This is my first artificial Christmas tree - and I love it! | Cheryl Gibbs

To be fair, you’d be forgiven for thinking I’m obsessed about a lot of things because I do have a bit of an addictive personality.

I just love the festive holidays and, of course, this year is even more special because it will be our first with our daughter Harley who is now 10 months old!

I also love traditions and I just love things to be the same, which is why since I left home at 22, I’ve still insisted on getting a gigantic real tree because that’s what we had growing up. It hasn’t mattered whether we’ve lived in a top floor flat in North End, a terraced house in Copnor or a bungalow in Clanfield, we lug a real tree anywhere (Okay, well, Matt lugs it but I choose it and I do insist that it’s a biggie).

My dad used to say growing up I was never happy unless we couldn’t get it through the door frame and quite frankly not a lot has changed.

However this year and because of having a crawling baby who is into absolutely everything we’ve opted for an artificial one – my first – and I admit I blooming love it!

I’m disappointed in myself for admitting it because I’ve always flown the flag for real trees (spruces are my favourite).

But when my auntie and uncle said last year that they were getting rid of theirs (you know, during a time when you could actually see aunts and uncles – remember that?), I thought I best be sensible this year with a baby.

I have to say I love how perfect the shape is, how the decorations look and I think I’m a bit obsessed with it – see? Addictive personality. I’ve bought more decorations than one tree needs, I’ve colour matched it red and gold and I just love it.

Perhaps I’ll start a new tradition with an artificial one? I feel guilty even thinking about it, but perhaps 2020 is the year for a change. It certainly hasn’t been like any other year, so maybe now’s the time for new?

I ran for longer because of that backhanded compliment

I was on our running machine when our postie, who is a lovely lady, congratulated me on working out.

We got talking (very difficult when you’re trying to jog and talk, but I gave it my best) and I was telling her how I’m still trying to lose the baby weight, to which she pointed out that apparently it takes most people two years.

I said to her I have about a stone and a half to go to which she gasped, looked me up and down and said ‘you don’t look that big’. Perhaps I should be pleased, but it was the word ‘that’ in the sentence that was a little, well, disappointing. I know I don’t look ‘that big’ but to be honest I don’t really want to look big at all – I did an extra five minutes that day.

I claimed I made them, but really it was from M&S…

Every year I’m tasked with making the desserts for Christmas Day.

While I didn’t do too bad last year and actually made a homemade mince pie crumble, the year before I was a bit naughty and bought some from the shops (M&S, so don’t judge me entirely). But I tried to get away with it by transferring the desserts to trays at home so it looked like I had made them.

Everyone was astounded by my baking skills but I felt bad and told them what I had done (well, weeks later when they were still saying how good it was) and I’ve never lived it down.

However this year, with a baby and all, time is sacred so I’m contemplating doing it again. But is that just totally awful?