This week kicks off Family week at WeLoveYA. I’ll start with giving mine a big plug, my wonderful children and husband support my desire to write, and usually give me plenty of time to edit as well. So I must publicly thank them for that.
Christmas to me is about being with my family, spending time together. Unfortunately both of my parents have passed away and so it’s just my little family together this christmas. I remember Christmases of my childhood, when Grandma and all the aunts and uncles and cousins and great aunts/uncles would all gather around. Kids running out in the backyard, sweltering hot Christmas days, Boxing Day cricket matches at the beach. Good times. I think most of my favourite memories are of family, togetherness.
So in that light, I’ve written a little reminder to myself of what’s important, the past few weeks have been a bit of a strain around my house:
When you put up your Christmas tree, decorate it with symmetrical exquisitry, and then the kids come along behind you and trash the said wonderfully decorated tree… that’s okay.
When you put up your exquisite tree, decorate it, the kids come along and trash it, and then fell the tree four or five times pretending to be lumberjacks… that’s okay.
When you put up your tree, the kids trash it and then fell it pretending to be lumberjacks and then eat the said decorations… That’s okay.
When you put up your tree, it gets trashed then felled, and decorations are eaten and then the kids are too excited to make it to the toilet and the presents get showered upon… that’s okay.
When the tree’s been trashed, felled, showered upon, a sweet little face offers you a biscuit, that’s soggy, then you discover it’s been dipped in the toilet bowl, but that’s not the worst, another child forgot to flush… that’s okay.
When the tree’s been trashed, felled, showered upon, a sweet little face offers you a toilet biscuit, and you ask another child to put the plum pudding on to boil, but you forgot to tell them exact instructions and you end up with plum pudding soup… that’s okay.
When the tree’s been trashed, felled, showered upon, a sweet little face offers you a toilet biscuit, you end up with plum pudding soup, so you send your partner out to go find another plum pudding when all the shops are closed and use the stipulation ‘don’t come home without one’, and your husband returns ragged and empty handed… that’s okay.
A time to forgive and be thankful because it could always be worse.