You know, that moment of remembrance that kicks in when you and dh are snapping at each other over fairy lights, the kids are getting under your feet (and being more destructive than helpful) your house is a shit tip of boxes and tissue paper and you finally REMEMBER; putting up decorations is way more fun and lovely in your head than in real life. I swear my 22 month old was on a one toddler mission to send me to the looney bin today. Should have realised she was going to be a monumental pain in the arse when most of the time that we were at the Christmas tree farm was spent chasing her around whist she screamed 'cant catching me!' at the top of her voice and ran the opposite direction. Dh was so grumpy because he just wanted to sit and watch me do it all and I made him help. Dd7 was great, until she decided she wanted to do it all her way and then she got stroppy. The cat, usually my ally, decided to attack my feet every time I walked passed the tree. Still, it is done now, the house looks pretty and I have wine. Please tell me I am not alone!