2020 marks a new year, new opportunities, new goals! and also the fact you just had nearly 5 weeks solid of your children hyped up on advent calendar chocolate by 9am and made it out the other side a mere 3 stone heavier.

Before kids, Christmas was spent mostly horizontal on the sofa watching Love Actually eating my body weight in celebrations and vintage cheese. Prosecco was the only thing I would drink for a solid 4 days and I would spend more time perfectly wrapping my presents with colour coordinated ribbon then you would think possible.

Fast forward 3 years and Christmas is a blur of mini screwdrivers, wrestling presents not meant for your children from their screaming grasp and redecorating the tree 100 bloody times a day because baubles are like crack cocaine to toddlers. Gone are the restful naps on the sofa and the 6 tubs of chocs with your name on. Now you’re sneaking a shitty bounty out the kitchen cupboard at 11pm because you couldn’t possibly pop the lid within 17 yards of your sniffer dog offspring.

Presents also seem to become shitter. Why does raising kids suddenly mean I’m into kitchen appliances or biographies of historical women? Spoiler alert, IM NOT! Right now is the time I could do with the fancy new perfume or Superdrug smelly gift set to mask my 3 day ‘haven’t had time to shower’ aroma.

You must also adopt this sympathetic face when your child opens a present, announces its crap and then tosses it to the floor. Watching your relatives expression completely melt with disappointment whilst you shove it back into their hands and loudly say ‘ISNT THIS FANTASTIC, WHAT A FABULOUS GIFT…’ will never not be horrendously uncomfortable. Curse children and their heartbreaking honesty. You also have to find an extra 17 smq in your house to dedicate to the kids new toys, the ones they want to keep anyway. How do you politely tell someone ‘thank you’ for the 4ft rocking horse (with extremely loud sound effects) but unfortunately they can shove it up their arse? Oh look a drum kit! THANK YOU!! That’s fun-fucking-tastic.

Of course it’s absolutely magical to watch your kids open their presents and play with your family and be blown away at the thought of Father Christmas, but I can’t help but think there should be an adult only Christmas Day on the 27th or something with kegs of booze in every room, rom coms on every TV and your parents there to wait on you hand and foot for 24 hours like the good old days. Think it’ll catch on?