12 Bloggers of Christmas - Sarah
I’m not feeling Christmas this year, I know, I know, blasphemous, but it’s the truth. I feel like I could be the Grinch, except I don’t really suit green. I’m 28, I don’t have kids and I just don’t get excited anymore, it’s a strange feeling. However, I won’t bore you all and complain about the holidays, instead I’m going to take you down memory lane and share a few things that made my past Christmases unforgettable and really special.
From the age of five, my younger brother, mum and I all lived with my Nan and Grandad. My Nan adored Christmas, it was totally her jam, and she went all out; the amount of decorations and singing Santa Clauses that woman had was insane. Our house had a grotto-like feeling from the beginning of December and I loved it. As soon as the sky began to show any signs of greying, my Nan would insist that all the twinkly lights be turned on and for the house to come alive with decorative snowmen and snowflakes.
Every year my brother would eat the whole of his Advent Calendar on December 1st whilst I played big sister and acted extremely cross at his lack of willpower. Then everyday afterwards he’d beg me to share my daily chocolate with him. It wasn’t going to happen, the chocolate in those things is tiny, it can’t be shared, and I was no fool. We had tins of yummy goodness on every counter; I’d pick the strawberry flavoured chocolates out of the tins of Roses, they were my favourite, it was tradition.
On Christmas Eve, before our bath, my mum would let my brother and I unwrap one present. I don’t know why she bothered wrapping them because each year it was new pyjamas. I’m a PJ fiend, I’d happily live in my pyjamas so loved receiving new ones. When it was time for bed, every year, probably until I was in my early twenties, my Nan would sing to us as my brother and I climbed the stairs. When we were really little, we’d hum along or sing the odd word but by the time I was ten, I was singing the whole song with her.
Christmas Eve is here And we go off to bed As we climb the stairs And nod our sleepy heads We take our stockings off Hang them in a row And quickly jump right into bed And off to sleep we go
Oh, jingle bells, jingle bells
Every year she sang that to us and I promised myself that if I ever have children I’d always sing it to them on Christmas Eve. I miss my Nan and Grandad more than anything but I’ve absolutely loved writing this post and I hope you enjoyed reading it.
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