the good: Watching Grace place an ornament on the Christmas tree as though she'd been doing it all her life. Going to Dad's place and having a bang up Christmas lunch with roast chicken, ham and all the trimmings. Some really great and thoughtful gifts (and not so many that we're having to re-arrange the house) including a new telly (I so love the new telly, in a completely shallow way). Making calenders from my photos (nervewracking but I'm so glad I did it, it's reallly nice to see my photos printed on posh paper). Christmas morning with Grace, Beach boys Christmas songs and old cartoons, Grace calling the reindeer donkeys. She totally gets the concept of presents now - the big hits were the tool box G made her, the easel from Nana, the kiddy camera from Papa, the fairy skirt from G's folks in Tasmania and the Grover t-shirt from me (meaning she'll wear something other than a singlet, a major victory for sun protection). Grace going to sleep at Papa and Nina's in the big bed in the spare room and not being a Christmas monster. Plum pudding the way my nan used to make it (gosh I guess I'll have to learn one day). Hanging out with the family. Taking photos of my step sister Vivian, And a big dance to Boney M in the loungeroom at the end, with Grace wanting to do hold hands dancing with mummy and shrieking in delight. Yep, all that was really ace.
the bad: Being prescribed an anti-psychotic that was supposed to make me sleep the Thursday before Christmas. My re-action was atypical and I was awake all night and really groggy the next day, actually not just groggy but almost unable to function and having a child to look after, and lacking the judgement to ask for help. Wanting my mania back because then I could do stuff and at least with the sleepers, I got six hours sleep a night. Making a fairy skirt for Grace and receiving one from G's family in Tasmania that Grace opened first (on Christmas Eve) and liked better. Over-reacting. Probably a misunderstanding from when we talked about gifts. It's not like I can remember what I say half the time at the moment. Having to lock myself in the study on Christmas morning to cry because everything was just all too intense. Christmas is not a good time to have a manic episode, my friends. Not being able to drink on Christmas day eventhough I'm still not driving. My Dad had seriously nice drinks, so that sucked. I love getting a bit wobbly at Christmas.
the ugly: Yesterday was the first day I haven't felt like crap in a bag. Boxing Day I felt like I'd been hit over the head several times and there was a pain across the back of the neck that radiated into my right arm. Sewing, computering and much tension held in my neck, is my guess. And I couldn't get the new telly to play dvds in colour. On Thursday, Mum took Grace while G was at work and I bumbled around by myself at home. The morning was fine but in the afternoon I collapsed into a pitiful crying heap. Again. For two hours. Thought I was doomed. At least it all came out.
the good again: Finally figured out dvd in colour. Watching said telly (did I say before how much I lurve the telly?). Friday, Mum came over and we went to the material shop (to touch fabric and get more of some lovely cotton knit I made my Christmas cardy from). I made chicken soup (with the stock from the Christmas roast carcasses) and then while Grace napped, we sat and chatted while I did some mending and light sewing. Maybe I am going to be OK. We talked about planning Christmas so that there's still time for making and doing (even if I'm working). It's going to be much more mellow at this end next year. But lunch at Dad's was great. Like I said in my last post, I am so grateful and love it that my family can do that. I really do.
Today is pretty good too. We've picked a whole heap of apricots and I'm off to jam in the heat. As it should be. Hope your Christmases were all excellent and that the recovery is well under way.