Motherhood at Christmas…

Crikey, that swung around as quickly as a toddler with a loaded paintbrush. Christmas is here again, the shops would have you believe that they are selling out of this years craze and school friends are swinging the vote for my daughter’s requests from Santa. This is our 6th Christmas as parents, and here’s my completely serious, helpful guide to a stress-free festive period.

Go abroad. Honestly, leave the country. I’m not talking about taking your partner and kids either, just you. Get on a cheap flight anywhere and even 2 weeks trekking the Gobi desert with no water will be a comparative breeze.

Fake your own death. Only until the January sales, mind. Don’t want to miss out on those 7O% off bargains in Debenhams do you? It’ll be a late Christmas present to your kids when you re-emerge, Lazarus-like, on the 6th. If you time it right the decorations will have put themselves away, too.

“Pop a box of mince pies to a mate or neighbour you haven’t seen in a while and don’t be worried about ignoring social media.”

Adopt an inappropriate wild animal. Accidentally trouser a baby squirrel from your local shelter. The entire family will be so focussed on hourly feeds and instagramming it wearing hats that they won’t notice your absence. You can spend Christmas in the local and by the time it’s all over the animal will be grown up and you can sell it for parts on the dark web.

Create a family treasure hunt which just leads them really far away. Hide clues at service stations up the M6 until they are on the Scottish border and you’ve turned the kid’s bedroom into a games room and are 29 hours deep into Call of Duty. When they inevitably call home just pretend you’ve got amnesia and don’t remember your former lives together.

Introduce the kids to horror films. This serves the duel purpose of keeping them very quiet AND brings up questions about their own mortality. Start with The Exorcist and work backwards. They’ll shore up a huge amount of appreciation for not being possessed by a demon over the festive period that you’re guaranteed to be lathered with gratitude come Christmas morning.

Now obviously I’m being a tad over-dramatic here (except about the baby squirrel – this is just plain sensible) but it’s worth keeping in mind that not everyone loves this time of year as much as they might seem. Pop a box of mince pies to a mate or neighbour you haven’t seen in a while and don’t be worried about ignoring social media, it can be an utterly false picture of how happy everyone else is. Look after yourselves first, and everyone around you will be happier as a result. Take care, kids, and if it all goes wrong I’ll see you in the Gobi desert.