CHRISTMAS COUNTDOWN – WHY I LOVE CHRISTMAS

Sweet baby Jesus – I fucking love Christmas.

Sorry for the swearing, but I tell you – it’s warranted. Far and away the G R E A T E S T time of year.

Chilly, but nice outside. Lovely jubbly xmas songs wafting through the airwaves like a bad trump that won’t quite go away, (but you are secretly enjoying). Everyone appears to be in a jovial, spirited mood (makes a change for the office grump – yes I’m looking at you here Karen).

The only issue with it all? It’s all over too bloody fast.

24 measly hours we get. 24 measly hours to cram in as much un-adulterated happiness, whilst balancing the sober/pissed tightrope that, let’s face it, we all walk year on year.

But where does this pure adoration come from? It simply can’t have something to do with the bat-shit/bonkers/strangely-specific certain traditions my family hold…could it!?

The Traditions behind the Magic

Since I was a little girl, Christmas has always held such an importance in my life.

Being one of six, it was always a bit of a squeeze in la maison.

Therefore, from popping out the ol’ love tunnel, up until the age of about 18, we had a distinct gruelling-regime tradition.

We would all wake up (excruciatingly early, my poor mother), clamber to the end of our beds to check ‘If he’d been’.

I must have been a very well behaved child, as he always had been…oh how times change.

All six of us would proceed to the parents’ bedroom, in which we would assemble in a designated spot on the king size bed, open our stockings in front of each other (in age order, obvs), and then…

SING

A

CAROL

EACH.

Yup, sing a bloody carol each. NO, we aren’t what you’d call the modern day Von Trapp family. YES, getting older I have come to realise the slightly strange concept of this but, it was my childhood, it wasn’r as weird as it may sound to outsiders.

And honestly…amazing, amazing memories.

But this was only the beginning!!

After mother was satisfied with the annual carol service, we would all line up in age order (can you see a recurring theme here!?) at the top of the stairs, and then descend to the downstairs landing to greet the carrot and milk.

Once we had all confirmed that Santa is indeed a fat bastard (cookies and milk at every one of the 25 million homes in the UK alone (yes, I was one of those children)), we’d be back to the lining up – guess in which order – at the living room door.

Dad would proceed to duck into the front room to set up the cam-corder (miss those things, life seemed so much simpler then), and then after hearing the anticipated ‘YEPPP’, we would all frog march into the room and be greeted with an unbelievable mountain of gifts (there were 6 of us remember, we were by no way spoiled!).

Resuming our official seating places, mum would sit under the tree and roll call the recipient of whichever gift she had picked up.

She always did the passing out, there was no doubt about it. She still does it to this day.

After hours of joy, sprinkled with a certain envy of the siblings’ gifts (come on, we have all been kids before), we would cart our prezzies up the stairs and lay them out on the bed, like a shrine to our parents’ incredible work ethic.

Free time whilst dinner was being prepared would follow, and then the grandest, and loudest, meal of the year would be served; when you have approx. 10 people around the table (more like 20 nowadays, mind), the prosecco certainly didn’t help the swiftly raising octaves.

Thanks, kisses, and the reluctantly retiring to bed, eyes brimming with tears.

It’s over for another year.

The hollow feeling at the end of December 25th is something I still experience. THIS is why I hold the day so dear; anything that can make you feel ANY sort of emotions like this, has GOT to be important to you.

The Tradition Lives On

Every single year I tell this story, and every single year people look at me in complete disbelief.

As crackers as it may sound, this is our Christmas. After 20 years of six young children running riot every December 25^th, my mum has got it down to a tee. Wonder woman!

Don’t get me wrong: As we all grow up, traditions do change. Our day this year was not as similar to this as it once was. However, similar to my hairstyle, priorities have changed.

Spending time with those closest to you is above and beyond the most important aspect of life. It is why we were put on this planet, together. It is what makes the world go round.

No words can accurately describe the pride I feel towards my batshit/loud/extra/mahooooosive family.

 

This, ladies and gents, is why I love Christmas.

How about you? Have your family developed any quirky traditions? Let me know in the comments; i’m so intrigued to see if others have any any specific or odd traditions!

But for now, we’re stuck in this odd week before New Year when no one knows exactly what to do with themselves! Do we have to rise from bed before 11am? Do we need to wear pants? How long can you keep leftover turkey for!?!?!?!?!

Sad that, once again, it is all over…but memories truly do last a lifetime.

I hope all of you lovely lot had a day as precious as mine.

Until next year, St Nick!

Jen x

Christmas Countdown – The Predictions

Now, how does that age old poem go?

“Twas the eve of the eve of Christmas Eve, and all through the house,

Nothing was stirring, not even a mouse”

That’s how it goes, right? We’re nearly there folks; the annual best day of the year is almost on our doorstep, and I must admit, i’m starting to feel it now.

Preparation Is Key

Now, as you may already be aware, super-organiser extraodinaire Tganjen began her Christmas plans months ago.

Do not for one second judge me here, as i’m not bragging! As one of an enormous brood, on a pathetic wage, all whilst trying to earn a degree, unfortunately, it is a necessity.

Spider diagrams, comparison websites, hours procrastinated searching for inspiration…I thought I had it well under control.

However, life involuntarily gets in the way, and I slipped…severly. Cue the mad dash down the high street every single day the week before…KILL ME NOW!!!

With one more full shopping day left, I should be ok…but the whole process has got me thinking.

What am I hoping for under the tree this year?

**Warning – What you are about to read is very likely to come across as horribly. Please try to keep in mind that I am ALWAYS completely (and sometimes brutally) honest. Call it what you wish; spoiltness, un-greatfulness, gratuitous. I can assure you that I am none of these things. I am just unreservedly honest. Feel free to leave me a comment at the bottom with your opinions…I believe that everyone is always learning, therefore all criticism is eagerly welcomed!**

Ungreatful Spoiltness, or Thoughtless Convenience?

This is where I am bound to ruffle a few feathers.

Throw yourself back to Christmas 2016. Again, we had waited all year with baited breath.

I had asked for NOTHING in particular,  as as from previous experience, I had found that the gifts that I had received when they were actually thought through, and sweetly considered (rather than ordered by yours truly) were much nicer.

THIS WAS A MISTAKE.

As previously mentioned, I am one of a huge brood. Let me spell it out for you, without sounding too brattish, I tend to get a fair chunk of gifts…what can I say, i’m a very lucky, (very loveable, Ho Ho!) person.

Anyways, back to 25th December 2016. I had waited all day for the gift giving ceremony (which in our house takes hours). And then I waited. And then I waited.

And I received one gift.

ONE gift.

Out of 15 people sat in that room infront of me, I had received ONE gift.

To clarify, I am genuinely one of the most un-materialistic persons on the planet. I either lose, ruin or break anything of value (not on purpose, unfortunately this is just who I am as a person), which means that I very rarely treat myself to anything nice.

Like, legit – I struggle to even buy decent branded Tampons.

So I thoroughly enjoy the big day! People buying me nice things I would never buy myself = Very, Very happy Jen.

Not this year. One, flaming gift. As i’m writing this, it still hurts now!!

Apparently the team had decided it be best to all band together to purchase me a tablet. LOVELY gift…if you didn’t ALREADY HAVE ONE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Honestly, as much as it pains me to write, there were no words.

Quite literally…I said my thanks and was polite, and it wasn’t until the middle of the year that I finally plucked up the courage to ask “WTF!? Why on earth would you buy me such a thing? Why does no one know me at all!?”.

I’m not proud. Nor am I perfect; I have a lot to learn, quite clearly.

It all just felt rather…convenient. Black Friday had really taken off this year, and the gift, the LOVELY gift, was an absolute steal. Had my nearest and dearest been at a complete loss, and gone for an easy option? It certainly felt so.

After scrimping and pinching money together after a particularly difficult year, going above and beyond to think of amazing (if I do say so myself) gifts that I know they would love, this was like a kick to the heart.

This brings me to this year. My opinions known on last year, the family have been out scouring the local town for the perfect gift for me. Quietly, this fills me with glee!

But what do I forsee myself unwrapping this year? Let’s have a look at my predictions.

The Predictions

Momma: Jewellery, jewellery, jewelley. Mother is quite potentially one of THE most trendiest (and knowledgeable) women in the UK when it comes to jewels. After an unfortunate incident in Rimini, Italy this summer, in which all of my prized collection of jewellery, a collection built over 23 years, was stolen, I have high expectations from Momma-bear this year. Bring. It. On.

Siblings: A Blow-drying hairbrush – Mine broke during the summer, and as a lady who is as extra as Gemma Collins when it comes to blow drys, I have a feeling this will be in the mix somewhere along the line.

A dressing coat – After years of nagging about how much she hated this particular garment, my sister and housemate informed me one day that the dog had simply taken it upon himself to shred my beloved 5 year old dressing gown. The dog, being a tiny Chihuahua cross Pugg, who had never chewed a ruddy thing in his life, selected my house coat to begin. What are the odds eh? Expect a replacement.

Smellies – Perfume, Body Washes, Skin Creams…I’m a sucker for all things pretty, and a fiend for smells. Come near me with a bad case of BO? I will literally gag. Internally, of course.

Books – Being a student studying English Literature, one might assume that I have enough reading to do. No, not my family. Without a doubt a few books that I physically cannot read until summer will be thrown in the there, just to collect a nice chunk of dust for a few months.

A Purse – Lost mine a few weeks ago. As I mentioned earlier, I am horrendous at looking after things in my life. Relationships, purse, phone, they are all doomed…which brings me onto my next one…

A Clumsy-twat proof phone case – I cannot emphasise how much this pains me. Two weeks ago I received my FOURTH phone of the year. And ALREADY it has three lovely shattered corners, and a huge scratch across the sceen. Handy.

Dog: Unlimited + Pure true love. Literally all I could ever ask for.

Now, I know what you are thinking. I don’t ask for much, do I! What can I say, I’m honest, and certainly have high hopes this year…

But what’s on your list? Have you been dropping mega hints all year to your loved ones? Or do you go old school and post a list in your WhatsApp group? Le me know in the comments below!

Obviously, I shall update you after the big day has passed.

And if it’s a bleeding tablet again, look for me on Most Wanted!!

Wishing all my lovely followers a truly very, Merry Christmas. Stay safe, and I hope all of your dreams come true.

Jen x

 

 

 

Saying Goodbye to the Girl You Knew

It’s that time of year again. Every other sentence starts with “So are you all ready for Christmas then?”, or, “Are you excited?”.

Yes Carol, OF COURSE i’m bloody excited. It’s one of the two times of year in which I receive gifts which, the non-materialistic hippie inside me hates to admit, I thoroughly enjoy.

Yes, seeing the young ones in the tribe tearing open the “gifts-which-I’m-certain-are-the-greatest-gifts-they-shall-ever-be-so-lucky-to-receive-only-for-them-to-toss-to-one-side-when-the-next-sack-gets-delivered” does bring a special warmth to my heart (and aneurysm to my brain) quite like no other time of year.

But excited? You know what? No, I’m really not excited. I’m really not excited at all.

This year has been hard. Fantastic in some respects. Unbelievable at other times. But overall, this year has been really, very difficult for me.

Here’s where I am simply compelled to throw the standard warning in: I am about to embark on a mammoth whine about the opposite sex. Not your type of thing?

You can find other posts here. Sorry (not sorry).

In addition, although the nature of this post isn’t necessarily naughty, I need to start somewhere, and it would be false for me to start anywhere other than where my great whopping head has been for the past 12 months.

Anyways…

Losing a Part of Yourself

This year I lost my partner in crime.

This year I lost my protector.

This year I lost my friend.

After a V E R Y colourful 5-6 years, me and the man that I was certain was going to father the future sprogs, parted ways.

I know what you’re thinking, “CHRIST, there are worse bloody things in the world Jen, stop harping on”.

But I can’t. A solid 12 months since we ended. A solid 6 months with completely no contact. And I still think of him daily.

Now don’t get me wrong, I have 0 contact with him for a reason. Believe it or not, this is by choice.

And God love my friends! They have been there through absolute thick and thin, worst and best, torturous and side-splitting hilarious. But as friends do, they just can’t help filling me in on every little tiny detail that he is getting on with.

And i’m sick of it.

I feel like i’m going insane. As much as people tell me how much better I am doing, or how much better I can do. As much as people tell me that I’ll get over it, “it just takes time!”. As much as people tell me that i’m “doing the right thing, he was no good” for me anyways…

I.Just.Can’t.Stop.

I go through my days, thinking about how he would laugh at this, or how much he would love that present, or the absolute worst; how much I know he will be thinking about me, and how he is only with the new girl because he can’t have me.

To be blunt? It’s embarrassing. It’s embarrassing, it’s pathetic, and it’s almost psychotic.

Countless cocktail nights turned emotional support talks have attempted to convince me that, “It’s not him that I want. It’s someone”. I can’t decide which is worse! Pathetic or desperate, what a choice!

And now we have Christmas. A time of year that, for the past few years, I have had someone to completely share it with. I have had someone to buy for! I have had someone to consider.

I am terrified.

Watching the beautiful nearest and dearest giving and receiving from their loved ones is going to be about as much fun as a smear.

There is simply no denying it: It is going to be shit.

Or

Will

It?

Time For Change

Well, it is going to be shit, if I let it be shit.

Changing your attitude or outlook may seem like a slightly standard piece of advice you’d expect to hear from the besties/sisters/poor unfortunate soul sat next to you on the bus BUT, this year I’m frigging well determined.

Determined to change everything around! Countless hours I have procrastinated, wondering why I am like this!? Multiple veiled tweets sent, just in case he is still watching. I refuse to let memories rule my present any longer.

No more time is going to be stolen from me. No more eye rolls from those closest who, although they truly want the best for me, are sick to the back teeth of me subconsciously pulling every conversation back to him. No more waiting for the next part of my life to begin. I am here, I am willing, I am ready.

It won’t be an overnight thing. I really do have so much to work on, mainly involving coming to terms with myself, who I am, and why I feel that I don’t deserve anything good. I know what I need to do! I have known for a while. Why I have never felt like the time was right? I’ll never know.

All I know that as always with me, it is a work in progress, and this is just the beginning.

Bring it on.

All the best, and have a bloody good Crimbo you lovely, lovely lot.

Jen x