Sloe gin poured and cheesy carols blaring out, I sit and begin to wrap the Christmas presents.
I’m such a creature of habit, and I swear that if I couldn’t find the ghastly scratched old cd of ‘ Xmas faves of 1988’ I couldn’t begin this ritual.
It’s all helped today because the winter sun is beaming through the window and I’ve convinced myself I saw a Robin hopping about (might be a crow actually – but I’m intent on setting the correct scene!).
Over the years I’ve bought hundreds of presents for my family . Some for their stockings and some for under the tree, and it’s just struck me how different everything is now, and how their gifts reflect that.
I used to buy fake spiders and whoopee cushions – black soap and a plastic ( frighteningly realistic) dog poo which got my aging aunt every time – much to my kid’s amusement!
You could not fit another Barbie or Ken or any of their much needed pink accessories – dart board, skateboard – or mountain bikes in the house. Play stations took over from that – and then we went onto the much heftier cars and horses!
I realise now that I used to moan quite a bit back then about how tired I was and how much effort I had put in, and how lovely it would be if somebody just put the kettle on without it being SUCH a deal!
Needless to say, I was ignored and all went on happily with me pouring myself a G&T instead…SO much better for you than all that caffeine!
Now of course with everyone older – grown up actually ( breaks my heart writing that ) I am becoming less expectant and more grateful.
I know they have other places they could go for the holidays, boyfriends and girlfriends parents maybe, where they would probably have an equally good time – but out of a sense of loyalty they always come back home to me – clearly convincing their ( possibly reluctant partners ) that they have to or else I will put a curse on them… wish I knew how to do that, it would come in terribly handy sometimes!
They now rock up with beautifully wrapped thoughtful gifts; No more foul smelling bath stuff from Woolworth, or jewelry that I would wear over lunch until the reaction to the metal would make my ears drop off.
Now it’s ‘ an experience gift ‘ like a wonderful weekend away, or beautiful clothes, handbags, or the blue Pashley bike – that I took out, fell off, and now rests safely in the barn!
This, of course, all makes me happy and grateful – but I must admit to harking back to the old days and memories with affection. Maybe it’s because I loved being the mummy and in control of everything.
ANYWAY; Life goes on and it’s just different but better.
I have just re-read the above and although I agree with it all still – I’ve decided that memories are good – happy ones especially – but all the new stuff coming in is perfect too.
Within a few years, I guess I will be sitting on a sofa on Christmas day with a glass of something fab in my hand – instead of on my knees with my head in the Aga wondering if I put the Turkey in early enough! And I admit to be rather looking forward to it!