Wednesday, 11 December 2013

I could talk about Christmas but I won't...

Yes, I could talk about Christmas, I could blog about Christmas inviting you all to share in my idyllic picture perfect home this year but that would be dull and probably mostly a lie. How many blogs are there out there, as well as Facebook updates, Twitter feeds, Pinterest photos etc which depict a perfectly arranged tree with angelic children smiling at the camera? Too many. In reality, the children have been bribed to stand still and smile with the promise of edible goods later, the perfectly arranged tree is a close up- if you were to zoom out you would find chaos in the form of papers, toys and possibly dog sick amongst the wallpaper which the toddler has just pulled from the wall. You know that as soon as you put the camera down and let your unruly dog back into the living area it will then proceed to eat your wonderful tree. True story.

So, let me not bore you with made-up pretentious drivel which I feel the need to share with you (probably in a futile aim to elevate my own self-esteem) and instead I shall move on to the much more interesting and highly truthful topic of MOVING HOUSE.

Haha, bet you didn't see that one coming. We are currently awaiting a very important and potentially life-changing piece of paper which will tell us whether or not we can begin the process of moving house. So far, this process has taken three months. Yawn, Sigh. This was the last of a long-line of uncertainties; persuading my other half to part with his money proved challenging, assuring the buyer of our house, her children, her grandchildren and even her friends that our house was a good buy, chatting to Mr. Halifax and his over-priced surveyor that our change of mortgage was a good investment and finally, we are awaiting a decision from a board of directors from the North York Moors National Park as to whether we can make our dream a reality. Blimey. It is no wonder my jaw is permanently clenched (by the way does anybody have a cure for that?).

I believe the most frustrating thing here is the uncertainty, and I do not deal well with uncertainty. I am a self-confessed obsessive organiser.  If I wasn't such a fanny I would be in a Commander in The Royal Marines or perhaps PA to HHR The Queen. I am that annoying person who always gets involved regardless of the situation because I believe (probably falsely) that the job will not be completed otherwise. Therefore, to have this decision hanging over my head for the last twelve weeks is a bit like stretching me in a medieval torture device.

Yes, it is Christmas, of that I am certain, and I have been extra organised this year, leaving me with no further tasks to complete. My Christmas tree is up, decorated well and my children spend most of the day removing and rearranging the decorations...