With all the commercialism surrounding the forthcoming festivities I find that I need to take the time and remind myself of what it’s really all about. It’s not about getting little one 1D concert tickets like all her friends, or a new pair of lelly kelly school shoes. It’s about the little things, some of which are a token annual event, and some of which come out of nowhere and surprise me.
Christmas songs. I love them. And I have my favourite. Maybe it’s because I like that the radio stations have to decide to play the unedited version and risk the backlash of an unhappy public and ‘that bad language’. Although little one is slowly learning the words to last Christmas and sings ‘special’ in such a special way.
Food. It’s like Christmas gives you a free pass to eat way more than you’d ever think is possible. There’s always room for a second mince pie. Or a handful of celebrations out of the tub.
School plays. I don’t start properly feeling the Christmas spirit until I’ve seen little one in her school play. This year we were treated to a whole school production (a change from the norm) which started with a delightful version of frozens ‘let it go’ cleverly changed to ‘let it snow’.
Craft. Lots of it. Covered in glitter and sent home for our delight. And a calendar that’s been made that is totally unusable and doesn’t fit in with the kitchen colour scheme, but you’re guilted into displaying all year round by those puppy dog eyes.
Mulled cider. This was a new discovery last year, but I do enjoy sitting down in the evening with a lovely warm glass, goblet even, full of it, and feel the warming embrace of sleepiness take over.
Present wrapping. A whole evening is put aside for this task. Sherry is poured. Wrapping is commenced. Husband is shooed away as his ‘help’ is more of a hindrance. Christmas music is played loudly. More sherry. Tricky shaped presents to wrap prove vexing. More sherry. Quality of wrapping deteriorates as volume of sherry consumed increases. Vow to get everyone gift vouchers next year.
Christmas lights. This is a new one. My 18 month old (baby!) takes absolute delight in driving round town when it’s dark and looking at all the lights. The cries of ‘mama, noo (look)’ do draw thin though, as she continues them until I acknowledge the current set of lights she is looking at. As soon as she receives that acknowledgement, immediately there’s a further suprised cry of ‘mama, noo! and amazement that yet another household would don such luminous decorations.
The christingle service. This is a lovely local service on Christmas Eve. We go into church at 4pm, when it’s still light, and when we come out 30 minutes later it’s dark and you head home for a cuppa and a mince pie. The Sunday school perform the nativity, which is a joyful shambles of older kids not wanting to read and be centre stage and younger kids desperately pushing each other out of the way and attempting the loudest ‘baa’ known to man. This year should be especially brilliant, as my 18 month old has the role of 1st lion. Brilliant. And there’s always the sketchy one who tries to set the vicar alight with their christingle ‘accidently’.
Christmas morning. The excitement. The squeals. The delight that Rudolph and Santa enjoyed their snacks. The all morning breakfast that rolls into lunch. The acceptance that ‘mum’s having a sherry’ at 10am. And bless her, little one gets so excitement from each present she has to open it and play with it immediately, meaning that present opening lasts at least until 4pm.
After putting this all down in decidedly feeling more Christmassy already 🙂
Don’t get me wrong. I love Christmas. This is a slight tongue in cheek view of it, aided by a goblet of mulled cider as mentioned above.