Too many pots boiling at the same time

Or how to avoid total burn out at Christmas

This past week has felt totally overwhelming. I think this is common for many women at this time of year. I know it because I can’t remember everyday names, words, places…my brain simply seizes to function.

Navigating work, parenting, end of year activities at school, social lives, buying presents, feeling not good enough, comparing ourselves to others, and preparing for Christmas… it’s too much.

When I’m overwhelmed I’ve always found it useful to use the analogy of too many pans on the hob.

Stick with me a moment.

Imagine you have one or two pans, and they’re bubbling but you’re sort of okay. You’re listening to the radio and in that mooching mood where life doesn’t seem too hard. You listen to some woman on the radio who has dressed her dog as a Christmas pudding and you laugh and think how cute that is. Then add another pan, and the first bubbles over, and the water goes all over the floor and burns your big toe. Life’s not so sweet. The woman is actually fucking annoying - who dresses a dog up like that? Get a life! Add a fourth and you scald your wrist because you’re trying to turn the hob down and accidentally knock water over yourself. You want to kill that dog. Who needs those dogs! Crapping all over the town. Leaving those long, thin, steamy lines of yellow pee on the pavement.

You start feeling like you can’t cope. There are now four pans boiling all at the same time and the scalding water is tipping all over the place.

For me if I’m ‘boiling’ at work (i.e. it’s a very tough week ), then I have to put the parenting pan on ‘simmer’. Also the friendship pan too. This means I’m doing basic parenting- keeping them washed, fed and listening to some of their junk. It’s like ‘doggy paddle’ so I’m not trying to prove how great a parent I am or read any books about it. It’s survival. With my friends I’m sending them a cat giphy or leaving them a voice message that they won’t listen to but not much more.

I’m not even picking up that saucepan which has relationship in there. That’s just resting in the cupboard thanks.

That is chiefly grunting as we pass on the stairs.

Sometimes though there are things that happen that mean all the pans are boiling at the same time. So a high profile project, a sick kid, a friend’s birthday, messy house…then it only takes one thing to go wrong and it’s an all out FIRE IN THE HOUSE. One trigger is the local WhatsApp group or the school one. I rage at those motherfuckers who want to know where the school jumper has gone. I want to beat down their door. I want to poke holes in their eyes.

That’s my signal to calmly go and look at the hob. Sure enough- too many pans and I need to pop one in the cupboard to rest for a bit or at least let it simmer.

Christmas is not good for those of us who like to have one or two saucepans at the same time. This is because on top of working, looking after kids, looking like Jennifer Lopez and having sex like Jennifer Lopez (she looks like she is good at it), we are also expected to have this thing called ‘CHRISTMAS’ which means more socialising, more stuff to buy, more food to prepare, more gifts to wrap. Also more looking like Jennfer Lopez but actually now she is going to a film premiere in Cannes and so needs to have heels and a beaded ballgown on. She needs to also have that perfect glow and not look like Skeletor’s sad sister.

And this entire season is dumped at women’s door. ‘Here you go ladies! Here is Christmas and it’s time to prove that you can also be nice wives on top of all that ‘nailing it’ at work shit. You have to really get the showy clowns out and showcase your table decorating skills. Mulled wine made? Got your glow on? Why do you look so goddamn sad? It’s Christmas!’ And we are already pooped you see, and just want to lie face down in a nice warm cloud of nothing to do, and not have to speak to anyone.

We just want to take a large Valium and listen to Harry Styles for two weeks.

Is that too much to ask for?

Yes it is because the saucepans have all gone up full blast, the water is boiling and the door bell is ringing because your Amazon deliveries are coming, but you’re not in so you’ve missed it, because you were at the Christmas fair paying 20 quid to see some reindeer, and the parcel has gone to your neighbour but it was left outside so it’s actually been stolen. So you have to try and reach out to Amazon and get that shit fixed or you won’t be able to dream up that perfect artichoke candle holder that you saw on Instagram yesterday.

This wave is coming out of nowhere, pulling you under, you can hardly breathe. Your words come out wrong, too fast, like gibberish.

AM I LOSING MY MARBLES?

Come here my dear friend. I am here for it. All the Christmas shit. All the pans with the hot water. I am here and I am taking this one and this one and tipping the water down the drain. I am also putting them into this cupboard which I just cleaned with nice cleaning products that won’t fuck up the environment. Take this cup of tea from my hand. I made you a minced pie. I know you hate them but this time eat it for me please. You are too pale. Rest in that chair and listen to that Christmas song. The one that gives you a lump in your throat because it reminds you when life was full of hope.

Now let’s see, let’s actually see what is going on right now. Who in this family is fed? Who is dressed? What is necessary? What is just balls?

Have I told you you are the best woman I’ve ever met. I mean it. I love you.