Happy New Year

Well, Christmas is done for another year and what a voyage of discovery and new experiences it has been. Not least of which is the pillow fight that my 8 year old daughter is currently having in her bedroom with the 11 year old boy from next door… I have as much experience with 11 year olds as I do with sky-diving so I hadn’t a clue what he’d want to do when he came round to play for the first time after school today. But from the shrieking coming from the next room I think he’s enjoying himself. The actual objective of him coming over was to practice his English a bit – he’s Portuguese but he’s going to the same English school as mine while he’s here in Budapest. I’m not sure ‘I’m gonna get you!’ was the vocab practice his mother had in mind, but I am sure it will come in handy.

Pickle has also treated me to a genuinely new encounter – being locked in my own bathroom by a 6 year old. Who would have thought that a little pipsqueak like my Pickle could jam up a door handle so thoroughly just by hanging off it with all his insignificant weight as to require Nobby to take the door off its hinges to rescue me? I suppose I should be grateful that Nobby was around or else passers-by might have witnessed me lowering myself out of the window by my bathrobe-belt in a bid for freedom. Thankfully the door was not a right-off so all’s well that ends well.

I am pleased to report that I did indeed fit everything into the suitcases for our jaunt to the UK, although I had to borrow an extra one to bring all the Christmas treasures back again. Weighing the luggage before going to the airport was another unique experience. Mum helpfully trotted in with a set of bathroom scales to help me… they looked oddly familiar… in fact it was the same set of bathroom scales she had when I lived at home 20 years ago. Unlike myself I’m afraid they have not aged well (!) and they were not very flattering when reading my weight. I knew that there was no way I had gained half a stone over the festive period so I got off and tried again. Only for them to read even heavier the second time. I was really on a hiding to nothing trying to get an accurate feel for the weight of the suitcases, especially since they only showed stones and pounds and my maths is ropey at the best of times. But at least I know what to get my Mum next Christmas.

However, THIS Christmas little did I know that I was completely wasting my time with the frantic shopping, the endless wrapping and the careful packing. It became evident early on once Poppet had opened all her parcels that I need only have bought one thing this year and that no other toys, books or gadgets would be needed the rest of the holiday season. The Transformers lay untouched, the chocolate oranges remained intact. We didn’t even play the traditional 4 hour game of Newmarket on Christmas night. Suddenly the entire family became hooked onto one game – Uno Extreme. It’s a very simple card game to which some cunning game-designer somewhere has added a new twist. When you are required to pick up a card from the deck, you instead press a button on a little machine which randomly spews cards across the table for you, anything from 0 to 10 cards at a time. Pickle in particular thinks it’s terrific and I have it on good authority that my sister missed it so much after we brought it home that she went out and bought one for herself. Never has a family been so united in it’s obsession, (well at least not since I loaned the DVD box-set of ‘Lost’ to Pickle’s class teacher and hooked her entire family to their TV screen… )

I wonder what my brother will make of it all once he returns from honeymoon. Yes, the poor devil missed out on the family turkey-and-sprouts-fest this year as he was sunning himself and his new wife in Las Vegas. He was very dutiful and still texted me at midnight for the New Year – he was in Jamaica by that time, having apparently climbed a waterfall as his day’s activity whilst we were lazing around in our pjs and watching the dog play in the snow here in the sub-zeroes. They threw a superb do for their wedding, although they had to make do with fake snow from a foam-cannon for the Christmassy pictures. Nobby, Poppet and Pickle all performed their duties to perfection, as did I in my champagne-testing capacity although I think his be-kilted friend from school upstaged me with his mine-sweeping activities in the conference suite next door. Somehow he got away with snaffling a dozen bottles of wine from the tables while the delegates were dancing so that we wedding-goers could all carry on drinking once the bar staff had gone to bed. I never saw a sporran used for smuggling wine before…

The other hero has to be Patchy Pete the clown who entertained all the kids during the speeches. At first glance he appeared to be this little old man in a shabby patch-work suit whom the assembled children, high on sticky toffee pudding and chocolate party favours, would make mincemeat of in ten seconds flat. But an hour and a half later on he had them all wrapped round his little finger, sitting neatly in a row and roaring with laughter. Several parents were also enjoying the high jinks, I was among them - frantically taking notes on my napkin for future kid-control emergencies.

Actually, the kids were on top form the whole holiday, considering they slept in 5 different beds in 10 days and covered a few hundred miles in the car. All I can say is god bless Nintendo DS. We have two consoles now and it has never been quieter in the back seat of the car when the Nintendogs and My Sims are playing. Of course, Nobby now wants to graduate to a Wii after thoroughly road testing one at a friend’s house. I have video footage of him and his mate virtual-boxing in front of the telly in their playroom, although it’s a bit wobbly as I was laughing so hard while I took it. I guess I may be persuaded sometime in the future considering we are no nearer to getting BBC1 here in Hungary and I don’t fancy the new Dr Who much anyway, but we have series 4 of Lost to get through first so I can probably dig my heels in for a couple more weeks.

For now it’s back to the routine, which I didn’t miss one iota while we were away in view of the fact that I didn’t have to cook or clean or iron for 10 glorious days. But I confess that I am enjoying the peace while the kids are in school, especially since this evening’s activities have been so noisy and I had no excuse to shush them on behalf of the neighbours because they were part of the pack. Tiggy and I are back to our customary post-school-run walks in the park, which is currently under 3 inches of snow and giving me every excuse not to go too hard at the post-Christmas speed-walking just yet in case I slip and hurt myself. Mind you, the crazy joggers are still huffing past us every few minutes, risking their necks for their daily fitness session. Good luck to them, I say; I’m not ready for my spandex just yet, even though, like Nobby, when I undress the ol’ post-mince pie physique is less Mr Beefcake and more Mr Cheesecake. But the thigh-length duvet-coat covers a multitude of sins while it keeps me warm in minus 5 degrees all day long, so my first new year resolution is don’t leave home without one. The diet will wait.