Here we are... Christmas

Or near enough.
The tree is up. The snow has fallen and is continuing to fall. The boy performed in his nativity today and I sat like an over emotional mammy. There is something about children singing 'Away in a Manger' which gets me right in the pit of my stomach.
The presents are bought. The cards are written. I'm ashamed to say they're not posted yet... but I'll do that tomorrow. Nothing is wrapped. I have been uber organised and ordered a turkey from a proper butchers and everything though - even though we are supposed to be having Christmas at my mum's house. (hubby wants our own leftovers!).
The logistical nightmare of the Santa run on Christmas Eve is starting to give me the heebies - especially if this snow and ice continue.
I have already eaten too many Celebrations and drank too much wine.
The book? Well no, it isn't finished yet. It's getting there - I just need to find the time.

But I also need to find the time to breath, relax and just be me for a bit. Not me the mammy. Not me the journalist. Not me the wife, or daughter, or sister, or friend. Not me the writer. Not me the blogger. Just me. If I can remember who she is.
That will be my Christmas gift to myself.

And to all those who have read, posted, commented, emailed, bought books, borrowed books, trekked to signings, listened in to interviews, read columns or stopped me in the street - God bless and a very, merry Christmas to you. I hope, during this festive season, you get some time with the real you as well.