Hilariously Correct Things List Mums Do to Make for Christmas

December is a shitstorm. A merry, bright, festive shitstorm. But still, a shitstorm.

The kids are home for the majority of it – and bored. There are heaps of end-of-year parties, work is extra crazy and, of course, it’s Christmas. Which means I’ve got about 8 gazillion extra things to do in the lead-up to Christmas to ensure everyone has a magical day filled with sunshine and rainbows and hard-to-find talking unicorns that poop out glitter.

Mums are the magical festive fairies behind pretty much the entire Christmas set-up. Sure, dads sometimes help, but usually, it’s us mums that are making the lists, checking them twice and running braless up the road to catch the postie before he drops off another parcel for the kids to see and rip open before the big magical day.

So, without further ado, I present to you just a random list of all the magical jobs mums take on over the Christmas season. Sure, you may not do ALL these things, and you may even do more, but I’m sure you can relate.

Ready for it? Buckle up and grab a drink. You’ll need one.

I Don’T Think I Can Do This Sober GIFfrom A Bad Moms Christmas GIFs

✅ Organise teacher gifts. And daycare teacher gifts of course. Possibly gifts for school officers too.

✅ Buy Christmas cards and candy canes for the kids to give to each child in their class. Watch them get the shits with writing each name after only three cards. Take over and curse yourself for suggesting such a stupid activity. Cut your tongue on an envelope.

✅ Make December 1st boxes. Regret it immediately.

✅ Request your kids write letters to Santa. Regret that immediately too. Why does every child want an iPhone???

✅ Make a detailed spreadsheet (colour-coded) of all the gifts each child will be receiving, including the price to ensure everything is completely even. Update spreadsheet 107 times in three days and give up.

✅ Shop for seriously every single person you have ever met. Ever. Not really, but it feels like that. Age about 25 years in the process.

✅ Order toys on Layby. Stand in line at Layby. Pick up toys on Layby. Wonder through the shop and see the toys you bought on Lauby for 10% cheaper. Curse your life and keep going cause #toohardbasket.

✅ Purchase a work secret Santa gift last minute.

✅ Organise babysitters for the kids while you go to your work party. Forget you’re a mum for five hours and then spend the rest of the weekend regretting every single second of those five glorious hours.

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✅ Lug the Christmas decorations out of the attic. Chase off cockroaches.

✅ Fluff your tree for a week and a half.

✅ Develop an eye twitch as your children completely butcher your tree decorating system. Redo it once they’ve gone to bed.

✅ Watch the cat ruin it for everyone.

✅ Purchase matching pajamas for the entire family and attempt to get a photo in front of the Christmas tree.

✅ Drag the family to see Santa at your local shop. Traumatise your toddler in the process.

✅ Watch Christmas movies, sing Christmas carols, and attend Christmas concerts.

✅ Spend $35 on fuel to drive around looking at other people’s Christmas lights. Listen to your children complain that “our house is boring”.

✅ Attempt to set up your own Christmas lights and nearly fall off the roof. Accept Christmas lights are not happening.

✅ Instead, set up Christmas crafts and activities to keep the kids occupied while you attempt to work from home. Regret that one immediately too.

✅ Burn the shit outta Christmas cookies and watch your children spill M&Ms all over the floor.

✅ Attempt a Gingerbread house instead. Eat the icing and bin the rest.

✅ Down a whole bottle of wine.

✅ Watch your front door obsessively for the postie to deliver the parcel that’s been promised is arriving today. Find a card stuck in your mailbox. Curse your life again.

✅ Stand in line at the post office for seven days.

✅ Once all the gifts have arrived, lock yourself in a room and wrap eight million things. Attempt to colour-code the wrapping paper before giving up on that ridiculously ambitious idea.

✅ Hide the presents. Then rehid them 15 more times because kids are terrible.

✅ Listen to your husband ask, “Have we got all the shopping sorted yet?”.

✅ Plan, shop and prep for Christmas lunch. Spend hours perfecting the menu and pot luck. Ask everyone to bring a specific dish. End up with 3 green salads and 5 pavlovas.

✅ Return to the shops because you forgot the bloody Christmas Crackers and already drank the Christmas lunch champagne. Repeat several times.

✅ Clean the house. Repeat for infinity.

✅ Organise Christmas Eve Activities – More matching PJs! Make hot chocolate with marshmallows and actually feel relaxed for like 17 seconds.

✅ Eat a carrot.

✅ Down a bucket load of coffee and start the Christmas Eve madness which may or may not include setting up a trampoline in the backyard at 2am.

✅ Crawl into bed at dawn and wait for it all to happen.

And then, just like that. It’s Christmas. And they are tearing into your room. No time to put on makeup.

The tornado of wrapping paper. The coffee that you make that you don’t even get a chance to drink. The madness of the morning sprawled across your living room, a month of shopping, wrapping, and strategic gift placing, destroyed in a matter of minutes.

The thank yous, the jumping up and down, the hugs. Family arrives with more warm hugs and cold salads. Champagne at 10am, followed by indulgent food and the search for double A batteries. And, for a split second, you stop and take it all in.

The magic of it all.

Stop. Breath. Take it in.

And, when you do, remember this: You made this happen. The gifts, the tree, the traditions, the burned cookies. You, festive fairy mum, YOU DID IT ALL. For them, of course.

You, mum, are the magic of Christmas. And, although they may not say it or give you credit for it (Santa does it, after all,) trust me, they will remember it forever.