'Twas the weekend before Christmas,
And all through the mall,
Was a frenzy of spending
By one and by all.

I feel drained. The five of us have spent the best part of the last two days doing Christmas shopping. Along with the rest of the country, which seems to have collectively woken up and realised this was the last weekend before Christmas.

Pure. Unadulterated. Hell.

Christmas has become more and more complicated over the years since Peter and I married. In the good old days, we only had to buy for each other and for our parents and siblings. Then we went and had kids.

Not just one, or even two, but eventually THREE!

And the siblings went and got married! And had children! Adding more givees to the Christmas equation.

And then our kids became old enough to want to give presents of their own to the above.

Sob.

Fortunately, Peter and his three sisters (and by default we the spouses/partners) decided to impose a R20 spending limit per present. Meaning that each couple had to purchase only R120 worth of presents for siblings and spouses/partners. This turned out to be a financial godsend, even though it was pretty tricky buying R20-something gifts. We went to a home store for this undertaking - trying to find cheap enough presents. At one point in desperation I picked up a pretty pack of paper serviettes. Unfortunately, they were well over the R20 limit. We briefly considered buying a pack and giving everyone a few serviettes each.

Now the girls of course (and Daniel by inclusion) like to give presents to their two parents and two siblings and four grandparents and two cousins (we drew the line at their three aunts and uncles on Peter's side and one uncle and aunt on my side). I made a good little move here by giving Robyn, in the last week of school, enough money to buy eight Christmas presents (two parents, four grandparents, two siblings) from the fund-raising Christmas shop put on at the school. (A group of moms meets weekly throughout the year making gifts from anti-waste and then they sell them at the end of the year to raise funds, and the kids have fun going shopping for their families. I would have joined if it hadn't been a morning thing.) So we managed to squeeze eight presents out of R38 there.

Finally we were on the home straight, bleary-eyed but buying our last few presents. ("How about this! Grabs wildly at nearest UPT. I'm sure she'd like it. Otherwise she can always bring it back and swop it for something else.") What a huge relief not to have to go back. Peter's got a couple of things to pick up still but hopefully Monday will be less hellish than today.

UPT = Useless Pretty Thing.