Christmas Wrap-Up

And ultimately, this is what it is all reduced to. No, no, no, I refuse to be cynical!

There are all the piles of lovely loot to be considered; and smiling faces; and sizzling turkey; and damage to our paving stones as my DIY hating husband attempts to construct the freestanding basketball backboard which comes flat packed and with the exhortation that you will need two capable adults to erect said implement of parental torture. (Do you know how loud a basketball bouncing on pavers just outside your kitchen window can be??)

So are you sitting comfortably? Then we'll begin. Let's start with Christmas Eve.
First, the traditional 'write a letter to Santa and put it with your stocking before going to bed' ritual. Here we have the BA, (casual teenage pose), and Small Boy (with the haircut from hell...what was his mother thinking???) posing with their respective letters and stockings. The letters are worth a closer look. Or not. Should have used a macro setting.





Anyway, Small Boy virtually put himself to bed with eagerness. Prayers were specifically requested for the ability to get to sleep quickly. As usual, he was out within minutes of us leaving the room. How does he do that??? The BA lies awake for ages!!

Next, Himself stayed home whilst Grandma, BA and I went to Midnight Service (very pretty, all done in half light and candles so snoozing was totally possible) and then home to bed around
1 am. Some of you may know I foolishly stayed up blogging and fuming over my husband's Bah Humbug nature but also chatting with No2 son who is always up at 3 in the morning as he does not work (spoken through gritted teeth). The net result was that I did not get to bed until after 4am and with a sizeable helping of champagne under my belt.

Fast forward 3 hours. We are awakened by a gentle knocking on the door. Small Boy greets us with "It's after 7 on the clock, just like you said!!!" And we were up and running.

First job is the reading of letters from Santa. Father Christmas as you know, reads each child's letter and replies individually with references to the child's growth, increased helping round the house powers, achievements through the year and other messages of pride. These letters are kept, along with the child's original letter, in a special Santa file for bringing out on important occasions such as weddings and 21st birthdays. (My dad actually did this to my sister!!)

Last year, the BA's first 'reality' Christmas, she resisted writing the letter. It was quite sad actually. There was a real resentment of the years of belief and the let-down, I guess. Anyway, I can't remember what I said to her, maybe that I wrote Santa letters until I was 18, but she wrote the most remarkable and heartfelt letter of all time and included a CD with instructions to read the letter whilst listening to a particular track. It was 'Hallelujah'.

This year she was full of 'nudge nudge wink wink' and wrote a happy if brief letter. I think she quite enjoyed Small Boy's excitement. He had written that he hoped Santa had had a 'flabbergasting year'. Santa replied by saying 'thank you for the wonderful letter...I am flabbergasted!!!!' Small Boy was delighted.

Next, the orgy of present discovery. And unwrapping.Followed by the ritual of father attempting to put together new presents. (BA's dad laughed when he heard about this over the phone! He sympathised with Himself but assured him that all over Australia, fathers were doing exactly the same thing and using similar expletives!!)

We did a bit of interim kitchen work at this stage as we waited for the older boys to a) arrive and b) wake up which they eventually did. In the next phase of present opening (these are now all the under the tree presents) the BA discovered her present from her Dad. A new Canon A550 PAS. Curses. She was over the moon. The big boys were pleased with their customary presents of socks and boxers (thank you step mother... father never thinks of these things) and No2 was over the moon as he received new sailing items for the upcoming trip to the National Competition (they left the next day).

When Mum and Dad arrived, we were into the unwrapping AGAIN!!!!!!! Small Boy was, as is often the case, obsessed with the $2.00 present Grandma had bought as a stocking stuffer (as if these kids didn't have bulimic stockings as it was!). The BA shot this footage on her new camera.




So, all in all, our family did exceptionally well for Christmas. The big boys were particularly pleased by Grandma's clever choice of T Shirts with slogans. (The one on the left was taken by the BA and says 'ask me how I tolerate stupid questions.' It is just about the most perfect T Shirt for No2 Son...ever!!!)

But as the preparations for lunch moved into full swing, my late night began to catch up with me. Actually, it reeeeeaally began to catch up. At one point I felt like I was going to keel over. I dashed off for a 'power nap' which I was sure would sort me out. After a 20 min snooze I dragged myself to the table and toyed with my food, feeling quite ill. After lunch we farewelled the big boys over to their other Grandma's and I went back to bed. I was beginning to ache in every joint and feel hot and cold in rapid succession.


Three hours later I emerged, mainly because I knew Mum and Dad were still there and because it was Christmas after all and I was missing it. I was still aching and had that nasty buzzy feeling all over like there are ants crawling just under your skin. After farewelling Mum and Dad and suggesting no one came near me, I collapsed on the sofa and took my temperature. It was 39C

Now there are many theories as to why I contracted a nasty, fevery virus on Christmas Day. I think it was just bad luck and after all , No 2 Son had had it during the week. Popular opinion however is that all my 'burning the candle at both ends' had finally caught up with me and the opportunistic virus had attacked my exhausted immune system with glee.

'That will teach you', seemed to be the message from all and sundry. *sigh*

Just to be safe however, I slept on the sofa to ensure that Himself would not contract the bug as he was leaving the next morning for an 8 hour drive to Melbourne and sailing glory (hem hem).
I think I woke up at around 3am with a sense that the fever had broken but feeling like I had been run over by a truck.

Boxing Day saw me farewelling Himself and No2 Son (crew) at 7am for their 9 day trip. The last time they went to the Nationals, I went with them but as my sister and Brother-in-Law arrive on Friday from the UK, I elected to stay home this time. The rest of Boxing day was spent in and out of bed. Mostly in. I got to read a lot of my new Harry Potter book and the BA brought me a peanut butter sandwich surrounded by strawberries when my appetite started to return mid afternoon.

Mum and Dad came up at 4.30pm and played scrabble with BA until I woke up at 7pm when Mum made us all dinner. (Thank you Mum you are an angel) By this time I was ravenous and well on the way to full recovery. The BA and I hit the sack at 10pm and I slept through until 8am. Today I feel pretty much fully recovered but mother is exhorting (there's that word again) me to 'take it easy'. I am inclined to oblige.