Christmas 2019

This was our second Christmas with little Walt and our fifth with Joan, who suddenly seems so big. This year Joan helped me decorate the tree, posted a letter to Santa and arranged snacks for him on Christmas Eve (“I think Santa would like a coffee”). For all of this, Christmas felt magical. But it was also really hard, as it was our twelfth without my brother, David, and our first without Ben’s sister, Amanda. We were at once grateful and grieving.

Christmas morning was slow and simple - precisely how we like it. I woke at the appallingly early hour of 4am and, feeling far too excited to go back to sleep, decided to get out of bed and sit by the tree with a cup of coffee, willing the others to wake. Which they eventually did, just shy of 6am. And then it began.

“Did Santa come?”
“Did he really come?”
“A skipping rope!”
“Oh it’s so heavy, can you help me open it?”
“How did Santa know I like peanut butter?”
“Here, Walt, let me help you.”
“Walt only got three presents, I got five!”

We then presented each other with a few small gifts. My mum had helped Joan frame one of her drawings, which she ever so proudly handed to Ben and me (thanks, Mum). I gave Ben some biodegradable dish sponges and he gifted me some beeswax wraps (we’re quite the romantics, aren’t we?). Ben and I then surprised Joan a kids digital camera, which I’d come across a little while ago on the Cup of Jo website. Walt was gifted a kaleidoscope camera and a fairy wand - the same one his sister has, which he’s coveted for months yet is forbidden from touching because it’s “too special” (I tried to find a link to the wand on Etsy, where I bought it some ten months ago, but can no longer see it).

Breakfast followed, with fruit salad and croissants. This was Walt’s first taste of croissant. Unsurprisingly, he loved it. The little man then had a snooze while the rest of us lazed about, before preparing to go to my parents’ house in Red Hill. Mum and dad had cooked a glorious feast, as they do every year, with roasted vegetables, rolled and stuffed turkey breast, slow-roasted pork shoulder, stuffing, brussels, gravy (two kinds) and bubbles, plus pudding and cream with boozy sauce. Each year I hope Joan will realise the beauty that is my mother’s gravy. I imagine we’ll each have a mouthful then exchange a look that says “how good is this!?!??!”…but each year she is far too excited to eat anything beyond a few peas and some cream - maybe a potato. When there’s people to talk to and presents to be played with, food is the last thing on Joan’s mind. Walt, on the other hand, devoured his plate of pork + gravy, requested two more serves and most definitely gave me that look.

I don’t quite recall how the rest of the day unfolded. No doubt we played with puzzles and moseyed around the garden. I do remember Ben lying on the floor in the hallway, too tired and too full to sit while acting as a makeshift gate for Walt, who was acting rather reckless around those steps (drunk on pork, as it were). See for yourself.

Heidi xo