I love Christmas. I mean really love it. There can never be enough tinsel, too many fairy lights or sufficient sausages wrapped in bacon wrapped in sausages and so on for me.

I want it to be perfect too. I want snow to fall, chestnuts to roast on an open fire and there to be peace and goodwill to all people.

Of course, deep down I know that these things won’t happen, that roasted chestnuts are actually a bit dry, that in my forty one years on this earth, it hasn’t snowed once at Christmas and that you only have to turn on the News to see that peace and goodwill are a little way off.

Still, I think it’s important to hope and to believe. That’s actually what Christmas is about for me – the excitement is in the build-up, the thrill of expectation before the reality of the actual day – a lovely reality, but not quite like the dream.

With this in mind and for your festive delight, here are the dreams and reality of my own Christmas.

 

The Dream

The weeks before Christmas are enjoyed at a leisurely pace. I have been making thoughtful home-made presents since September. All the gifts are purchased by the end of November, cards written in the first week of December and everything wrapped by the 10^th.

I attend lots of wonderful Christmas parties wearing a different amazing dress and shoe combination to each one.  I always dance in a stylish and dignified manner and leave at a sensible hour. I never have a hangover.

On Christmas Eve, I watch The Snowman snuggled up with my children and let the Christmas spirit wash over me. In the evening, I watch It’s a Wonderful Life with my husband, weeping over the ending because this is what Christmas is all about. I go to bed early so that I am on sparkling form the next day.

Christmas Day is sheer bliss. The children sleep in until eight, they open their stockings, which are filled with thoughtful and useful presents. We sit on the bed enjoying a family breakfast of croissants and coffee. No crumbs are made or jammy fingerprints left on the duvet.

My husband cooks the most magnificent Christmas dinner and we sink into post-lunch happiness, watching a film, playing games and supping on Champagne.

By the evening we are sleepy, happy and possibly a couple of the other seven dwarves as well. We fall into bed feeling content and very lucky.

 

The Reality

The weeks before Christmas are endured in a screaming panic. I have been making thoughtful home-made presents since the 18^th of December and the remains of my Christmas Chutney are still welded to the counter-top like the some kind of evil super-glue. I order the last present from Amazon on the 23^rd of December and still refuse to pay for postage, praying to the god of super-saver deliveries for benevolence. The presents are all wrapped by 2 am on Christmas Day.

I have one Christmas party to attend along with a rising panic about what to wear. I do not own any amazing dresses and the last time I wore my posh shoes, I sustained a blister the size of a Jaffa Cake. I am always the first on the dance floor and the last to leave. My hangover lingers for the best part of a week.

On Christmas Eve, I watch The Snowman snuggled up with my children. By the end, we are all sobbing and my son is wailing, ‘Why do you make us watch this EVERY year?’

In the evening, I watch It’s a Wonderful Life with my husband, weeping over the fifty or so presents of varying size and shape still to wrap, and the fact that apparently this is what Christmas is all about. I feel the spirit of a bad back and sore shoulders wash over me as we head to bed around
2.30 am utterly exhausted.

Christmas Day is weary bliss. The children sleep in until six, they open their stockings filled with lots of plastic and useless presents and we enjoy a hundred weight of sweets, chocolate and coffee for breakfast. There is an alarming brown stain left on the duvet, which I ignore.

My husband cooks the most magnificent Christmas dinner and we sink into post-lunch torpor, watching a film, playing games and supping on Champagne.

By the evening we are sleepy, happy and possibly a couple of the other seven dwarves as well. We fall into bed feeling content and very lucky.

May your Christmas dreams and reality be similarly wonderful.

Merry Christmas, my friends!