Party season is creeping up on us and here lies a bit of a problem; we’re all dog-tired. Sapped of energy, irritable from lack of light and sporting a to-do list as long as tinsel. And if we’re not present punching online or word-cramming those carols, we’re wincing at last minute recorder recitals, dashing to nativity/gym-displays/ performance assemblies (delete as appropriate) or warding away that pre-festive virus sweeping its way to a house near you…

Yes, we are absolute exhausted. Him, them, me and even our most laidback au pair seems to need some respite from this end of Christmas term mayhem. But we HAVE to party: drinks, nibbles, dinners, brunches…. This is the season to party and appear merry. It’s just a shame I don’t have an invitation to a masked ball, a big grown-up sleepover nor a ‘dress-as-a-zombie’ soiree…

In an effort to at least a little more presentable for Small’s Christmas concert, I made the big mistake of going to the local hairdresser. Of course my tresses look a darn sight better, but those fashion magazines dumped on my lap made me feel even more exhausted. Their glossy hair, clear skin and flat tums all rounded off with those huge whitened smiles…

They do say it takes a village to make these Hollywood glam girls look that good but I’m pretty sure right now I would need the whole of London town.



You can read more musings from Emma at www.lifeofyablon.com.