So, it's Christmas holiday time. I have the mother of all head colds and it's gone up into my sinuses. This is never a good thing. At the lower end of the scale it means pain behind the eyes, aversion to bright lights and a dull headache that just wont shift, together with the runny nose and sore throat. That's where I'm at now. I'm desperately hoping to keep it at that stage because at the high end of the scale is blinding pain behind the eyes, pain in the light where only near dark is comfortable and a burning desire to take a metal coat hanger and extract my sinuses manually.
On top of that the sinus / cold thing has really screwed up my writing stuff I was planning to do this holiday anyway. Christmas is bad enough anyway as a holiday. Meaning that Christmas is probably the only holiday that my brain treats as a holiday and decides to take a break from the never ending to do list. But being ill just makes it worse to get the brain in gear and actually do something. I've spent the last couple of days trying to do things but then just being too tired / ill to do them and instead have resorted to just sitting in front of some movie or other watching the mini laptop sit on the coffee table. If a mini laptop could look accusingly at me, that's what mine's been doing these past two nights.
Of course, Christmas is progressing well despite me being under par. Molly is getting more and more excited with each passing day. So much so that it's already very difficult to get her to go to sleep and we just dread to think of the nightmare that Christmas eve will bring. molly is still definitely a believer in the Santa thing. And we honestly believe we'll get one more Christmas after this one before she starts to question it. There have been a couple of questions this year, but nothing serious and it's quite obvious that she still wants to believe in Santa. Somehow, both Louise and I feel there's no way she'd be as certain that the guy in the big red suit existed if she was still in Birmingham. Far too many media savvy children telling the nasty truth we feel.
So this year we fully expect a nightmare. Molly too excited to sleep. Me awake at 3am again trying to get her stocking into her room without her waking up and then maybe, just maybe, getting a whole hour or two of sleep before she stirs, sees the stocking, realises he's been and rushes into us. Stupid people with no experience of this will say that we should make her go back to sleep at this point. but short of milk laced with whiskey to knock her out there's no way in the world she's capable of going back to sleep at this point. So we'll get up at 4:30 or 5am and have a fantastic very early morning, just like last year and the year before. It's a small price to pay for all the excitement and joy and it wont be many years before she's too old to be excited and it will be Louise and I trying to get her up before midday on Christmas Day. I'll suffer the 4 / 5am start fro a few more years with pleasure.