Christmas and all that Jingles

 

No escaping the Christmas Hype

Hate it or love it, Christmas and all it means to you personally, is almost upon us.

At this point in the year, our senses are bombarded by a flood of Christmas hype-catalogues, suggestions, tips, menus, how to’s and what not to do’s. It’s enough to daunt the bravest out there.

Pro- Christmas celebrators vs Anti- Christmas celebrators

In my large, and unwieldy, family we are divided into two camps.

• Those of us who love Christmas, hang onto all the traditions, and tolerate the chaos.
•  Those who feign indifference, who sigh, and raise their brows at all the unnecessary time, money and effort. I notice they never turn down the gifts.

How we celebrate changes as a family evolves

I’m in the first camp but that has it challenges too.

Life changes, kids grow up, we lose some members, and add others. Some members of Camp one, migrate to Camp two. Each new member brings their own history of Christmas, (or lack thereof), and both Camps have to adjust to to different needs and perspectives.

The essential tools for surviving Christmas in a large family

If I have learnt anything over the last few years, it is that to survive Christmas celebrations, you need to be flexible, have a sense of humour and keep your expectations real.

Those who like to be in control, in the family, really battle, as events in a big family rarely go to plan.

There is Value in Christmas celebrations gone wrong

We have had some great Christmas’, and we have had some shockers.

These Christmas’s have been given reference titles by the family. Whilst devastating at the time, they are still a talking point. Lessons were learned, including seeing the funny side.

“Wet Christmas” involved two weeks, of twenty-five family members, camping in torrential rain. The adults recall two miserable weeks of squabbles, frayed tempers, out of bounds behavior and disappointment. The children remember swimming in the river, and haring around on their bicycles, with the freedom that they could never be allowed in the suburbs.

“Flyfoot farm Christmas” was another disaster. I’m not sure why it is called that, but possibly to do with staying on a farm, with sticky feet flies so large and persistent, we expected the turkey to be lifted right off the table.

We also had a mother- in- law, whose fierce control of the days events caused a mini mutiny. She refused to speak to us for six months, following that Christmas, claiming we had all ruined her day.

Three years ago we had “Sad Christmas,” six months after the untimely death of a family member. He was our natural born party planner, with the knack of turning the most minor occasions into flamboyant celebrations. He left us all floundering in a sea of uncertainty, which soon became a sea of alcohol, as we tried to figure out how to pull it off without him.

In more recent memory we had ‘Shouting Christmas.” This involved a spectacular argument between two siblings (not the young adults, or the grandparents I might add) that almost became fisticuffs.

It turned into an epic clash when everyone got involved, as happens in big families, and no one talked to anyone else for a good few weeks after. Some, I suspect, have still never forgiven the protagonists.

Battered by the experience of “Shouting Christmas”, we each huddled down in our own little houses last year and avoided a clan gathering.This was a Camp two decision of course.

This is now known as “Quiet Christmas.” For Camp one members it was terrible. A day of the agony of missing everyone, and resenting the Camp two members who had forced this unnatural state on us.

So this year we are trying a “Next Generation Christmas.” My eldest son and his fiancée are trying their hand at hosting, leading the way for their generation.

Intimidating,I’m sure,  but they have tackled the challenge with enthusiasm. He is a great delegator and doesn’t hesitate to assign tasks. My first lesson right there.

Each Christmas has it’s own challenges

This year has new challenges. My father has opted not to join us, my mother is no longer here. One sister has a terminally ill family member and doesn’t want to travel too far from him.

Create your own reality by expecting it to be a great day

Despite all of this, I am looking forward to it.

My mother loved Christmas. In her daughters she instilled a great sense of magic and anticipation, with deep rooted traditions. It’s not about the presents, or even the lavish food. It’s the connectedness, the reminiscing, and the laughter which reminds us of where we have come from.

The trappings of Christmas are an outward reflection of our core family strength

This year is going to be different, but also just the same.

The same solid foundation of love which, no matter what goes wrong, underpins all of our family celebrations. The food, the gifts, and attention to detail will, as always, be a reflection of our gratitude to belonging to this extraordinary family.

Blending past and present Christmas

For me, including the traditions of our past, pays homage to those who have gone before us and left us with their love of celebrations.

At the same time, I’m ready to embrace the layers of new ideas and traditions that the next generation will surely stamp onto our Christmas celebrations.

Above all, I will expect the unexpected, as one should in a large family.