This is a companion piece to a similarly-themed article on Pete’s site, which, all things being equal, should be published at roughly the same time.

A couple of years ago I resolved to be much better at remembering people’s birthdays. I managed pretty well for the first half of the year, but then it all went a bit wrong. Something to do with having a baby, which took up a lot of my time. Recognising my limitations, I don’t think I resolved anything much for 2007, except perhaps to try to relax a bit more. Now I feel able to get back on the resolution bandwagon, and here are my firm intentions for 2008:

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My dad is known for his creative bent with Amazon wishlists. He uses them as inspiration, but cannot work within their limitations. There are worlds out there! Books and music that we have all clearly forgotten to list! Thank goodness he is swooping in, the superhero of the wishlist, to save us all from our omissions.

Every year, (usually for birthday and Christmas), he manages to get me something I have already got – which is of course the reason why it wasn’t on my wishlist. You see, if I read something and enjoy it, I will list other work by the same author. Dad will then look at the list and think ah, she likes John Irving. But Hotel New Hampshire is not on her list! What an oversight! I will buy it for her for Christmas! And lo! On Christmas Day, I receive a copy of the book that inspired me to list the rest of Irving’s work. He always writes on the flyleaf, rendering the book unreturnable.

This year, he managed a hat trick. Bernard received a copy of The Gruffalo, which is great, because he loves it, and his first copy is like an old dishrag by now. Pete received a copy of Margrave of the Marshes, the book we have both just read for the next NCT Book Group meeting. I was given The Ode Less Travelled by Stephen Fry, which I also received two years ago from my brother. Its main function in my life has been to teach me that I am a terrible poet.

If there is anyone out there who also has a similarly inventive relative, and would like to swap books with me, I have a hardback (flyleaf dedication by my brother) and a paperback (flyleaf dedication by my father). What have you got?

This is a companion piece to a similarly-themed article on Pete’s site, which, all things being equal, should be published at roughly the same time.

For Christmas, I would quite like a stainless steel colander and a stainless steel measuring jug; a moleskine notebook; and lots of books off my wishlist. I would like Bernard to be given lots of things that are not made of plastic and don’t make loud noises. I would like everyone to like the things I have given them, and I would like to have a nap after dinner.

When this post publishes on Christmas Eve, I may or may not be in hospital. No, don’t worry, there’s nothing wrong with me apart from my ability to offer to do things I don’t really want to do. You see, Alice is expecting her second baby (remember, her first is three days younger than Bernard), and although she expects to have dropped it by now, she is booked for a c/section on December 24th. I foolishly said that, when she goes into labour, I will go with her; failing that, Pete and I will look after Stan. Then I realised that we were supposed to be going to Armpit for Christmas, and everything will remain up in the air and stressful until her waters break.

So what I really want for Christmas, is for Buttercup (as we have named the bump) to make an appearance on or only slightly after her due date, so that I can get away in time to be with my own family. As I mentioned, by the time this post is published (because I am getting a few things ticked off my list ahead of time), we will know.

Next week’s Stuntpost will be on the subject of our New Year Resolutions – look out for it on Monday.

Alice’s baby is a couple of days overdue, and if she doesn’t pop tomorrow, then a c/section will be upon her. Pete and I feel terribly guilty for going away for Christmas, having promised to look after Stan and/or act as a birth partner (me, not Pete, for the latter), during The Event. So I have assuaged my guilt with casserole.

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On Wednesday night, we drove to Armpit. We arrived at about 11.30pm, after an uneventful journey, during which Bernard mostly slept, and I mostly listened to my audiobook. On arrival, Bernard was whisked into the brightly-lit sitting room by his over-excited granny, and he didn’t go back to sleep until sometime around 2am.

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