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Why Christmas is a parenting admin nightmare

Why Christmas is a parenting admin nightmare
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Parental admin is overwhelming for 11 months of the year, but festive parental admin takes things to a level above Santa’s sleigh when travelling at high altitude. I am drowning in a sea of so many forms I can no longer see my kitchen table, and I’ve got more things to cross off lists than the most industrious of elves on a double bubble shift down the toy factory.

This week, I have returned a form to say what my son would like for his school Christmas dinner, and another for a school trip, I’ve turned the house upside-down looking for unwanted presents to re-gift to the fayre tombola (never did find much use for that Peter Andre Live DVD), had a clear-out of old toys for the pre-loved stall, and filled an old pickle jar with Haribo Fangtastics for the much-anticipated jam jar stall (get there early, always a sell-out).

So much to do, so little time

I’ve deliberated over whether Raffi should join the Christmas choir and figured as he’s seven and still can’t remember all the words to Baa Baa Black Sheep, he’d be best holding out for busting samba moves at the Summer Fayre instead. I’ve bought raffle tickets. I’ve given to the collection for teacher presents.

And I’ve done all these things all over again for my daughter’s pre-school. And this is before we get on to Christmas performance costumes, or practising lines, or writing 29 Christmas cards for everyone in class, a task that needs to be done over three sittings due to inability to sit down for more than six minutes.

I haven’t yet volunteered to man a stall at either fayre, worked out how to fit in going to their nativities to sob eyeliner down my face around my work, made plans to visit the big man, or got them to write lists for him inspired by awful things they’ve seen during the ad break in Horrid Henry. Any chance of hiring an admin angel to work some festive miracles, do you think?

Three things I need to be doing with my kids instead of festive admin

  • Making gingerbread men covered in dubious, wonky icing so they look like they’ve been at the egg nog.
  • Bruising my shins and being terrified at the ice rink. Actually, I think I’m due a heavy admin session on that day…
  • Going carol singing and not knowing any of the words to O Little Town Of Bethlehem (see above re Baa Baa Black Sheep).

Read More

Is it wine o’clock yet? The trials and tribulations of getting through the day as a working mum

Feel Lara’s pain? Let her know on Twitter: @larajkilner

About Lara: Mum to a shouty six-year-old and a fast moving three-year old. Along with going to work and getting annoyed with my husband for leaving his pants on the floor, there isn’t much time for anything else.





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