I've noticed in the past that doctors' surgeries have a tendency to be surprisingly quiet on Christmas Eve. This is by no means an invariable rule – last year, for example, was a major exception – but it was exactly what happened this year. I went into work braced for a day of hell after some of the busy days I've been having lately, and found my appointment list bearing an astonishing resemblance to the Marie Celeste. Presumably everyone's too busy doing their Christmas shopping. The Wednesday after the long weekend will no doubt make up for it in spades, not to mention New Year's Eve, both of which I am unfortunately working; but this morning, at least, I got to enjoy hours of blissful peace disturbed only by the occasional briefly passing patient. It was a lovely chance to relax and catch up on some of my eternal Journal Backlog, after the frantic rush that has been the past week or so. (What in holy hell happened to my determined plan to follow the Flylady Cruising Through The Holidays plan and be in a state of blissful organisation by this point? Next year, next year, I swear it…)
Barry's family have made it safe and sound despite the enormously heavy snowfall we had earlier in the week (it's now starting to melt, but we'll still get to enjoy that rarity in our country, a white Christmas). The children have been (finally) settled to bed, after a pre-bedtime trip downstairs to open one present each – the Lego annual for Jamie and, for Katie, an enchanting little book from 1940s' America called 'Blueberries for Sal'. Barry came upstairs to read Katie her new book while I snuggled up with Jamie on the top bunk and he played with the Lego numerals on the front of the annual. Jamie fell asleep quickly (once I'd hauled Katie out of the top bunk and off him and plonked her down in the cot instead), but Katie took longer to settle – however, she's now snuggled up asleep as well and we have a brief breathing space before they start tearing into things tomorrow. And I can look forward to a long weekend of new books, unlimited chocolatey things, and in-laws around to help with the children. Who could ask for more?
Good Enough Mum 