I’m giving my kids cash for Christmas this year.
Not even a gift card, just money. I’m also giving my nieces, nephews, friends and probably the postie cash for Christmas too. I think my sisters thought I was joking when I mentioned it, but alas, I was not. I didn’t mean to cancel Christmas, it just happened.
This year, I just haven’t managed to Christmas. This is entirely out of character for me – I am generally a Christmas fiend. Witness:
I mean, in years past I made elf doughnuts, for crying out loud. I freaking love Christmas.
This year, aside from hastily stuffing money into Noel cards, I’ve done absolutely bugger all. No Christmas tree, no decorations, no shopping. No parties either – we’ve said no to the lot. Most years, we even have a big Christmas party at our place, but not this year. One year we even took the kids to Europe to have a white Christmas. Ha! Nup, this year, Christmas is cancelled.
Mostly, it’s because we’re renovating and don’t have a proper house (I am so very over the renovating). But it’s also because I’m just really, really, really tired this year. I’ve done a lot of things and I was done by November. I’ve always said that when life gets overwhelming we need to get out our ‘to do’ list and just start crossing things off. Well, this year I crossed off Christmas.
Read more about Christmas:
- Hey Santa, I’ve been pretty nice, so here’s my mum’s wishlist
- Royals George, Charlotte and Louis won’t get to keep all their Christmas gifts
- Dear mummy and daddy, don’t stress, this is all I care about at Christmas
Letting it go
I had so many plans, so many gift ideas, a brand new Christmas tablescape idea (I mean, I use the word ‘tablescape’, I am definitely a Christmas type!). All dreams, no doing. We’ve kept the Christmas kindness going, but that’s about it.
Instead, on Christmas day, the kids will delight in their wad of cash for Christmas (I’m planning tens and twenties so it looks like heaps – see, I still care). We’ll be having breakfast at a fancy-pants place in Brisbane in the morning, then heading out to set up camp at Woodford in the afternoon. That pretty much sums up my life: luxe one minute, in the dirt the next.
We’ll be meeting up with my sister and friends to pool our tinned camping food for a Christmas night feast. We’ll put all the fold up camping tables together to make a long table down a dusty Woodford road, cheers our lukewarm wine and beer, and feel satisfied in knowing that there isn’t any place we’d rather be.
F*ck it, we’ll catch it next year
So, forgive me and my bah humbug ways just this once. I just wanted to tell you about it because if Ms Christmas herself can get away with saying f*ck it, then you can too. Maybe not this year, but one year. One year when you need it. Just cancel Christmas. Cross it off the list and go give your kids a big hug, a wad of cash and a week-long music festival. They’ll still love you forever, I promise.
Merry(ish) Christmas to you and yours!