Some days I breeze effortlessly through life. Other days I do not. Sometimes I don’t know what it is I find so hard about living. This morning, I heard about a woman who – only two generations ago – endured 23 pregnancies, two of which were two months apart and which ended with a baby being delivered solo-style on the kitchen floor.
After I heard this, I decided to keep quiet and just get on with things. Just between you and me though, I suspect this woman – though capable and strong and dripping with the amount of children she was – must definitely not have had the amount of admin I do. After a couple of kids, surely they can all start raising themselves. Paperwork, though? I am certain that if she had the amount of paperwork I’ve got going on, she would have turned pale and fainted in defeat as well.
Anyway, I don’t know how it happens but we are totally off topic. Tonight, we’re talking Christmas.
This year, I became a mum. Even as I write that sentence, I still get a bit confused. Anyway, it’s true, and because of this peculiar fact, Christmas this year feels a little different.
Usually, I make it to Christmas day exhausted and edgy and quite nearly hating people because honestly, the crowds. They kill me. I spend so much of December zipping through, finding the perfect presents for all those in my life and yes, I get excited, but too-much-caffeine excited, instead of warm-tea-and-honey excited. It’s a frantic feeling, and it’s not particularly pleasant. Christmas, I’ve decided, should be about slowing down and sinking in and loving hard, instead of cursing each other in shopping lines and buying the things that the catalogues tell us too. Which I so don’t do, you guys, I’ve just heard that it can happen.
This year, I want Christmas to feel like this little red tent of ours- where we retreat and refuel and reconnect and all remember to be grateful for the love and friendship we have in our unbelievably blessed lives. I want Christmas to mark my little family’s traditions. I want to soak in all the people I love this season with cute little family things we do. Which brings me to my next point. We have no traditions. Zip. Joel and Ella and I are starting out fresh as a teeny tiny family so I’ve never really thought about Christmas before. In the past, I’ve just rocked up and gotten fed and swapped a few presents and played a few games. All the planning and build up and festive thought has been someone else’s job. But this year, I’m a mum, and I’m trying hard to be a proper one. You know, in one of those families. I want to begin traditions that will mark a special-ness my little family shares in all the years to come. I want carols playing while we (try to) bake cookies. I want our closest friends over when we put up our tree (or spray painted branches, like last year). I would, however, still be thrilled if a parcel just happened to arrive which was ordered from Etsy, like, the other day and which Joel has “bought me” as a Christmas present. Just a quick note you guys: Etsy is a DANGEROUS place. One that should never be visited alone.
Anyway the point is this: I need your help. I need you to tell me your traditions – your most favourite and cherished things you do at Christmas – so I can write them all down and weave them into traditions of my own. Joel will most likely not be impressed when I thrust the list in front of him and shriek, “Look! Look at the traditions we are starting!”, but I’m pretty sure he’ll grow to love them. I’m pretty sure he’s starting to not ask questions any more. I’m pretty sure he’s learning just to run with it.
So, share. Please share.