Christmas Adverts

So, the time of year is upon us where, I love to get the girls off the school bus in the afternoon and bring them home to a festive, cosy looking house and let them watch some children’s TV with a lovely mug of Nuttella hot chocolate and a mince-pie.  Ahhhhh, lovely. It’s hard work going to school, don’t you know?

The peace does not last  long though, because as soon as the adverts come on I am practically deafened by screeches and squeals of “I want that, I want that!!!”  It doesn’t matter what the advert is for, (it could be for a shiny turd, as far as they’re concerned) they want it.  Even Frankie, who can’t even say ‘Mammy’ properly (he says Ma-eee) is word-perfectly eloquent as he joins in with his sisters in bellowing:

I WANT THAT!!!!!

Grrrrrrr.

Talking of adverts, has anyone had to answer any awkward questions from their children regarding the reality of Santa because of  the flipping Littlewoods advert?

“Who put an x-box under the tree?  My lovely, lovely mother…”

What?  Where the hell has Santa gone??

Years of hard-work gone into bringing the magic of Santa to the children ( the complex explanations of how he gets in when we have no fire-place, the glittery snowy footsteps left on the stairs, the reindeer teeth marks in the carrot stumps that Dasher, Dancer and co couldn’t finish etc, etc) are slowly being undone by that advert.  Surely, there must have been a parent on that production team who realised this wasn’t really in keeping with tradition of Christmas? It’s giving the game away!!!!

And how could I talk about Christmas adverts without mentioning the (supposedly) tear inducing John Lewis advert.  Now, I don’t know if I’m the only snow-cold-ice-queen out there, but this just does not make my eyes leak.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not dead, I did cry at the Lion King, and I do think it’s a lovely advert – the little boy who can’t wait to give his parents his present. As if! Bless him.  But after missing it on the TV, and seeing the flood (via Twitter) of people in tears, I watched it on You Tube and didn’t get emotional. There I said it.

The advert that does get me going though, is the Disneyland one.  Families surprising their children in various ways with trips to the promised land for children is marketing genius.  Now when I say this advert gets me going, I mean, yes it makes me cry.  Not because I am so happy for these little kiddies who are squeaking with delight, oh no it’s tears of guilt! Guilt that I am not surprising my little darlings with such trips.  So much so, that I have promised myself that we will take them next year.  As I said, guilt-provoking advertising genius.

Spare A Thought This Christmas For Those Who…..

WORK IN RETAIL!!!!!

Yes, you read that correctly.

I mean, every Christmas we are ‘sparing thoughts’ for the homeless, the elderly, the lonely etc, etc and don’t get me wrong, they are thoroughly deserving of our ‘thoughts’ and the relevant charities set up in aid of them.  But, this year let us take into consideration the real elves of Christmas – the shop workers!

Does the onset of the Christmas season bring tidings of comfort and joy, and feelings of goodwill to all men to the poor shop workers?  I highly doubt it.  With stores opening extra early, staying open extra late, higher volume of stressed out, impatient customers and not to mention the sales, they hardly have a lot to look forward to.

The reason I am so sympathetic to this cause is my poor OH works in retail.  He is the manager of a small, family run designer clothes shop where there are 4 members of staff.  This means that from mid-November till mid-January he works 7 days a week (only getting Christmas day off and maybe Boxing day, if we’re lucky).  While me and the children were dancing around excitedly last night singing ‘Christmas is coming, Mummy’s  the goose is getting fat….’ the OH looked decidedly depressed.  For him Christmas is nothing but long hours, no time off and missing out on getting the children completely wound up for the big day.

So, yes, he gets to avoid the last-minute rushing around  town searching for the sold-out-EVERYWHERE items on the children’s Christmas lists.  He misses out on having to negotiate the (obviously wonky) heaving trolley around a packed ASDA, then having to visit Sainsbury’s and Tesco on the way home, for the things I’ve undoubtedly forgot.  He doesn’t have to schedule in present-wrapping at Frankie’s nap time, which is never long enough, so most of the wrapping is left for me to do on Christmas Eve.  Which sounds lovely and Christmassy, until I realise that I’ve forgotten what has been wrapped, or who it’s for and end up poking holes in the paper to see what it was. I then get soooo fed up with the wrapping business, that I end up just folding the paper around the presents without sellotape.

He also misses out on the great satisfaction I get from seeing the children light up with the gifts that I/Santa have carefully chosen for them, because he has been hard at work simply paying for them.  He doesn’t get to go collecting pine cones and making tree decorations with them, he doesn’t get to make Christmas cookies with them, he doesn’t dance around like a nutcase to Christmas songs with them, he doesn’t get to see them in all their glory in their Christmas concert – which is perhaps the saddest thing, as I know he would be so proud of them.  He misses out on a lot.

For me, I want Christmas to be a time to create amazing memories and traditions with the children, traditions they can carry on with their own little ones one day.  I try to do my best, and we do have a lot of fun, but it’s not the same when the fun memories I do create are mostly missing their beloved Daddy.

So, while we’re all rushing around this Christmas, like a balls of stress (or is that just me?) please, think twice about being rude or impatient with the shop assistants – unless, of course, they really deserve it.

And remember:

Shop managers/assistants: slaves to the festive season and the real Christmas elves – but without the added bonus of pointy ears.

Humph!!!

I don’t like Mondays. And this Monday I am feeling particularly blue.  (There’s a song in there somewhere, I’m sure.)

Firstly, the alarm didn’t go off this morning (grrrrr) giving us precisely 15 minutes to get the two girls dressed, gym kits packed, packed lunches made, breakfast eaten thrown down the gullet, teeth brushed and to get out the door to catch the school bus.  It was a close one.  We legged it down the road, hair barely brushed *shameful*, coats not done up and……without their flipping book folders, but we made it.  This for me, is not a good start to the day.  Bad mother.

Secondly, instead of my planned trip to town to buy myself some Shu Umera eyelash curlers (a present to myself for passing my driving test) I now have to save my pennies for yet more driving lessons!  Yes, I failed my test. Booooo.

I actually had no expectations of passing it first time, until I actually set out on my test.  Thirty minutes in, I thought to myself that hmmmm, I’m actually doing ok.  I was cruising along the dual carriageway, successfully stopping myself letting out my usual ‘aaaarrgghhhhs’ which I normally screech out when I get over 40mph and I didn’t even close my eyes and hope for the best when passing other cars on a particularly narrow road.  I performed my reverse around the corner faultlessly – if I do say so myself.  I was calm and collected.  However, on my way back (yes ON THE WAY BACK!!!!) to the test centre, we came to the ma-hoo-sive roundabout which has been the bane of my learning-to-drvie life.  It has two lanes (eek) it has loads of exits (eek) and it has a crucial switching-lane-switching-signal point which you have to get just right.  I didn’t.  I got in the wrong lane and therefore, I was doomed from the off.  I had to cut across the other lane of traffic in order to get off on the right exit and this was a ‘dangerous error’.  I had 10 minutes left!!!  And I made this stupid mistake.  I was so gutted with myself that I cried when the examiner said I’d failed because of that one error.  Absolutely gutted.  So I have another test booked and I need to pass.  I cannot afford more lessons and more tests. And my poor shins can’t take another bout of me kicking myself.

Thirdly, last week I received an e-mail out of the blue offering me the most amazing opportunity, regarding some kind of work and career inspiration.  I was over the moon.  I got back to them immediately and have resisted the temptation to check my inbox every 5 minutes to see if they’ve replied.  Since last Thursday, I haven’t even logged on to the internet (I don’t think).  I was like a kid (actually, I’m often more excited than the kids at Christmas) so I was like…… myself at Christmas this morning, desperate to check my emails.  42 messages in the inbox. Oooooooooh. I quickly scanned through and NONE of them were from the person I wanted one from.  I knew I wouldn’t be that lucky.

Grrrrrrrrrrrr.

So, lessons learned:

1.  Make sure alarm clock is ON.

2.  Get the girls’ school things ready the night before!

3.  Practice, practice, PRACTICE that blimming roundabout in my next couple of lessons.

4.  Remember the old chestnut:  If something sounds too good to be true, it probably is.

That is all.  Oh, except this: