New(ish) mum Samantha Dooey-Miles is charting her life in doodles. This week, she’s taking the pressure off Christmas.

Last Christmas I gave you my heart. No, that’s not right. Last Christmas I sobbed once the baby was down because I found the whole day so hard.

It was my first Christmas as a mother. A special outfit for Iona to wear to commemorate the occasion was purchased. I counted down the days, sure Christmas would regain the magic which had faded as an adult because I now had a child to share it with.

The magic never came. Instead, I spent a huge part of it in a separate room from my family, the baby’s festive attire smeared in shit which took an eternity to clean while she screamed and screamed.

doodlebug christmas treeFor good measure I kept myself locked away while I breastfed: despite my family never saying a bloody word about it, I was self-conscious getting a boob out in front of my 80-year-old granny.

At no point in the day did I sit on my arse gorging on After Eights and discussing how good the Queen’s skin is or any of the other frivolous activity I associate with Christmas.

To top it off, did I mention I was still hormonal? I think that’s important to explain how I ended up crying in full view of my sister (who does not cope well with crying) and my husband – because I felt like I hadn’t had a Christmas.

This week I just want my fellow parents to know: Christmas is great and all, but it is OK if it’s not the most special day of your year. You can have yours when the kids have a lie-in in April, or when your parents give you a night off in June instead.

See Samanthas previous doodles here.


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Written by Samantha Dooey-Miles

Sam is a first-time mum doodling and blogging her way through teething, nappies and the constant struggle of never quite being sure whether she lives in Essex or London. Find her blog at anewessexgirl.com.