Christmas. A month of excitement, cheek-kissing old aunties and most importantly, presents…I mean family (sorry mum!)
As far back as I can remember, Christmas has been my favourite month of the year. Always a warm fire to come home to, surrounded by family, most of them pretty merry on Baileys, Christmas has always been a magical time for me.
Due to my parents busy jobs, for the past 18 years I’ve been shipped out to family members the week before Christmas. Finally reunited with my exhausted parents late on Christmas Eve, this day always brought up childlike excitement of finally going home to enjoy Christmas day with my parents and brothers. Though I’m not sure anything beats the excitement of Christmas morning, with my dad video-taping my brothers and I opening presents in an excited rush of wrapping paper and giggles, Christmas CD’s playing in the background, it was perfect.
This year though, it seems i’m being plagued by winter blues. Instead of a lovely fire and my dogs to go home to, I come back to my freezing student residences to either a) go out and get wasted or b) stay in and glare at my essay all night. Not quite the spectacle of The Grinch’s Whoville I seem to idolise as the perfect Christmas.
Being a poor student without an overdraft - thanks to the very un-festive people at my bank - Christmas has hit me hard. I normally adore buying presents for people, finding something perfect for one of your closest friends or family members is such a thrill to me. This year however, I’ve had to stick to a tight £10 budget each, which was absolute hell. I always normally spoil my mum with at least four or five presents, this year she’s getting a measly Adele dvd. Where’s the excitement in one DVD-shaped present?
For the first time ever, I have all my presents wrapped and sorted eagerly waiting to hand them out - which is very unlike me to be this prepared for anything. Except, I have no Christmas tree to put them under. I love everything about Christmas trees, the twinkling lights, the tinsel, and realising I wasn’t going to decorate one this year was the trigger of these winter blues.
I’ve found this year, that being the youngest child, my becoming-an-adult and leaving for university spelt the end of excited Christmas mornings waking up early and general excitement. I’m not sure my 20-something-year-old brothers will appreciate me waking them up at 6am like I used to (although I will soon find out.) Where has the magic of Christmas gone?
Christmas isn’t going to be as magical as it used to be, and i’m not hoping for the latest Barbie. But still, I’m determined to beat this Christmas blues. Next stop, Home for a Baileys by the fire.
