Tuesday, 1 January 2013

Goodbye 2012, hello 2013!

New Years Eve 2012... it all went a bit like this...

10am  - me and The Husband talk about how we may spend this particular New Year's Eve and come up with a BOLD PLAN.

12noon - we collect The (now) Nine Year Old who celebrated his birthday at his Dad's the previous day.  As The Husband and The Nine Year Old share a 30th December birthday we are having small scale belated birthday celebration at home today.

12.30pm - The Nine Year Old opens his birthday presents which include - to The Husbands horror - a Chelsea Football shirt.  The Nine Year Old is delighted and proceeds to put the shirt on and starts tugging at the tags whilst me and The Husband are looking at him trying to decide whether or not the top fits him.  Too late, the tags are off - the top, therefore, it is decided, does indeed fit.

2pm - I decorate the Nine Year Old and The Husbands birthday cakes - one each as The Nine Year Old prefers to keep it simple with a good old Victoria Sponge whilst The Husband is more of a Speckled Mocha man.

3pm  -  The Parents (my Mum and Dad) arrive to join us for a birthday tea.  I say tea but rather than traditional tea party style fodder, The Nine Year Old has requested his favourite meal of Roast Chicken.  Roast Chicken it is then.

4pm - The Husband unveils the evenings BOLD PLAN to The Nine Year Old.  The Nine Year Old is delighted.

6pm - The Parents - having declined our invitation to be involved in the BOLD PLAN - leave for home packed up with a lot of cake. 

8pm - Stage one of the BOLD PLAN is operational!  We throw caution to wind and don't even give our usual routine (I use the word 'routine' very lightly) a look in. Instead we decide which films we will watch to keep us going unitl midnight.  Yes.  Midnight.  We have - in a stroke of questionable parenting - decided that we will see the New Year in all together this this year.  We will watch TV, nap if we need to, and eat as many snacks as we desire.

 What can I say? It seemed like a good idea at the time.

10.30pm - The Husband, who doesn't often drink more than a singular beer or glass of wine with dinner, is working his way through a 9% giant bottle of Trader Joe beer that was a present to him at Christmas 2011 - he has a daft grin on his face.  The Nine Year Old is laying on the sofa blinking lots and claiming not to be tired.  I am struggling to keep my eyes open and beginning to wish I was in bed. The Husband makes me a cup of tea in a bid to get me back on track with the BOLD PLAN.  The One Year Old is running around the room giggling, despite having started with a cold, and is showing no signs of giving in to sleep any time soon.

11.25pm - I'm back in the game and back on the wine for the build up to midnight. The Husband is still drinking the Trader Joe.  The One Year Old is (finally) asleep on my knee. The Nine Year Old is just about to fall asleep...yup.  There he goes....Zzzzzzzzzz.....

11.50pm - We (me and The Husband) are watching the BBC live coverage from fancy London following my rant about my beloved Jools pre-recorded Hootenanny which we are recording but which I refuse to watch for the big countdown due to the big fake pre-recorded falseness of it all.  Of course, all those years I've watched it before, I knew 'deep down that no-one who appeared would ever actually give up their New Years Eve to be on the telly.  Least of all, I imagine, Jools.  Despite knowing this,  when I actually accepted this truth it was like finding out Santa didn't exist.  Not good.

11.55pm - We decide to wake The Nine Year Old for the big moment.  Are we bad parents?  The Nine Year Old wakes and then promptly falls back to sleep.  Me and The Husband see in the New Year.  We then rewind the 'live' coverage so that we can attempt to wake The Nine Year Old again to welcome in the New Year.  Success!  Through sleepy eyes The Nine Year Old sees the countdown followed by the fireworks over the Thames.  Me and The Husband exchange complicit smiles.  And I feel like a hypocrite for letting The Nine Year Old watch a pre-recordered New Year!

Then we all trundle off to bed.  Tired but very happy.  Until The One Year Old wakes up an hour later, coughing and crying with a fever, in need of medicine and completely overtired!!  "Happy ******  New Year" I mumble under my breath.

Perhaps next year we may need to rethink the BOLD PLAN.

Happy New Year one and all!  Here's wishing you and yours a wonderful 2013, may it be filled with fun and laughter and happiness.

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