Closing the doors on the advent calendar idea

Last year my friend, who blogs as When you ARE that woman, wrote a lovely post about a book and DVD advent calendar she had made for her sons, where they had a Christmassy thing to read or watch each December evening in the run up to the big day.

I loved the idea of this and from January-March I pounced on any Christmassy reads in charity shops hoping to make my own. I got so many I thought perhaps I would make them for friends' kids too. It wasn't hard - as That woman had pointed out to me, many books you don't automatically think of as a Christmas book is actually set at Christmas - Cops and Robbers takes place on Christmas Eve, That's not my penguin might as well be and the wintry scene of The Gruffalo's Child is ripe for a North Pole interpretation.


But all this was before I knew a second one was on the way, due the week before Christmas and within days of the first one's birthday. A birthday, a birth (hopefully), Chanukah (a present a day for eight days!) and Christmas itself suddenly seems an awful lot to contend with without having to summon up enthusiasm for an extra twenty-four presents, and not just opening them but reading or watching them too.

So whilst I am looking forward to watching The Snowman and introducing my daughter to the comfort of an annual tearfest, and Father Christmas Needs a Wee tickles me despite poor rhyme and an unlovable Santa, and Brigg's Father Christmas is fit for both reading and watching, and Cops and Robbers will do me any day of the year, and I'm rather taken by Penny Ives' Mrs Christmas, and the tactile That's not my..., be it snowman, penguin or santa, still pleases us all, an organised once a day advent thing is proving a bit beyond me this year.


Of course birthdays and Christmas are immovable and Chanukah moves though is beyond my control, so this will be the case forever more,. But I still love the idea. One day I shall be brave enough to try it.

Who loves me?

I found this lovely present while browsing online - almost, but not quite, as good as my idea of personalised family top trumps with categories for presents, cooking, cuddles etc.

Available here

It's my blog so I'll self-promote if I want to

These two books would make great Christmas presents.

For people who want to change the world but don't quite know how to go about it, for those with time on their hands to write a letter, sign a petition, join a committee or go on a protest, for young people and older people and everyone in between, for friends and siblings and colleagues and anyone you need to buy a secret santa gift for...



And for women, and men, who say 'I'm not a feminist but...' and then go on to say things such as 'but I believe in equality' or 'women should have careers too' or 'of course I think we should share the housework', and for people who don't say that kind of thing but need re-educating. For your friend, your girlfriend, your sister, your mum, your aunty, your colleague, your nan. And for your brother, your boyfriend, your dad, your uncle, your grandad. Or for yourself of course - you deserve a gift too.

Things that make me feel like a mum #1: Having a present cupboard

It's not literally a cupboard, but only because our house is small and there's not a lot of storage space, but I do have a shelf of presents appropriate for different ages all ready for a forgotten birthday, an unexpected Christmas gift needing reciprocity or a last minute invite. I also have sellotape, wrapping paper and various gift bags and a stash of all purpose cards. Get me - I'm totally grown up!

She's perfect, we kept her.

A friend used to tell me I thought too much to which I used to reply "You can't think too much" by which I meant "You CAN'T think too much" rather than "YOU can't think too much."

But it is possible that I have been thinking too much about our current favourite book. By current I mean for the past six months with no signs of falling out of favour - and that's just me, though the baby likes it too. 

It's Rod Campbell's Dear Zoo. In it the narrator, wanting a pet, is sent various animals by the zoo but there is something wrong with every one - the elephant too big, the lion too fierce, the frog too jumpy - and the narrator sends them back until they send the perfect match. 

It's a lovely lovely book. It was a 'being born' present from friends and we read it most days. But sometimes I worry that it's giving the baby the message that if something isn't quite right you just get rid of it. "We love you despite any imperfections," I tell her. "You can be as jumpy, fierce or big as you want and we'll still keep you." She looks at me, quite rightly, as if I'm mad. 

(It really is lovely. And it has flaps. I recommend it as a present for any parent child.)