Christmas and the Toddler

With a toddler, Christmas becomes (even) more exciting or perhaps more worrisome?

As one of my favorite holidays, it’s certainly exciting. The tree, the decorations, the fairy lights – all will prove to be an enjoyable (and dare I mention possibly expensive) time ahead.

And even though the Christmas season is not quite with us, I’ve so far noted the following things…

• Santa exists. Especially when you feed the line of “let’s get rid of some of your toys so Santa can consider leaving you a new one, maybe two.” The response? “Okay!”
• Invariably the introduction of the jolly Saint Nick leads to the repetition of; “so Santa will come to my house?” and “Santa leave me presents?” every few hours.
• Ideas on how to get on the ‘Nice List’ can come from films. Inspired by Arthur Christmas I said to the little miss, “see how the elves scan to see if the child is good, well, that’s what will happen come Christmas Eve.” It was only afterwards did I wonder if she would become freaked out by a bunch of small people with weird ears rolling into the bedroom armed with scanners. Ah well…

How the myth continues: I’m either a genius or very good at being deceptive…

• Whilst out and about the other day, I noticed some Christmas wrapping paper and so did the little miss. I asked her “which one do you like? Frozen or Minions?” “hmm, Frozen. I love Frozen.” “Okay, I’ll let Santa know so he can wrap your presents in it.” (I'm going with genius.)

From my withering on about the fat (sorry, weight challenged) bloke in the red and white suit and how I'll let him know what's going on, I'm certainly giving the impression that I have a direct hotline to the man. Not a bad idea I suppose. I'm just wondering what will be my bargaining chip come December 26th!

Oh and a final point...erm, teach (your) toddler the CORRECT words for Christmas songs. I'm regretting singing "Jingle Bells, Santa smells, Rudolph did a pooh...!" Whilst we had a real belly laugh over it, she is now repeating the lines rather a lot. Thankfully, her pronunciation isn't great...

Christmas Cards Galore

I just read an article in The Times (London edition) - "All I want for Christmas is a card or two" by Carol Midgley. It detailed her "suffering from the seasonal afflication known as the 'Why have I received so few Christmas cards and does it mean everybody hates me?'" - although she doesn't send out that many herself, but that's not her point, it's still great to receive them.

And, I completely sympathize with Carol. This year, I decided to make my cards, so created a list of people to send them to. A list I make every year and to which Hubby asks - why not keep that list and save yourself some time next year? A valid point perhaps, but my list does change. After all, people leave his office or someone I sent one to this year may well annoy me and therefore find themselves removed from said list for next Christmas. Yes, I know, a little Ebenezer of me...

But lately, over the last few years, I've made the list with a slightly heavy heart. Will I get any cards this year?  The numbers have dwindled. As Carol rightly points out, people are less and less inclined to send out cards. Be they environmentalist - save a tree, don't send a card or consider it a lengthy process - buy the card, find the address, sign card, get stamp, post card...it's a lot of hard work.

I firmly believe that receiving a card at Christmas makes a person know that they are special, that you're thinking of them. That in an 'e' driven world, a tangible item such as a card means so much more. And despite knowing that I'll get a few e-cards (not everyone has my mailing address), I do so cherish the posted ones regardless of who sent them....I was both pleased and slightly horrified that I received a card from my local curry house one year..

So I sent out about 50 cards to those for whom I have an address and hung my ribbon (above picture is representative of my display) in anticipation that in a few weeks leading up to this wonderful holiday, I will be filled with cards of all shapes and sizes from family and friends wishing Hubby and I a joyous (US) Christmas. To date I only have 17 cards displayed but there's still one more week to go...maybe I should have left my forwarding address to The Sitar?..

Bah Humbug!

Forgive me my American friends and family but Thanksgiving isn't my thing. I appreciate the sentiment and I'm certainly thankful for a lot of things. But, as the cold winds set in, the days draw darker, it's Christmas that I'm looking forward to.

Oh yes, the snow in the air, the smell of cinnamon, hands cupped around a hot cup of peppermint cocoa, sparkly red and green garlands hanging in shop windows, Christmas trees twinkling in living rooms. Such a magical time. And of course, the myriad of productions of A Christmas Carol. Over the years I've seen practically all of these versions of this classic tale which is no doubt one of the most interpreted of Dickens' stories. My all time favorite version is with Patrick Stewart - a sumptuous production so brilliantly told. There have been a few that I'm not adverse to such as the musical portrayals (with Kelsey Grammer as Scrooge) and even the animated versions are not too bad; although I was dubious about Jim Carrey playing an English octogenarian, but he did a good job.

Despite seeing so many versions, I'm ashamed to admit, that I've never actually read the story. So this is the year that I sit down with a cup of cocoa and read A Christmas Carol. I'm sure that I will conjure up images of all the films I've seen, and I hope that the films have stayed true to the words. I find that books never translate to the screen very well. So, I popped along to the bookstore and purchased a copy at the bargain price of $10. And now that I have it, I'm sure it will become a tradition to read it in the days leading up to Christmas Day.

"I have endeavoured in this Ghostly little book, to raise the Ghost of an Idea, which shall not put my readers out of humour with themselves, with each other, with the season, or with me. May it haunt their house pleasantly, and no one wish to lay it."

Charles Dickens, December 1843