I cannot believe it's only 5 weeks until Christmas. This year, I had been full of good intentions of being organised, starting the Christmas shopping in September, list making, crafting. I fully intended to be totally organised and able to sit back in December with nothing to do but mull the wine and nibble on a mince pie.
Then life happened, and like the saying goes 'make God laugh, tell him your plans.'
Maybe I'm thinking about all this because we went to the Crematorium yesterday to pay our respects to my nannie, who passed away in 2007, and was, frankly, the most organised woman I've ever known.
So, here we are, almost at the end of November, and I haven't got one present, card, or roll of wrapping paper. I have saved up the savers stamps at the local grocery store, and I've been collecting my coupons each week to give me £40 off my Christmas grocery shop (7 down, 2 to go). I've also made the Christmas cake, and have been feeding it weekly with Port. I'm not totally disorganised, I'm just not as organised as I would like to be. That, however, is nothing new, it's pretty much the story of my life. I like being organised, I fully intend to be organised. I know that without a shadow of a doubt that when I am organised, I'm happier, calmer, and generally not doing things like rifling through the toy box because we have an appointment and need to leave the house now, but one of the kids have hidden one of their shoes.
Being organised just makes things that little bit easier, and that little bit calmer. It leaves more time for fun. I'm also realising that a bit of organisation can also allow you to be a bit more flexible. If it's a nice day, who cares if you'd planned to cook a roast, or make a complicated dessert? If you have stand-by's in the freezer, it's much easier to think 'Ok, let's just have that for dinner so we can go to the park!'
Organization is not something I think we should be slaves to, but a tool that can be used to live a fuller, more free, more fun life.
Well, that's enough of that thinking malarkey for one blog post.
The kids are great fun, and they are nice kids. Molly loves anything pretty. My mum got them onesies to wear over their PJs now it's turned colder. Molly's is pink with sparkly stars on it, and every evening she brings it to me saying 'This! On!' She loves her flower hair clasps, and giggles happily as you put them in her hair. She's even delighted when I wear a pretty scarf, and if I have on something really plain, she tries to put colourful stickers on me. A little girls sheer joy at prettiness is a wonderful thing to witness.
Gareth is the most loving, demonstrative, exasperating, funny little human dynamo you could ever hope to meet. He charges around going 'Woah! Woah!' sings and looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to sing the next part back to him. When he's climbing on me, as 2 year olds do, and a note of impatience is creeping in to my voice, he strokes my hair and says 'Poor, poor mama.'
I honestly sometimes wonder how these 2 great kids can possibly be mine.
So, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to make some lists, because a little organisation leaves more time and energy for a whole lot of fun.