Weaving my way through motherhood whilst trying not to mess up adulthood.

Short Story:Home For Christmas

 A week had passed, a week that felt like a life sentence, a week filled with uncertainty, tense phone calls and promises likely to be broken. On the day that John called, Theresa felt sad and helpless, helpless that she couldn’t help, helpless that she couldn’t make it all better.

John’s wife had taken ill with a virus which left her weak and lethargic and John not knowing whether she would be well enough to travel.
Sitting on the edge of her bed, Theresa slips her feet into her slippers and takes a glance at the clock. The digital device read: 06:30, six thirty on Christmas day.

It had been many years since tiny limbs clambered onto the bed with fingers sticky from eating chocolate reaching into stockings to pull out the presents from Santa. Now, the house seems empty, so quiet as she pads down the stairs to a kitchen waiting to be filled with the rich smells of turkey whilst the jolly mix of Christmas carols and modern pop play on the radio.

She hadn’t heard from John in a few days and with everyone adjusting to the news that he wouldn’t be joining them after all, she didn’t want to upset her son even more by continually asking if there was a chance they could all fly over when his wife was so unwell. Turning on the oven, Theresa set it to preheat before grabbing the sack of potatoes from the cupboard and beginning the tedious task of potato peeling.

By the time, the old clock in the living room chimed for twelve in the afternoon; Martha and Rebecca, alongside their husbands and children had all arrived at Theresa’s. The children excited gave quick hugs to their grandmother before heading straight towards the tree to see what goodies they had received. Martha heads straight for the processco whilst Rebecca keeps busy with setting the table ready for the Christmas lunch.

“Any news from John?” Martha asks, opening a chocolate coin from her stocking.

Theresa shakes her head, draws in a deep breath stopping the tears she’d been fighting back all morning from dropping onto her cheeks. She was determined to keep strong for her children and grandchildren’s sake. Of course, she missed John and wanted nothing more than for him to be there opening presents, winding up his sisters and bonding with his brother in laws, nieces and nephews. But she had to be thankful for the family she had around her.

The meal, a choice of two meats with all the trimmings followed by Christmas pudding all got eaten before the Queen’s speech. Now everyone lay slumped on the sofa, full with good food and drink whilst a selection box gets passed round the living room. The doorbell rings just as the Queen finales her well wishes for the forth coming year, not one for unexpected visitors, Theresa lets Martha get the door.

“Mum?” She calls from the hall way, “There is someone at the door for you.”
Feeling confused, Theresa puts her glass of sherry on the coffee table and stands, joining a crying Martha at the front door which had been left ajar.

“Martha, why are you crying?” Theresa asks

The front door opens and standing on the doorstep is John, his wife and daughter smiling broadly and holding suitcases and giftbags. Theresa’s cry of excitement gets everyone from the living room into the hall way to see what all the fuss and commotion is about.

Holding his arms out wide towards his mother, Theresa runs into them, squeezing her son tightly into her chest.

“John, I didn’t think you would make it, “Theresa whispers, wiping tears from her face.
John kisses his mother’s cheeks, “Merry Christmas Mum.”

Short Story Sunday-Coming Home for Christmas

Theresa hangs the last stocking above the fireplace then stands back to admire her work. Not only was the mantel piece adorned with Christmas trinkets, the entire sitting room twinkled with festive lights, tinsel and an animated father Christmas figurine that rocked back and forth whilst chanting ‘ho  ho ho’ at the click of a button. The stockings, although thread bare and faded in colour, still held on tightly to the embroidered names etched onto the front. Rebecca-Martha-John.

Theresa kneeling on the carpet, cleans up the glitter from the baubles and loose ribbon left over from her box of decorations. Placing a wooden figurine into the box, an envelope catches her eye.  Sitting back on her heels, she reads the front, ‘To Santa’ and inside in clumsily scrawled lettering, she reads a hand-written thank you letter from a then five-year-old John, thanking Santa for his brand-new bicycle. Theresa smiles and holds the letter to her chest before deciding to leave it on the mantel piece to show to her youngest on his return from abroad.

This Christmas is a special one for Theresa and her family. Having lost her husband the year before and with John living in another country with his wife and new-born, she was looking forward to meeting her granddaughter for the first time and having all her children at home for Christmas.

“Helloooo? Mum?” A voice calls from the hallway.

“Hello darling, come through, I’m in the living room.” The front door closes and Rebecca walks in holding two gift bags.

“Hiya mum, just dropping off some gifts.”

“Thank you, do you know what time your sister will join us on Christmas day?”

Rebecca kneels besides the Christmas tree to place her gifts neatly beneath the tree, she too feels excited for the festive season where she will wake at the crack of dawn to unwrap presents with her two children before enjoying a breakfast of salmon filled bagels and bucks fizz and then a Christmas lunch at her mother’s surrounded by her nieces, nephews and siblings.

“She’s coming just before 11. She’s stressing out because she hasn’t brought a single present yet!”
Theresa laughs, her middle daughter has always been the one to leave things until the last minute, whether it be homework rushed the night before its due in or leaving a church full of eager guests waiting for forty five minutes on her wedding day; so it didn’t surprise her that a week before Christmas Martha was feeling the pressure. Although her children were now grown up with families of their own, Theresa looked forward to filling their stockings with socks and oranges and watching them bicker over a game of monopoly as the grandchildren played with empty boxes and ate too many mini chocolates. 

The phone rings just as Theresa puts the last box away, she answers on the fourth ring, her face lighting up as the caller greets her. Looking up at her mother, Rebecca watches as Theresa’s bottom lip begins to quiver and her brown eyes fill with tears. The words she tries to say get muddled between sobs and gasps as she tries to hold in the tears that roll down her cheeks. The phone conversation ends and Theresa takes the nearest seat, her daughter joins her on the sofa taking her into an embrace.

“Mum, what’s the matter?” 

“It’s…it’s…John. He won’t be home for Christmas.”

To be continued

How to: Fuss Free Everyday Mum Makeup

Alarm is set from the night before, uniforms ironed, school shoes lined up and waiting by the door.
This means that in the morning, there will be no rush or panic to get ready but instead a smooth transaction from bed to school....


School runs don't always go to plan, and some days as you rush out the door with barely a scrap of makeup on as you rush to make it to the school gates on time. However, there are some days when the makeup fairies are on your side, wishing you luck and cheering you on big time. And on days like that you don't go all Hollywood glamour just a bit more 'put together and on track'.

So after cleansing my face, I will moisturise and then apply my foundation- I use the true match l'oreal foundation for everyday use as it's light and gives great coverage without looking like I'm ready to hit the town in high heels and a sparkly top.

Now, I LOVE watching makeup tutorials on Youtube and can easily waste hours just watching and feeling inspired but there is no way at eight in the morning am I gonna roast, bake and toast my face. There is absolutely no need, there is also no need for chiseled cheekbones and noses so slender, little one could hope on and just slide to school.

So that step is skipped and instead, I just powder, using my Ben Nye translucent powder which is fab for keeping everything in place and also reducing shine as I hate my skin looking oily or shiny, matte all the way.

Eyeshadow like fake eyelashes are optional, I like to use a browney copper shade from an old sleek palette. Once that's applied and all blended in then I apply eyeliner.

Eyeliner is babes.
liquid, gel or pencil I love it all and a tip I use to keep mine on all day is to apply the pencil on first then I go over it with a liquid liner keeping my liner in place for the rest of the day.

My new makeup bag from emj is great for keeping my everyday makeup essentials in one place whilst still keeping me trendy. I am not one to retouch my base makeup once I have applied in the morning as that can often leave you looking like cake batter has been smeared onto your face come six pm. Powder on the nose is fine, just not the whole foundation and concealer. Oh, which reminds me that  I forget to mention concealer. I rarely use it so on the school run it wouldn't be my go-to product.

Once my eyeliner has been flicked I move on to my brows. When I was younger they were so thin naturally and I would make them even thinner by plucking all the stray hairs( thinking back- there must have been none) Now I try to make them look as thick as possible without creating a monobrow.
I use a powder to fill my brows in and sometimes a pencil if I want to be really precise and sharp.

Now, eyelashes will depend on the time and this has only been a recent thing as usually I have individual lashes on so would not normally have to bother anyway. But as I am naked eyed at the moment I usually reach for my Nouveau lashes in style 2.

That is it! quick clock check-apply a bit of bronzer then head out the door and of course, your favourite lipstick or lip gloss.

Quick, simple and fuss free.

What are your fuss free everyday makeup tips?


Jade Priscilla
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