Whose Christmas is this anyway?

Like many people around the world this weekend we ventured into our loft (and hopefully unlike many people around the world also discovered a leaking roof, ah what a great time of year), to recover several boxes of sparkly stuff and adorn our house.

I keep hearing people say that Christmas is for kids. But I love Christmas. And kids get play time, toys, millions of dedicated TV programming time, an almost guaranteed birthday cake and party every year (to which all the guests bring presents) and someone else to cook, clean and earn money for them. Let’s face it, they get it pretty cushy. Grown ups get the crappy end of all of that. Frankly, as adults, we deserve Christmas. So if one more person says to me “Christmas is for kids” I might be inclined to whip them with a clipboard holding my “Reclaim Christmas for All” petition.

So anyway, we got our decorations down from the loft. Our Christmas decorations are pretty much limited to tree (and it’s adornments), one set of Santa lights for the playroom and a tiny glitter Christmas tree I got from the pound shop a few years ago in an effort to spread the Christmas joy to my kitchen, which now sits at a bit of a wonky angle. I do love it when people go absolutely mad with their decorations. We often drive around just to look at folks outdoor displays. I would love to have a house like that but I can’t help but imagine the work (not to mention cash) that goes into creating these masterpieces, so may I take this opportunity to thank those who put in so much effort for the rest of us to enjoy.

When son number one was 2, we didn’t have a tree. Not in a sad way, it was just that we lived in a flat with only one living area and we knew a two year old couldn’t be trusted with one. So I made a tree using sugar paper cut outs of handprints, it still got ripped up but at least I didn’t have to keep redecorating it.

Now we have a house and a sitting room. Note I call it a sitting room, not lounge and not front room, because this is a grown ups room, where no toys are allowed and children only under supervision or permission from adults. We also have another two year old, but we have a nice room in which to keep a tree away from his inquisitive little fingers.

Well that was the plan anyway. We hadn’t even got all of the boxes down from the loft before we had a broken bauble being trodden into the carpet, all the boxes and bags ripped open and tinsel and pinecones spread all around the house. Kids just don’t get the organisation that goes into unpacking and packing up Christmas decorations, least of all a two year old who just sees baubles as sparkly bouncy balls (takes a good few broken ones before they realise that they don’t bounce) and pine cones as a potential food source.

So I was already feeling the pressure and didn’t even attempt to do my usual nice organised tree decorating, with my Now That’s What I Call Christmas CD playing in the background, a cup of tea and a mince pie. I gave the decorating over to son number one (supervised by the man) while I took other son up to bed and away from the chaos.

I came down to find the tree, usually tastefully decorated with just the right mix of traditional and contemporary pieces, positively groaning under the weight of our entire Christmas decoration collection. The man had apparently tried to explain that we don’t usually use ALL the decorations, just some of them, but son number one, in his enthusiasm, could not be restrained.

We also let son number one have an old broken fibre optic tree in his bedroom to decorate and another tiny fibre optic advent tree, which plays very irritating Christmas music, the epitome of tackiness but there is no accounting for taste and he loves it. So the few decorations that had escaped being put on our main tree have ended up on those. And he does love to take all the decorations off and redecorate it, so proud is he of his very own Christmas tree.

OK, maybe my enthusiasm for Christmas decorations is waning some what, and doesn’t have the same vigour as that of a child. But that doesn’t mean it’s not for grown ups. I work hard for my Christmas damn it and I am determined to enjoy the Christmas spirit if it kills me. Maybe we have a few broken baubles and our tree chocolates won’t last the week, but I’m not doing all this work just for the kids. With all the Christmas shopping, cooking, planning and let’s face it, stress, us grown ups need some Christmas joy just to get through it.