The new house is a roaring success; D has been giving cute (if repetitive) tours, Bronte has a catflap and very little in the way of feline competition, Benn has the neutral decor (Fifty Shades of Beige) he’s always dreamed of and I have a room I can hide in when my Location, Location, Location rage hits peak boiling point (I’m actually in there now, scheduling this.)
Anyway. The house is lovely and we’re settling in well. We’re settling in so well, in fact, that I’ve done something a bit daft. Not only have I planned to host a children’s party the day before Halloween for D’s birthday, but I’ve also repeatedly said that we’re even doing Christmas this year. No, I haven’t been transformed by the fairy godmother of social activities. I actually WANT to see people on a regular basis. We’ve had visitors on most of the days we’ve not been at work- and I’ve liked it.
I’d always planned that D would have his birthday party here, as we have much more room now. Also, I realised that over the summer holidays, he’d spent most of his time with adults. As I don’t want him to grow up to be totally weird, I’m orchestrating as many playdates (ugh) as I can for him. Plus I’ll have an excuse to eat as many party sausage rolls as I want.
The fact that I’ve planned major social events AND been actively inviting people into my house is a major turnaround for me. I like keeping my house pretty separate from everything else, but this house is so warm and welcoming, it makes sense to use its space to see friends. However, I’m sure that this too will pass and before long I’m realising I’m a) actually terribly anti-social; b) skint; c) I’m a terrible hostess once we’ve established you like tea and are in awe of the fact I have a whole tea cupboard.
Also- when do I start making Christmas cake?!