IT'S beginning to look a lot like Christmas.
At our house it is, anyway.
After spending the weekend nagging my kids to do the usual clean-up routine, with the usual minimal response, they sprang into action when I asked them to do one last job.
"Get the Christmas box out, we can put the Christmas tree up."
I've never seen them work so hard.
They assembled the tree then decorated the whole room.
In fact, they tinselled the entire house.
Even the mailbox got a make-over.
So while that part is done, early, if you go by December 1 tradition, under the tree is still bare.
I haven't even started to make my Christmas list, let alone checked it twice.
Everywhere I look now I see reminders I have a lot of work to do.
It is my own fault I wasn't organised earlier, because I think the worst part of Christmas is the shopping.
Don't get me wrong.
I love shopping as much as the next girl.
I just hate shopping at the same time as hundreds of other people.
Retails stores use the follow the leader theory.
It is human nature if a place is crowded, others will go in to see what is so interesting.
If the place is empty, people will walk past.
Some shop owners employ a number of juniors to work in their stores which gives the idea of a busy store.
Show me a busy store and I'll be shopping elsewhere.
I was in Melbourne one year on Boxing Day and my experience with those sales was to walk into a department store, see the cash-register line-up already miles long, and just walk right on out again.
I'm still in recovery from that experience.
So it might be time to let my fingers do the walking and my keyboard do the talking, and join the online shopping brigade.
But even those I can get onto without crashing (clickfrenzy anyone?), they are already telling me I need to buy now, so items arrive in time for Christmas.
I've just had a knock at the bathroom door with an obviously important question from the kids.
Why else would they interrupt me mid-shower if it wasn't urgent.
"How many days till Santa comes?" was the question yelled through the door.
Super Mum with Sharyn O'Neill