Hello, it’s me, yes, I’m back. I have been somewhat absent since the summer, busy dealing with some of my own, less entertaining issues, but here I am, and guess what, this week I am going to talk to you about Hallow-Christmas. Sod Hallowe’en, that didn’t even register over at casa de Brown this year. I’ve never really been a fan of the whole, dress your kids up in an old sheet and beg for free food thing, but I know a lot of people love it, so I won’t bitch about it too much. That said, I have thoroughly loved seeing everyone’s pictures on Facebook over the last week, there’s something about seeing a seven-year-old dressed up as a character from an 18-certificate film that really speaks to my ironic nature. Ghosts and goblins and excessive sugar consumption aside, the next day is November, and that can only mean one thing…Christmas is basically already over.
I mean, I know it’s bonfire night soon, and we will be partaking in the celebrations this year. Back in Leeds, we used to have pie and peas parties with some pretty piss poor fireworks at the bottom of the garden, but the alcohol consumed used to make it all the better. This year, I am still a bit of a social pariah, but we will be going to an organised display. I’m actually looking forward to it, very much in fact. Not so much because the fireworks will be pretty, and there will be toffee apples, and candy floss, and hot dogs, and more than likely a jacket potato that will cost more than a whole bag of potatoes, and will be just as raw, but because, when the fireworks are all over, the real fun can begin. After bonfire night, the only thing left to look forward to is…CHRISTMAS!
Those of you that know me, will already know that I have a bit of an issue with restraint over the Christmas period. I know a lot of you are already sitting here thinking I’m crazy for bringing it up so soon, there’s a whole month before it really starts. You’re wrong, but I will let you off. I’ve already got my Christmas bedding out of storage and on the bed (that went on on November 1st). So, for all you parents who are telling me that starting the Christmas festivities this early ‘ruins the magic’ for the children, let me tell you one thing that I think will change your mind. The earlier you start with the Christmas festivities, the earlier you can start with the Santa blackmail. You’ve all done it, you know you have, ‘Santa’s watching,’ ‘I’ll tell Santa,’ more recently there’s even, ‘Right, I’m getting Santa on the phone, right now. Sant, hello, this is Barney’s mum, did you see what he just did? Oh, you did? What’s that? You’re not going to get him the *name of a present that you know they don’t really want, but will upset them just the right amount to know that Santa means business*? Well Santa, if that’s what you think is the right thing to do, I respect you for that.’
I actually do this to some degree all year round. In every room of our house, we have ceiling vents (I think that’s what they are, although I’ve never asked), but if you ask Oscar what they are, he will tell you that they are ‘Santa cams’ and he is well aware that Santa has a team of elves, a bit like MI5, sitting in a room watching all of the children go about their daily lives, ALL YEAR ROUND. I mean, obviously he amps up the coverage in the run up to Christmas, because that’s when it’s really important that you brush your teeth the first time I ask you, and you don’t throw your shoes down the stairs because you ‘couldn’t tie the laces tight’ even though they’re Velcro. And, Santa really cares about whether or not you eat that last pea, especially in December!
I’m no fool though, I’ve got two cats and a dog, and a five-year-old, I know it’s not sensible to put all the decorations up so soon. (I didn’t know this a few years ago, when I had all of my decorations up on November 1st, and then rescued four kittens who spent the three weeks they were with me chasing each other around my tree. The tree didn’t last until Christmas and I had to buy a new one). So, for now, I just settle for my festive flannel bedding. It also means I don’t have to put the heating on just yet, because it’s so toasty.
Do you know what else is exciting about this time of year? For me, it’s basically the only reason I had a child, the Nativity! When I was little, it was my favourite thing. Our primary school did a Nativity and a pantomime, in the last year there, I was both Mary in the Nativity, and the Pied Piper in the pantomime. I was ten years old, and I felt like I had made it. I had to pay my dues to get to those dizzying heights of stardom though, in my first Nativity, I was part of a star. Not even trusted to be a whole star, just part of one. One year I was a shepherd, another year I was a clockwork doll in the Nutcracker, and everyone said how convincingly I portrayed a clockwork ballerina. Mum still tells that story to this day. Sadly, when I left primary school and casting became more to do with popularity than actual talent, I hung up my red and yellow tights, and never acted again. To this day, I still miss that feeling of being centre-stage. Then I had a baby, reared him for a few years, and then I had to choose a school. This was my chance to live my dreams through my boy. So, I got him in a C of E school, where I knew they must do a Nativity, and a proper one as well, not a ‘keep everyone happy’ one. They got it half right…
Last year, around this time, Oscar came home with a letter saying that he was going to be a donkey in the Nativity. ‘A donkey,’ I thought, ‘that’s a great starting part, right there in the stable, ringside for the birth of Jesus!’ For weeks he was coming home singing the songs from the play, and from this point onwards, I will call it a play, because it wasn’t a Nativity like we know it, it was a ‘Nativity-based play.’ I can’t even remember what it was called now, but the music was all wrong. There were no carols, there were songs. No, ‘While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks by Night’, no ‘Away in a Manger’, no ‘Once in Royal David’s City’ with the obligatory terrified Year 6 girl singing the first verse as a solo. It was a tad disappointing, if I’m honest. Now, I will say this, before you all think I’m a monster, I LOVED seeing the children up there in their groups, the older girls that had memorised everything and were putting on a proper show, the ones that were absolutely terrified and just froze for the whole performance, and then the ones that seemed to forget they were even in a play at all and just dicked about in the front row with their mate, fighting each other with their donkey heads, and occasionally picking their nose. Yes, that was Oscar, and I couldn’t have been more proud.
This year, we got to school after half-term, and out came the Nativity costumes. There was an instant hum of excitement as all the mums cooed and wondered which costume was for their child. That day, I picked Oscar up from school, and we had the following conversation,
Oscar: Mum, I’m a camel in this year’s Nativity.
Me: Oh, really? Why are you a camel?
Oscar: I put my hand up when the teacher asked who wanted to be a camel.
Me: Okay, so what did your friend want to be?
Oscar: He’s a shepherd, he has to look after the sheep.
Me: Oh, and why didn’t you want to be a shepherd?
Oscar: Because I don’t know how to look after sheep.
That’s the kind of logic you just can’t argue with! And now, I am off to watch a selection of Christmas films while eating far too many mince pies, and not caring about my ever-expanding waistline.