So a respectable morning start at 7, medicate Mog and find her some Christmassy clothing, then watch her fall asleep as I drink the first coffee of the day. Radio on, clothes on, more coffee surrounded by the silence of sleeping children. It's nice not to be woken at silly o'clock by children too excited to sleep, but after nearly ten years of being a parent, it would be nice one day to have a child even vaguely excited about the prospect of Christmas.
Grannie arrived to help out, then left to ready the church. Little Fish declared herself full after 6 spoons of porridge, got excited at the party dress then very sad at the idea of tights. Her reflux is playing up at the moment so I now temporarily have two children on feeding pumps, fun times. The pumps we get (and no, we don't have any choice about which make of pump or even which model) come with a rucksack which is larger than Little Fish's back; she wears it sitting in her Minny chair and it comes up over her head and rests on the floor all at once. Mog my big girl has hers running at 90mls an hour and we just about manage to get 1.2Litres into her over the course of a day. Little Fish my toddler now has hers running at 300mls an hour and gets the same volume in 4 separate hour long feeds. And doesn't fidget, I don't get my hair pulled and my face slapped for fiddling with her sore tummy, and she doesn't puke. Just a minor tantrum as we turn it on. And then major potential for mayhem as she dances around Mog weaving an intricate web of tubes and giving sets. Good times.
To church, and to a sentence I never thought I'd say "Jesus is the only true WYSIWYG" ("What you see is what you get" for the non bloggers amongst you). We had a biscuit tin filled with rubbish (what fun), a lemonade bottle full of water (oh the joy), and earmuffs instead of headphones for the drummer (I reckon the drummer's family and neighbours might appreciate the headphones more than the drummer anyway, but what do I know?). Wildly excited children, some of whom claimed to have been up before 4, a church packed full again, jubilation and celebration and glee. And Mog slept through it. And Little Fish sat on my lap kissing my nose whispering "I like you Mummy". It could have been a lot worse.
A quick church tidy up (what do you do with 80 leftover Christingled oranges?) and back to my parents' for some cooking. Mog slumbered on, Little Fish slowly and deliberately transferred cheese biscuits one at a time onto a plate, then repeated the process for chocolate truffles, mince pies, and finally unwrapped the butter and put it in a dish - a process so exciting she had to take a trip into the sitting room to show Grandad.
Into the dining room, a table, assorted chairs, a Christmas tree and presents presents presents underneath. And Little Fish more excited by her highchair than by thoughts of any gifts.
Lunch (goose). Mog woke up, had a lick of Christmas Pudding, choked and opted out of other foods.
Finally coffee and time to open some presents. Mog opened her eyes. The girls started with their gifts from Helen House, and Mog's doll turned out to be her favourite.
She held it in her arms for the rest of the afternoon, not knocking it off or kicking it down once just clinging on firmly
But we didn't stop, and now both girls have books and scarves and snuggly blankets, Mog has a coat and a shiny silver hat, lots of music and assorted new tops. Little Fish has an entire range of In The Night Garden stuff - amazingly no duplicates and each new piece greeted with further glee. An Upsy Daisy in bed, a Makka Pakka, a Ninky Nonk (I want a Ninky Nonk, would make a great rollercoaster - Alton Towers or similar please take note), stickers, books..it's safe to say she's a very happy girl. And she has her own little cooker now (not a working one, although it does have a
Dr Who ("what's that Mummy who's that what's that why they do that oh NO what's that what's that?"). And then walk home, and utter meltdown for Little Fish (and grins from Mog; she does find it funny when LF gets into a state), and then bed. Two cats queuing in the hallway pretending to be starved. And Mog, still not able to sleep in her bed, but cuddled to sleep in my arms and then
A good day. Family times, phone tag with relatives (both mine and Mog's), good food, a cosy sort of a day.
And now sitting here in peace, Mog's music playing softly and the hiss and whine of Little Fish's Nippy hinting that she may finally have settled. One cat on the kitchen table watching the fish, the other on a comfy chair watching me and trying to persuade me to go to bed. He could well be right.