Monday, 1 December 2014

Tis my season

to be a grumpy old woman. I genuinely love Christmas but Christ on a bike, do I yearn for the day when Christmas can be done how I would like to do it.

Where I can have a real tree and  not the tree of the glorious childhood days, which cannot be changed, not even one bloomin ornament, it has to be the same tree and decorations we have had for 22 years now. I would like to change the colour of the ornaments, I have wanted to change them for many years. It causes my 2 younger children unhappiness to have a change so I persist in the same gold theme. I can't wait for the day when either The Beautiful Son or Beautiful Baby Daughter have their own house and I can bequeath them the tree of the glorious childhood and I can be shot of the damn thing. God forbid, I should go mad and have a real tree and a non gold theme. The world would most probably end.

Where I can eat what I like and when I like it, champagne and toblerones mainly.

When I don't have to shop for thoughtful presents & wrap them beautifully. Even since my children were small, my parents have opted out of Xmas shopping by giving me cash and getting me to buy thoughtful gifts for their grandchildren, so they're retired and have tons of free time, I am working and doing everyone else's presents, Aunties have also adopted this tactic by citing the "oh as you live so far away, posting things is so difficult, let me give you the cash and you buy and wrap, so the children get a good present" argument. It sucks big time, when do I get to bung £20 in a card and be done with it?

 When I don't spend most of December buying enough food to feed a small African nation and enough wine to keep Bacchus happy, having grown up children has added a not inconsiderable amount of how much it costs to have them home for Christmas. Add to that, the constant cooking (okay, heating up) for them too. And add in parents who eat meat & 2 veg every day, we are almost exclusively vegetarian, a plate of pasta wouldn't be something they would eat. My mum in particular can't cope with any kind of flavour.  I am looking forward to the 12 days of parents mightily, can you tell? Gaah.

When I don't have to provide Christmas stockings with each thing individually wrapped in different paper to the paper we wrap the presents under the tree in (as Santa wouldn't have the same paper as me), where I don't have to leave Santa and the reindeers a snack and make a glitter footprint and hoof print on the hall carpet. For the love of God, you are nearly 23, 19 and a half and 18 now. Apparently I can stop the stockings when they are parents themselves. Enough already.

When I could be abroad, somewhere warm. Again, the world would end if I wasn't at home during the festivities, I have to be here as I have to make the Christmas magic happen.

I yearn for a festive season, which took up a day of my time in prep max and a relaxed Christmas day, maybe just me and my lovely husband relaxing, eating, drinking and looking at a real tree that isn't festooned in gold.