The January Blues. Especially for my purse.

So, it's January. It's now the 11th, and Christmas is a distant memory in pretty much all ways, except for the finances. Now, one good thing is, we didn't pay Santa by Visa this year, but we are still repairing the slash in the bank account. Being skint is one thing, but with all the good spirit and all-round happiness that Christmas brings, everyone feels inevitably flat in the post Christmas period. Which, if the weather is particularly bad, can last until the summer in my experience.

As always, we start the year intending to be more frugal. (Teamed with the intention of being wholesome and honest people, good parents and the like, I wonder if we are aiming for Saint-like status). And the intention of being more frugal is, to be honest, more by force than by choice. But, I'm determined to embrace it. The washing is still up to date and not being tumble dried. Even if my house looks like a veritable chinese laundry. It does not lie in the machine for days until it smells funky, thus needing rewashed. I reckon this alone has cut the washing liquid consumption by two thirds. We do at least have a useable garden this year so when (or should I say IF) the weather improves I will be regularly stood in the garden like the lady from the comfort fabric softner advert, with a wide grin and flowers in my hair and my perfect, clean and contented children playing happily around me. And of course I'll be skinny by then.

You also know it's January when you are consuming all the the UFOs in your home. I'm sure every home has a number of these - Unidentified Freezer Objects. You take them out and defrost with extreme care, checking for any signs they are off as the ice starts to melt so that you can get them the hell out of your kitchen should the start to emit any foul odours. Once it is defrosted, you can try to decide whether it's pork, chicken or beef. I usually go for shoving it in a curry sauce, which tends to hide a multitude of sins. Then shove fish fingers and smiley faces in the oven for the children.

You also find yourself lying to your children more. Knowing full well they don't like pork, but that is what the latest UFO turns out to be, my approach is to chop it up small, breadcrumb it, then tell them it's chicken. When they complain, I remind them of all the starving children in the world who have nothing. So soak it up, smile and enjoy your tea, mummy worked hard to cook if for you.

I'm also finding that the cost of diesel is now encouraging me to walk more. Which in turn, should help with fighting the flab. See there are benefits to this. However, while Ruby seems to enjoy her view of the world from her carrier on my front, Ryan is another kettle of fish. He does tend to complain a lot at the prospect of walking, and when half way back from the school he often declares he is just not doing it, which presents a bit of a problem when I can't actually carry him. While the other parents are still trudging past on their way home, I try to smile sweetly and talk gently, posing as the patient and loving mother that I aspire to be, give it another 5 mins and I'm hissing unreasonable ultimatums (like no telly for the rest of his life, yeah like I could carry that through and NEVER get any peace) through gritted teeth and walking away cursing and muttering while he stands there and screams at the top of his lungs.

I also decided to try saving my tea bags and make more than one cup from each having never tried this before. I got googling and discovered it was actually quite a common practice, with some claiming to be able to use for 5 mugs of tea. This trial lasted one day. I don't know if I drink my tea particularly strong in order to achieve the maximum caffeine hit, but on the second use, the tea still look pathetically pale after a good 5 minutes soak. Patience has never been my strong point, so I gave up on that pretty quick smart.

Time for a cuppa, all this talk of tea has made me feel pretty parched!