On Wednesday Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern nearly broke Secret Santa.
Ardern tweeted she had signed up for Secret Santa on Tuesday and by noon the next day, organisers reported a deluge of others signing up — up 41 per cent to a record high of more than 3500.
They issued a public warning that only one person would get to be Ardern's Secret Santa and only one person would get Ardern as their Secret Santa.
In both cases, neither side would know about it if the rules were adhered to. The message was everybody had to follow through on their commitment to Secret Santa, even if they drew Colin the butcher from Oamaru rather than Ardern.
Suddenly, Secret Santa was like the golden ticket in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory although the rewards were more negligible.
Such is the lingering stardust as Ardern marks her first month in the role.
Ardern was sworn in as Prime Minister on October 26, a few days after NZ First leader Winston Peters stood on a podium in the Beehive Theatrette and announced to the nation he had chosen change — he had picked Labour.
At the same time, Ardern was with partner Clarke Gayford and her staff in the Opposition headquarters nervously waiting to hear if she would be PM.
In that month, her travels have taken her from meeting US President Donald Trump in Vietnam to hugging Lorde at the NZ Music Awards.
She has been praised for delivering hope and drawn dire predictions of doomsday for the economy.
There have been brickbats and bouquets — and there will be plenty more with another 72 days to deliver her First 100 Days Plan.
After Peters' announcement, Ardern's first job was to appoint her new ministers.
She was still relying on Little's former staff for the campaign, but as soon as she became PM she started to draft in some of former Prime Minister Helen Clark's staff to help set up her office — the formidable Heather Simpson and former press secretary Gordon Jon Thompson.
Leaving them to recruit the new administration, Ardern jetted off to Australia.
In her first (so far only) speech in Parliament, Ardern promised "a new beginning". Labour would be "the people's Government".
But the first day of Parliament was not quite the day of glory Ardern hoped for.
The National Party forced Labour into a backdown on the issue of places on select committees by threatening to stand a candidate against Trevor Mallard for Speaker.
Ardern treated Parliament to the "death stare", glaring across the Chamber at National's Simon Bridges as she lectured on the need for constructive engagement by an unrepentant Opposition.
It's a fair bet some of her own team copped the same death stare after the confusion around a shemozzle even Chris Hipkins, the Leader of the House, later described as "not a good look" for the new Government.
Ardern moved on to criticise the Opposition's record of nine years in Government, saying it could harp on about its gains all it wanted.
"I would simply remind them that in defending their record they must also defend record homelessness, they must also defend dirty rivers and lakes, they must also defend inequality and, yes, child poverty.
"So by all means defend the record of the last nine years while we get on with fixing it."
Fixing it is rarely as easy as it sounds.
The first significant issue Ardern faced was not child poverty, dirty rivers or homelessness but rather New Zealand's relationship with Australia and the fate of 600 asylum seekers and refugees on Manus Island.
Ardern raised their plight with Australia's Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull on a brief three-hour visit to Sydney on her 10th day in office.
At that same meeting she reiterated her intention to retaliate if Australia went ahead with its plans to charge New Zealand students the same fees as international students.
A week after she was sworn in, Ardern was listed at 38 in Forbes' Most Influential Women list. Forbes spoke of her "having risen to power on a tide of Jacindamania", her promise for an "empathetic" Government and her commitment to tackle climate change and eradicate child poverty.
It ended: "In her spare time, she likes to DJ."
Alas, Ardern soon found Turnbull did not seem to read Forbes and was oblivious to her influence.
He did not budge on the Manus Island refugees or the tertiary education. He did, however, know about the DJ bit — quipping he had once rapped on television.
Soon after Parliament opened, Ardern jetted off to Vietnam on the Air Force Boeing for the Apec Summit.
The day before she left, her cat Paddles died.
At Apec, Japan's Prime Minister Shinzo Abe endeared himself to her by passing on his condolences.
Ardern had left New Zealand with further calls for her to grab a "Tampa moment" ringing in her ears, with requests that she force Australia into letting New Zealand take some Manus Island refugees.
There was also the last flurry of negotiations around the TPP to contend with — and the risk New Zealand would scupper it by re-litigating to suit Labour's demands.
In the end, Ardern showed that for all the talk of vision and ideals she, too, had a pragmatic streak for matters important to New Zealand.
She announced Labour would sign up for the TransPacific Partnership.
It was the first big shift in Labour's position she had negotiated — and she copped criticism at home from those groups vehemently opposed to the agreement.
But Ardern pleased some of those who had been most sceptical about her leadership — the farmers and business.
The Manus Island issue turned out to be harder to navigate.
The initial bonhomie and jokes about fishing and feijoas in Sydney evaporated by the time Ardern met Turnbull again in Vietnam for Apec.
Former PM John Key recalled Australia's then PM Kevin Rudd taking him under his wing and introducing him to others, but Turnbull didn't do the same for Ardern.
Ardern was still pushing for the 150 refugees. Turnbull was still trying to ignore it — and eventually trying to ignore Ardern, treating her somewhat like an annoying mosquito.
There was suspicion in New Zealand that Australia was trying to heavy the country into submission when intelligence reports were leaked to Australian media of four boatloads of asylum seekers stopped on the way to New Zealand.
But it was also the first chance to see Ardern and Peters working side by side.
Standing together, you could not imagine two different people.
But from the looks of it, they got on well.
Ardern's approach was to simply ignore the fact Peters had just launched legal action against former ministers, a government department chief executive and two journalists over the leak of his superannuation overpayments.
When they returned to Parliament, Ardern and Peters sat side by side there for the first time. They giggled together throughout Question Time and even rolled their eyes at each other when Speaker Trevor Mallard reprimanded Ardern for an interjection.
Ardern also got some international attention.
The election made her the youngest female leader in the world. That saw her interviewed by CNN's Christiane Amanpour and profiled by Time magazine.
There was also more unusual coverage — before she became PM the Wall Street Journal likened her to US President Donald Trump. After her election, a column in the Washington Post spoke of New Zealand being captured by the Far Right (Winston Peters).
Then came a Forbes' commentator saying New Zealand would enter a recession under Ardern's Labour and warning investors to stay away.
While Trump was this week pardoning a turkey in the White House, Ardern had returned to New Zealand to find she, too, had to pardon a few turkeys.
They included Stuart Nash, for his over-exuberance on the subject of an extra 1800 police and charging GST on international purchases and Kelvin Davis, who had struggled as her fill-in.
Davis got an immediate pardon — she declared his shortcomings were not so great and simply the result of "judginess" by commentators.
Other ministers hit the ground running, forging on with the 100 days pledges. Notable examples were her predecessor Andrew Little and David Parker.
Ardern's first month has not all been plain sailing.
She campaigned on a promise of hope and change, but it did not take long before she came up against the struggle of adjusting the expectations she had seeded during the campaign to suit reality.
There was the newly named Comprehensive and Progressive TransPacific Partnership (CP TPP), which Labour had opposed, and the promise to re-enter the Pike River Mine — downgraded to a re-entry only if a further safety assessment deemed it safe.
There was dilution of policies such as abolishing national standards and repealing the Hobbit law — which has now become amending the Hobbit law.
There also emerged the first tricky head-to-head between NZ First and the Greens, in their dispute over the Waka Jumping Bill.
Nor did Ardern manage to stick to her vow to be relentlessly positive. She learned the perils of gossip about things that happened backstage in the imbroglio over Trump possibly mistaking her for Trudeau's wife.
But on Wednesday there was an excited throng when Ardern went to sell icecream and strawberries for the Mary Potter Hospice.
Commentators who dared criticise her and journalists who interviewed her too aggressively were roundly abused on Twitter.
She is also happily doing the same frivolous commercial radio John Key excelled at to Labour's disgust.
She was on NewstalkZB talking about how happy Christmas made her. A photo of "mutual fan girls" Lorde and Ardern hugging went viral.
She got a rapturous welcome at the Screen Production Development Association.
When it comes to those whose opinions count the most — the voters — there is no sign that Ardern is not enjoying a happy honeymoon.
Where's Winston Peters?
One of the more peculiar fates of a Foreign Minister is to act as a Prime Minister's hand maiden on overseas trips.
The job is to be seen but not heard. Former Prime Minister John Key used to joke Foreign Minister Murray McCully was "in his role as eye candy" when Key fronted media with McCully at his shoulder.
There was wall-to-wall coverage of Peters in that long month between the election and forming a government, but since then Peters has all but disappeared.
The only sightings, until this week, were at Ardern's shoulder as her eye candy in Asia. The "be seen but not heard rule" undoubtedly suited Peters, fed up after the post-election scrutiny.
He left the country before his lawyers served papers on those he suspected of involvement in leaking his superannuation overpayment issues, so missed much of the initial heat of that.
Peters proved an important accessory for Ardern — he has experience in the role and Ardern does not have the personal relationships Key built up over the past nine years.
In fact, Peters' interactions with the US may end up being more important than those of Ardern. He had two meetings with US Secretary of State Rex Tillerson over matters ranging from North Korea to Myanmar.
Meanwhile, Ardern's interactions with Trump amounted to possibly being mistaken for Trudeau's wife and her "people didn't march when I was elected" retort to Trump's goads about her election.
Peters was back on home soil this week and once again speaking in the media.
It took the resignation of Robert Mugabe in Zimbabwe to break his vow of silence.
Despite speculation Peters will be dispatched to North Korea to single-handedly halt its nuclear weapon programme, his next international deployment is understood to be to the hot spot of Rarotonga in January — to attend Shane Jones' wedding rather than sorting world peace.