyone and thank you for reading my blog. Your likes and comments have been the highlight of my year!