Christmas was me and my two children (8 and 5)
No drama. No arguments. No resentments. No grudges. No hissed arguments. No stress.
Just me and my children. Our little gang. We opened stockings, for breakfasts they had the treat cereal i had brought them for Xmas whilst I just had a yoghurt - so no big washing up afterwards. Instead they played with stocking bits whilst I pottered.
Then we got dressed and opened some sack presents. They were incredibly excited about giving me their present they’d got with their dad (my ex) for me.
Then we did their jigsaws and then raced mario karts on my son’s new wii. I prepared lunch (mainly from marks other than the roasties and my daughter’s all time fav of honey roasted carrots), we ate and then did an entire 24 pack of crackers in one session!
Then more presents.
Then a really lovely walk, involving the two of them having a nerf laser gun battle.
Then I did left overs and pizza in front of Home alone 2. They then had baths with their bath fizzing bombs.
They were in bed usual time of 7.30, at which point I had a mug of horlicks and watched bird box.
Much the same yesterday.
Today I’m going to yoga for an hour whilst they sit in reception watching a film on the iPad, then home for lunch then I’ve booked local theatre show of wizard kid oz, then swing in to friend’s home on walk back from town for a glass of mulled wine, then back home for dinner and bed.
I’m so happy. On paper it looks tragic. Both parents deceased. I’m divorced. No close family.
But actually - it’s bloody marvellous.