Mistletoe and whine

On weeks like this, when I’m off work with the microbe for an extended period, I begin to have wistful memories of those distant days when I had a modicum of personal space… pre-June 2011.

Apparently my primary function these days is to be a very small climbing frame at all times. 100% of microbe activity is best achieved from a sitting position of on-mummy’s-head or squashed beside mummy on the sofa, so that she is perched on a 3-inch wedge of seat. I can’t put on mascara without someone tugging at my arm halfway through and turning me into Rorschach – and eyeliner is quite simply impossible. Even as I type, there is a chimp hanging off my neck, attempting to commandeer use of my left arm.

Still – c’est la vie! It’s not as if I didn’t bring it all on myself…

Anyway, I digress. This post is really just a festive aide memoir and a pictorial dumping ground for the last week or so. Given that Xmas-fever started around mid-October in Microbeland, it would be odd not to commemorate the actual business with a blog.

This year started with several mini-Xmases before the main event, in which we gathered together with family and opened early presents. By the time Xmas eve proper came long, I felt like we were already well past boxing day…

Christmas Eve was a quiet one at home, though the microbe got himself so excited that he crashed out face-first around 4pm, watching a nativity animation on TV. When he woke up he had ‘The Night Before Christmas‘ with daddy and then pootled around quietly with stickers and drawing…



All great …until the time came to hang up his stocking and leave some treats for Father C and the reindeer.


At this point we had an overexcited missile on our hands that was simply INCAPABLE of falling asleep. Despite putting him to bed around 8:30-ish, he managed to stay awake until gone midnight. Every time we checked on him he was lying in his bed with wide-open eyes waiting for Father Christmas.

I was beginning to feel a wee bit remorseful at this point – I may have overdone the “Father Christmas won’t come unless you BEHAVE” in the previous day or two and the boybot seemed to have got himself into a state of high anxiety that he wasn’t going to come. He told us he’d been looking out of his window all night hoping to see the sleigh but it never came… and daddy and I had to reassure him that he would only come when he fell asleep… until, at last, he crashed. As it was, Father C didn’t dare creep into his room with the stocking until 1am, at which point mummy and daddy were verging on comatose.

Then came Xmas morning… and our overexcited missile was right back on form!


Suffice to say, of all of the lovely things that Father Christmas stuffed in his stocking, his favourite was a toy aardvark, closely followed by a snowdog (a la Raymond Briggs) and the long-awaited badger. This trio has become his new bedtime gang for chief cuddles.



Given a choice, I would personally have liked to spend Christmas day hiding under a duvet in silence with my Kindle – but we had the next best thing. A lovely day at home with just the three of us, a pile of presents and a fabulous lunch made entirely by daddy.

To those of you who sent him (and us) glorious things, I can confirm that we loved everything and thank you notes will follow.

Boxing day turned our flat into full-scale Toymageddon and it has not recovered yet. Tidying up is an act of futility that only Wilfred Owen could put into words. God only knows what your place looks like if you have to accommodate multiple microbes. Ours is quite capable of covering every square inch of floor all by himself.

(That evening we threw it all into toyboxes so that we could entertain friends for dinner and play a self-proclaimed “card game for horrible people“. My kind of game!)

Then came 28th – aka DUVET DAY heaven! Albeit one in which my “duvet” is made of a lumpy, jumpy, punchy, stir-crazy 3-year-old boy that galumphs on top of me and shrieks into my ear all day long.

Yesterday we decided that the boybot might actually explode from any more enforced inertia and took him out for a wander in Richmond Park to look at deer and horses. A fantastic decision, as it turned out, because our timing was perfect. It was such a beautiful, golden, cold and sunny afternoon, with sunset just setting in as we left.

Today little Jamesey Attenborough received an animal sticker book in the post that he’d chosen using a gift voucher. It has animals from all around the world and he’s been driving me nuts with questions and demands like these…

“Mummy, can we go to Australia?”
“Er, maybe one day. But it’s very, very far away”
“Mummy, what do armadillos do?”
“Er… I don’t really know what they do all day”
“What do they eat?”
“Um… maybe bugs?”
“No, mummy! I don’t think it’s bugs.”
“Ok, I’ll look it up in a minute”
“Can we go to the rainforest mummy?”
“Cam we go today??”
“No. Not today”
“Well it’s also a long long way away and costs a lot of money. Maybe when you’re older”
“I promise I won’t go near a crocodile”
“Good. But you will still need to wait until you’re older”
“Ohhhhh!!!  But mummy I’ve never seen a armadilllllloooooooo!”

Sigh…  I’ve got another 4 days of this.  Someone pass the valium.

About Susan Flockhart

Bonsai lady-geek and blogger. I can hardly recall what I used to blog about pre-microbes, but these days I generally ramble about motherhood, nonsense and whatever's going on the world of tiny people
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