There are half unpacked suitcases strewn throughout the house. The offspring are playing (mostly) happily with their toys, and finally there is some time to reflect.
After the months of stresses, the last minute flurries and anxieties, suddenly it was upon us.
Christmas Eve. And so, with our offspring in tow, we went to the children's mass at the Cathedral in Sydney.
It's hard to hide tears when you watch three little heads excitedly bob up and down as they join in the singing of the carols. Husband and I exchanged grins as they exclaimed over the Nativity Scene, and we helped to steady nervous little hands, as they lit candles to honour the memories of family members who were and always will be absent from our Christmas festivities.
The pang of sorrow I will always feel about my aunt and godmother was ever present. But we have learned to co-exist this pain and I. She may be gone, but the love? That was and will always remain.
Christmas day itself was magical.
My brother and sister in law opened their heart and home to us. This was despite the fact they had become parents again only days before.

From the delicious cinnamon rolls Kenna baked for us, through to the pecan pies my brother made as well as my mum's cooked turkey and hams, there was a veritable feast for all.
It was of course, served on plastic plates and eaten using knives and forks of the same vintage. When you're moving house in a couple of weeks and the house itself is about to be knocked down, it's the perfect way to eat.

There was an amazing wine tasting session and the introduction of a new family tradition called "Dirty Santa." And naturally there was  a continual stream of jokes that left my sides aching from laughter the next day.
We watched as the offspring and their cousins played on the "slip and slide"outside, and all day I felt total contentment.
That this Christmas, that was spent on the other side of Australia, in a house that will be demolished in a few short weeks was the perfect place for us all to be.
In some way, this rundown, almost ramshackle home symbolised exactly what Christmas means to me. That it doesn't matter really what it all looks like at all, it's the love we are surrounded by that really counts.
I hope you and yours had a wonderful time

xxx

A friend once said to me, that the anxiety she suffered from was like having a filter missing. I asked her to explain that, and she said that humans have a filter that enables them to cope with not only everyday life, but also the horrors we are bombarded with on the news and worldwide. When that filter is missing, the anxiety is overwhelming.
I have a huge tendency to be over-anxious. I've come to realise over the past year that exercise is my filter. Without it, I get anxious about everything.
This past week or so I haven't been able to exercise on doctors orders and the effects have been enormous. But every morning when I get up I spray my current favourite perfume Clinique's "Happy" on and verbalise my commitment to, you know, be happy.
For anyone who has suffered or huge loss, it's often on happy occasions we find ourselves taking deep breaths wondering if we do allow ourselves to be happy, will the world come crashing down around us? Because, it has before. I've written about one of those shattering occasions here.
Anyway, over the weekend we had a couple of family occasions where I had to do just that. I had to give myself permission to embrace the joy and laughter around me. And when I did.
Well it was just wonderful.
Firstly I should explain that I said good-bye to an old companion this week. It has become a bit toxic and it was decided we should part ways.

So I was left with this (and it's hiding alot of stitches) I'd just like to say I've had 3 c-sections and they weren't as sore as my arm has been. Just so you know. :)


To cheer myself up I went from this:

to this:

But the best bit of all was at my daughter's kindergarten picnic where we borrowed my parents vintage car, dressed my husband as Santa and he rode up and was surrounded by so many excited children. His extreme makeover was the best of all. Our own children didn't recognise him and days later they are still talking about Santa's visit. In the photo you can see I gave myself permission to be absolutely, ecstatically happy.

And you know what?
The sky didn't fall in.
Nothing bad happened.
And it probably won't.
But I will be very glad to get back to bootcamp next week once my stitches are out.
I miss my filter.