Since the moment we returned home on the very last day of the holidays we've been dragging our heels against the new year.
We've been cuddling up to the last few days of Christmas and blindly ignoring the January bleakness that's been battering against our windows.
It's been a week of post-Christmas pleasures; cosy fires, twinkly lights; late-night movies; the slow discovery of new toys; late morning-lie ins; big boxes of chocolates, a Downton Abbey catch-up and an obstinate refusal to be drawn back into the predictable routine of term-time.
But last night the tree came down, Christmas was packed away in boxes for yet another year and our denial no longer seemed plausible.
Today, the house feels bigger, darker and drabber and January is tapping at the windows asking us for resolutions, for change, for action.
Our Christmas reprise might have been wonderful, but it's time to face the new year.