That is me this year. I am feeling like a big old selfish cow-bag.
I love Christmas. I adore it. It has always been one of my favorite times of year. In years past I have got so very excited about buying just exactly the right thing for everyone and have scoured every shop in existence, I have got carried away and ended up spending far too much because I keep spotting the 'perfect' gift so someone gets three, I have spent hours handcrafting beautiful personal items for loved ones as well as handmade cards for my whole address book.
If truth be told I prefer giving presents to getting them. With the exception of some wonderful things a couple of people who know me really well have given me, I always find that the gifts I am given are not really as exciting as the buzz I get from getting it just right when I present my carefully chosen item. I am a giver, what can I say.
Well, that is until this year. This year I don't think I am a giver at all. I am utterly uninspired. I am not feeling the love or the urge to give.
I don't know if it is because all my energy is being drained by the infertility pit, or if I have pulled the covers so far over my head I am in a totally self-involved place but I am just feeling so grinchy. Although that is not entirely true. I am sort of enjoying the Christmas build up, it is just every time I try to get some Christmas shopping done I end up just buying things for me to 'cheer myself up' (or things for future Moon babies). I just don't feel very givey. I don't feel like I have anything to give.
We are on an economy drive anyway and my plan was to make gifts for everyone. Guess how far I have got with that so far... nowhere. I have done the grand total of nothing. Good grief I feel so useless. I am hoping that during the next few days I can summon up a little Christmassy giving spirit and get going on my festive preparations.
In other news, Remus has the norovirus. Lucky boy. So I have morphed from patient to nurse. I think we are better at it the other way around. He is a terrible patient because he refuses to actually give in and BE poorly. He just came out of the bathroom after heaving his guts out and said to me, 'I need some lunch, and then I have to walk the dog...' I have put him to bed with a cup of hot water at his side instead, that seemed to me to be a better idea. Men are so silly. I am not a very patient nurse like he is, more of a pushy matron.
Poor pups has the shortest end of the stick. I am still not feeling 100% so it is a short walk for her today.