The past couple of weeks have been so hectic that while I have Christmas on my mind, there hasn’t really been time to relax and enjoy any festive spirit(s).
We’re still living out of suitcases at my parents’ house but all things being well, will move in to our new home at the weekend (and quickly adorn it with holly and baubles and put Bublé on loud and repeat).
Curtains have been hung, sofas have been delivered, all that awaits is the delivery of our worldly belongings from Switzerland and we’ll quickly follow that up with a trip to the supermarket to fill our bare fridge and cupboards (with boxes and boxes of chocolate oranges – ’tis the season).
If you’re a dedicated follower of the Beckhams or a regular reader of Grazia, you may have heard about the new kid on the block when it comes to cool kids’ accessories, Beatrix New York. The New York based brand dedicated to creating contemporary but whimsical products for children has a fan base that includes the likes of Halle Berry, Katie Holmes, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Meg Ryan, and most importantly, me. Put simply, I love Beatrix New York. Their products are the best around.
What is it about Christmas that makes even the most craft-averse parent conjure up images of shop-window worthy gifts made by the tiny hands of their offspring? Not forgetting the melodious hum of carols in the background while these items of genius are made. Throw in a mince pie or two for crafting sustenance and shared smiles of joy at the thought of happy tears rolling down Grandma’s face at receiving such a thoughtful and artistic creation and there’s a Hollywood-made Christmas film for you, right there.
I’ve never been a fan of the Christmas cracker. Bah humbug, I know. I simply fail to get enthusiastic about unfunny jokes and melt-on-your-head paper hats. And from the cheapest to the most expensive, the gifts are mostly rubbish and rarely wanted (apart from the Fortune Teller Fish – amusing even though have a 100 percent record of being fickle).
This year, despite moving countries, moving houses and losing my mind, I’ve decided to fill my own crackers (when you’re already hugely busy, why not add another task or two to your never-ending to-do list? – idiot).
When I was younger, I loved waking up on Christmas morning. Opening one eye and squinting in the semi-darkness to see if I could make out a stocking shape at the end of my bed. Wriggling down, still under the covers, and reaching out with my toes to feel for that extra weight on top of the blanket.
He’s been! Father Christmas has been!
I really loved (really, REALLY loved) having a Christmas stocking and if I stay at my mum and dad’s house on Christmas Eve, I still get one. Full of little treats, it feels like there’s no need for additional presents.