Sunday, 14 December 2014

The (Dismal) Reality of Meeting Santa



At almost three, my daughter is finally old enough to understand, and get excited about, Santa. She is really looking forward to Santa sneaking down our chimney on Christmas Eve and leaving her a reindeer. Ok, maybe she doesn’t fully understand it all, but she’s certainly getting there.

With this in mind, when I found out there was a grotto at the forest we visit to buy our Christmas Tree, I thought Ebony might like to tell Santa about the reindeer she wants for Christmas. And, to be honest, I was hoping he might let her know that live animal gifts aren’t really in his remit.

We had planned to arrive early, but, of course, arrived in the middle of the day, and sat in a queue waiting to get into the car park. Once we’d parked up, we made our way to the grotto to discover a frighteningly long line of dead-eyed, weary parents and screaming, miserable children. At this point, I wanted to turn back. I didn’t want to become one of those parents, and I really didn’t want to stand in line with the bored, whining children.

It soon become clear that this was not my decision to make. I had promised Ebony she would meet Santa, and so she was going to bloody well do that. We begrudgingly joined the back of the very, very long line. Laurie wanted to know the time, so that we’d be able to calculate how long we would be waiting. This seemed like a good idea at the time, but to any parents about to join a Santa’s Grotto queue, I have only one piece of advice, do NOT look at your watch. It will haunt you, as every hour crawls by, you will be filled with a deep hate and resentment towards Santa, the elves and all the cheap plastic crap adorning the walls of your line. If you’re lucky that is, we didn’t have any cheap plastic crap to look at, we just had row after row of wooden barrier separating us from the other miserable families around us.

After ten minutes of waiting in line, we were able to take a step forwards. I overshot, mistakenly thinking I was making headway, and ended up crotch to bottom with the middle-aged man in front of me. I quickly stepped back again, only to end up behind my starting point. Overcompensating for the unintentional bum rub I had just provided. Fifteen minutes into the wait, another family joined the queue. Finally, we were no longer at the back. Do not be fooled though, we were by no means nearer the front.

Twenty minutes into our wait, our previously excited toddler transformed into a hungry, angry creature worthy only of exorcism. It was at this point that we realised we had left the food in the car. Of course, I could have offered to nip back to the car to grab some snacks, but there was a very good chance that I would not return to the grotto, and would instead be found hours later, shaking and sobbing as I suffered flashbacks from my time in the queue.

So as not to dishearten parents, and put people off joining the queue, the barriers forced us to zigzag our way to the grotto’s entrance. It took us twenty five minutes to reach the first zig. Thanks to Laurie’s helpful timekeeping skills, he was then able to calculate that we were a fifth of the way to the grotto. In twenty five minutes.

The family behind us had two children, one younger and one older than Ebony. The younger, I assume, had more of a victim role in the family, with her older brother taking on the position of bully. The barriers were dotted with wooden boxes that opened to reveal something crap like a mirror, or some mud-stained fluff. Each time we reached the next box, Ebony ran over to have a look only for the boy to shove her out of the way and look himself. Thanks to this little cherub, I ended up having to carry Ebony most of the way.

By the time we had queued up for 40 minutes, I had constructed an email (in my mind, of course) to the organisers with constructive criticism which I thought might be helpful for them to improve the attraction by next year. This included things like clearly displayed wait times, dealing with the overflowing rubbish bins amidst the barriers, and having some elves or other people to make the wait less soul-destroying.

Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t like they had no elves. Every twenty minutes or so a bearded elf would emerge from the grotto, glance across to the end of the queue with a look of sheer panic on his face, glance down at his watch, grimace, and then disappear back inside. It was a joy to behold.

As we slowly zigged and zagged towards the grotto, we noticed that there was a particular section in the barriers where all the children cried. We decided to call this the Cry Zone, and really hoped that Ebony would be able to resist the urge to sob when we finally reached that part of the line. She couldn’t. Almost as soon as we passed the overflowing bin of takeaway boxes and mulled wine cups that made up the entrance of this less-than-desirable part of the queue, she started to sob. She was hungry, and cold, and bored. And she cried for the whole of that zig and the following zag. That was about twenty minutes. Of my one, precious life. There was no consoling her. She wanted to meet Santa, she did not want to wait, she did not want to leave.

Eventually, with our nerves frayed, we reached the end of the Cry Zone. By this time, we had been queueing for one hour and five minutes, twenty of which had been spent holding a crying, angry toddler. And, just to be clear, I hadn’t managed to get a mulled wine before joining the queue. The end of the Cry Zone featured a number of interactive displays and games, all of which were greatly enjoyed for twenty seconds before the boy behind shoved Ebony out of the way.

After an hour and 15 minutes of queuing in the cold, with frostbite taking hold on our toes, we made it to the grotto door. I tried really hard to contain my tears of pure joy as I turned the corner only to discover the MORE WAITING lurking just behind the door. As we waited in line behind my crotch friend from earlier in the day, an overly friendly member of staff desperately tried to make conversation with the tired, trudging, bleary eyed shadows we had become.

Eventually, a bell sounded and the family in front disappeared down an exciting looking path made of Christmas trees and fairy lights. I imparted with a perversely large amount of money for the opportunity to queue for such an extremely long time in such tortuous conditions. Five minutes of attempted awkward small talk later, and the bell sounded again, signalling our turn to enter the mystical forest inside the grotto. Ebony ran forwards, excitedly hurrying past the flashing lights and creeping branches. As she turned the corner, she ran into the bum I now knew so well. Oh yes, another queue. Three families waited ahead of us, staring forwards so as to avoid the inevitable headache caused by the insufferable flashing lights.

I tried to contain my rage, pretending to marvel at the lopsided stuffed penguins inexplicably floating on a Christmas tree, and the terrible poetry dotted around the path. Ebony started to cry again, expressing the emotions I know without doubt everyone in the grotto was feeling.

Just a few painfully long minutes later and we were at the front of the queue, standing awkwardly alongside an elf who had clearly spent all day surrounded by underwhelmed adults and hungry children. All of a sudden, the door opened, and we were able to take our first steps towards the great man himself.

As I turned the corner, I saw Santa sat in a comfy chair, between a beautifully decorated tree, and a crate of gifts. It looked wonderful, and for a split second, it seemed like it had all been worth it. The toddler saw it too, only to her it was terrifying, and she realised that it had all been a huge mistake.

Santa greeted her with a friendly smile which immediately plunged Ebony into a deep and unforgiving terror that she was simply unable to drag herself out of. Santa tried, he really did, but Ebony would not tell him what she wanted for Christmas because she was too busy recoiling from his sparkling eyes.

Eventually picking up on the strength of Ebony’s complete and utter hate for him, Santa quickly whipped out a gift, which Ebony begrudgingly accepted. Mistakenly believing this was his in, Santa suggested a quick photo. I was almost knocked to the ground by the sheer force at which my now sobbing toddler hurled herself into my arms. We quickly fled the grotto as Ebony screamed, "NO PHOTO!" in the face of Santa's incredibly apologetic elf assistant. And then we were out in the cold once again. Less than three minutes after we stepped foot into the grotto, but a whole hour and thirty minutes after we first foolishly wandered into that queue.

The only silver lining to this wasted expanse of time in my life, is that I can pretend the reason she didn't get a pet reindeer for Christmas, is because Santa didn't know she wanted one.

Tuesday, 2 December 2014

Living Arrows: The Past Few Weeks



48/52
It's so close to the end of the year now, I thought I'd better catch up again before it's too late. This photograph was taken on Sunday, during a trip to The Lowry. We took Ebony to see Match, a play inspired by The Little Match Girl, a book we love. Ebony really enjoyed the play, and the huge Christmas tree in The Lowry, and the wide open space outside. We met my parents for dinner after, and whilst we were waiting for them to arrive, Ebony ran round at full speed, Mr Teddy Bear in hand



47/52
For the past couple of weeks, we have been spending the last hour of the day together making Christmas crafts in the conservatory. This is partly because our house is beyond cold, and the conservatory has its own heater which soon warms the room. And partly because Ebony loves arts and crafts and is so pleased to finally have a room she can make mess in. We made Christmas cards, and she spent hours totally fixated on it. We're now decorating baubles, and have a few more Christmas activities lined up to keep us entertained before the big day.



46/52
We're still pretty terrible at getting to all of our weekly activities (apart from Pub Tuesday, which we wouldn't miss for the world), but this photo was taken as we made our way to our usual Monday morning haunt. 




45/52
Role play has well and truly taken over my life. Ebony spends most of the day in an imaginary world. Either we're playing shopkeepers, cafes or doctors, or she's chattering away to her toys. It's so lovely to see, and I love hearing the things she comes up with. This photograph was taken during our first game of cafes. I may have been slightly (ahem) overexcited about the fact she was playing vegan cafes, but all the specials were her idea. 

44/52
On Bonfire night we toasted vegan marshmallows on a small barbecue in our back garden, before watching the fireworks. It was such a lovely night, and Ebony loved the marshmallows, obviously, because they are made of sugar. She was wrapped up warm, and spent most of the evening snuggled up on my knee. 



43/52
For Halloween, Ebony dressed up as a witch. Her costume was amazing (thanks, Tesco), and she loved flying around on her broom. Her best friend's lovely (not very) big sister did Ebony's face paint, which Ebony really didn't ever want to have to wash off. There were tears in the bath that night. 
living arrows

Monday, 1 December 2014

Review: Snapfish Christmas Gifts

I am not good at photography, at all. But, I love nothing more than taking photos of Ebony, on the rare occasions when she will allow me to. I got a new lens this year, and it has made taking photos so much easier, I've been surprised at what a difference it makes.

I'm not one of those people who always has a camera with them, I wish I was, but it's big and I mostly can't be bothered carrying it. That said though, I love taking photos and always try to factor in an opportunity to take some photos of Ebony every few weeks. It's always easier when Laurie is around, because he can keep her happily entertained while I snap away. It's either that, or I get a lot of photos of her back while she faces away from me shouting "CHEEEEEEEEEEEEEESE!" 

I try to send my Nanny and Granny updated photos of her every few months, because we don't get to see them that much. When Snapfish offered me the chance to review some of their gift items, I was keen to try them out. I've used them for prints before, but have never ordered gift items from them.

I decided to order a wall calendar for Ebony's Nanna and Grandpa. It took a while to decide which photos to choose, but I'm really happy with the result. It's a big calendar, with plenty of room for writing appointments etc on, and the photo quality is great. I chose the biggest size which costs £19.99. You can add photos in on the date boxes too, meaning I could feature a photo of Ebony with a party hat on for Christmas Day, and her dressed as a witch on Halloween. 

For my Nanny, I ordered a desktop calendar which is much smaller, but will fit neatly on her dressing table or mantelpiece. For this calendar, I chose one big image per month, and really love how it turned out (top photo above). I chose a mix of images, some of Ebony as a baby, and more recent snaps, so it's a really lovely reminder of the past three years. 

With the left over credit, I ordered a Christmas bauble for my parents. It's the sort of thing I would worry about ordering online, because you never quite know how things are going to turn out, but it looks amazing. The decoration is made of porcelain, and just looks so gorgeous. I know it will look right at home on my parents' Christmas tree. 

Snapfish let me choose some products from their range in exchange for an honest review. 

Saturday, 29 November 2014

Homemade Christmas Cards: Toddler Craft





Homemade Christmas cards. I've been waiting for this moment ever since I found out I was pregnant. A tiny pair of glue-covered hands, newspaper stuck to the dining table, a dusting of glitter across the floor, and a pile of imperfect, totally unique Christmas cards. 

I looked for Christmas card ideas last year, but one year olds are so crap at crafts, you have to do basically the entire work yourself. You also have to accept finger-paint covered walls as your new normal, and embrace working alongside a naked artist, which, quite frankly, I wasn't willing to do. 

This year though, at nearly three, Ebony is not only old enough to be (about 87%) trusted around my very white walls, and to wear her own clothes in the presence of glue and glitter, but she also love crafts. She loves nothing more than making a total mess, er, I mean, creating a masterpiece. She would probably spend most of her time painting, if she could. So I knew she would love making her own Christmas cards. 

I already had some blank cards and envelopes, so just needed to get the extras. I ordered the red and green card online, and managed to find some gems too which I thought would be great as baubles. The (very weird) card shop down the road sold glitter glue, and then we had everything we needed.

My mum and dad still have all of the Christmas crafts me and my sister made when we were little, and these are hauled out every year and stuck up around the fireplace. The idea for the cards I made with Ebony came from one of these antique craft pieces which must date back to my nursery days long, long ago. 

We listened to Christmas songs (yeah, it's November. What?), drank hot drinks, and spent two afternoons crafting away at the dining table together. It was lots of fun, and Ebony really enjoyed it. She managed to make over 30 cards, the only problem is I'm now having to beg her to let me have them, because she wants to give each and every one to her friend George. 

Wednesday, 26 November 2014

Review & Giveaway: Hotel Chocolate Festive Wreath



Hotel Chocolat is probably one of my favourite shops to visit in Manchester. On the rare occasions I manage to spend the day shopping, I always make Hotel Chocolat my last port of call. I love that they have vegan options, and that they label them as such (a true rarity amongst chocolate makers these days). I love working my way round the store, trying to decide which chocolates to buy. Marzipan ones, obviously.

Last year, we went to visit some lovely friends in Brighton who very kindly introduced us to Hotel Chocolat’s Buche. If you haven’t had it, please believe me when I say you need it in your life. It is so good, so so good. If we have them in the house, Laurie has to hide them so that I don’t eat them when he’s at work. I’m not proud of that, but it’s true.

When Hotel Chocolat asked whether I would like to review one of their festive wreaths, and have another to give away to a lucky reader, I salivated. And then said yes, of course. Because, really, what sort of vegan turns down free fancy chocolate?!

The wreath arrived in a fancy bag, and was beautifully packaged inside. I think it would make an amazing Christmas present, and is the perfect offering for the host of your Christmas dinner this year.

I really love the wreath design, I think it’s festive but without the novelty value you get with a chocolate santa or reindeer. Not that there’s anything wrong with novelty, especially at Christmas. I was sent the large wreath which feeds nine, and can be bought (here) for £22. That might sound like a lot to spend on chocolate, but believe me when I say it is worth it.

The wreath is made from rich, dark chocolate, and covered in Marcona almonds, roasted Piedmont hazelnuts and South African golden raisins. And it is delicious. I was slightly heart broken to have to cut it up because it’s so pretty, but I very quickly got over this. It is rich and decadent and definitely does not disappoint.

I gave a bit to Ebony who was suspiciously hovering around my elbow, and her humble verdict was that it was “crunchy and delicious”. So, there you go.

Hotel Chocolat have very kindly offered one of their delicious festive wreaths as a prize. To be in with a chance of winning, all you need to do is fill in the Rafflecopter below. Good luck!


Hotel Chocolat sent me the wreath in exchange for an honest review.
OfferOasis.co.uk - Competitions and Freebies in the UK CompetitionsToday.co.uk Win competitions at ThePrizeFinder.com - See more at: http://www.theprizefinder.com/content/hotel-chocolat-festive-wreath#sthash.rpzaa6G0.dpuf

ShareThis

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...