Anticipation

The run up to Christmas has always been an exciting one when I was younger. The planning of what we would have for Christmas dinner on Christmas Day (which would sometimes be cooked by my Aunt...and when she cooks dinner she starts at 11am and we don't eat until 9pm!). The decorating of the tree, dusting off those huge boxes filled with decorations from the loft and bringing them into the front room where we'd spend at least an hour trying to force the tree into it's ancient stand and make it stand straight, before carefully placing every red and gold bauble on a branch it would compliment, sorting out the nativity set and hiding baby Jesus on the bookshelf before padding his crib with cotton wool so he was comfortable on Christmas Eve and finally, placing the Angel on the top of the tree. That was my job. My mum and I lived alone so we could do things our way. As I got older we had a few tiffs as to what decorations to use. I wanted new modern ones, like blue and silver, or black and pink but of course my mother wanted traditional and we always stuck with that. When my mother and Auntie went to the local shopping centre there was always the excitement of what they would bring back and the hope that they had talked to Santa about what presents I wanted. All those oddly shaped bags with strange paper wrapped around them made my heart jump every time I saw them! I remember always wishing for a white Christmas. I lived in London so any snow we did get was short lived and soon turned into slush by the ongoing traffic, on the pavements and the roads. But I used to watch a lot of Christmas movies, all about big houses in America full of warm decorations and fireplaces ablaze where families were snuggled up in their blankets and jumpers singing Christmas songs while the snow fell down outside the double doored porch, leaving a blanket of white on their huge garden. That was what I always wanted. 
Not any more. 
Christmas has become something of a chore now. The rush to buy the presents, the worry that I don't have enough money, the effort of tracking down friends to give their presents. I don't even decorate the tree with my mother any more considering we moved in with her boyfriend and his two children and when I'm at Uni my mother does it without me. This year I specifically instructed her not to the put the Angel up until I got home. It was always my job and it will always be my job. But it seems the magic of Christmas has completely gone now that I'm older. I'm not saying that I believe in Santa because I know that I'm the one forking out money for these presents not him, but it would be nice to have some of that childhood spirit back in my life this time of year. The most magical thing about December is wondering when my exams will finish and what chocolate I'm getting in my advent calender! It's sad to think that every thing I loved and enjoyed about Christmas is now gone, all because a couple more years of my life have flown by. Some times I do wish I was a child again, just to feel that blissful ignorance one last time. 
But who am I to put a downer on all things Christmas? The excitement is still there is we make it, so with that I will leave you with 'Merry Christmas To All, And To All ... A Good Night'