I can't really remember any of my childhood Christmas's all that well. I remember my older sister making me grope around for presents in our parents dark wardrobe. I felt something soft, fluffy and with a plastic nose.
That was the year she got a large stuffed Basset-hound toy. I also remember the year I pestered my parents for a pair of skates, that they couldn't afford. Christmas morning I woke up to a pair of gleaming white skates with red wheels. I also remember the year I finally got my very own bike and not my brothers hand-me-down. It was a pink mountain bike. I remember the year I decided to make a baked Alaska and it turned out to be the hottest day in the history of our time. I had my Mum helping me shape the meringue into a snowy mountain, so we could quickly whip it in the oven before the ice cream melted everywhere! We were in fits of laughter as I yelled "GO! GO! GO!" like a commando squat team leader. One year we were renting a house that had a pool and so as luck would have it, it turned out to be the coldest, rainest Christmas in the history of our time. It didn't stop us kids from plunging into the pool though. That is the best Christmas I remember with my brother and sisters. It was 1992. (My anger towards my siblings now is an entirely new blog in itself)
I remember that we were a poor family with three kids, and yet my parents always managed to get us that one gift we'd all been dying to receive that year. And it wasn't until I was a parent (single mum) myself that I realised just how much my parents sacrificed for us kids. I went through my childhood not even knowing that we were poor. We were always fed, happy, and with a roof over our heads. But as I got older and understood the value of money, I realised that my parents did everything they could to provide us with a happy and safe home. Even if it meant that they went without some things. These days kids learn about the value of money earlier I guess. If my son wants something he saves and saves his pocket money for it.
This is the first year that I will be spending Christmas without my parents. They are retired now and are traveling around Australia. I was really disappointed when they said that they wouldn't be back for Christmas. It's hit me a bit hard (especially after our recent tragedy) just how much I miss them and how special every Christmas with them was. But they are living their dream and I would not begrudge them for that.
So I am spending Christmas with my husbands family this year. Which is nice.
But just not the same.
|This is my tree. In a red, green and white theme this year. Yeah I'm a little crazed when it comes to decorating and the whole present matching thing.|