Bah! Humbug! All I want for Christmas is to be better organised, and stuffed mushrooms
Does anyone know if there are selfhelp groups for folks who struggle with Christmas? If so, let me know which grim, tree-free hall it’s held in and I’ll be there. Many thanks.
We still have a couple of weeks until the big day and already I feel overwhelmed with everything that I have to do. It’s too much. And why do I feel it’s necessary to redecorate my daughter’s bedroom “in time for Christmas”? The man in the beds department at John Lewis actually laughed when I asked if I could get a bed delivered in two days’ time. Not just me who goes to such ridiculous lengths then. What madness is it that overcomes us all before one solitary day of celebration?
I have still to purchase a single present, so I’m feeling woefully disorganised and a bit panicky. That feeling wasn’t helped when I chatted to someone who told me that not only did she do all her shopping last month but her, no doubt thoughtful and generous, gifts are wrapped and under the tree – which was put up and decorated ages ago. She had also completed a spreadsheet for her food shop, in order of the aisles in which the ingredients will be found at the supermarket. She seemed relaxed and excited at the prospect of Christmas. I felt sad and unworthy.
Then there is the thorny issue of how much to spend on presents. A woman on Instagram was getting an absolute kicking this week for sharing that she intended to spend more on her hair and nails for her work night out than presents for her children. The world of social media was outraged. In fact, she even got death threats. Ah, Christmas, peace on earth, goodwill to all men and all that.
Another mum said she’d set a budget of £100 for each of her kids as she didn’t want to spoil them. Inevitably everyone piled on to call her a scrooge. I thought that was quite generous, especially considering one of the kids was only a year old. Good grief, you can get give them an empty cardboard box at that age and they’re delighted.
At the other end of the spectrum a mother of three made the mistake of telling the world that she spends between three and four grand on her family. That certainly “sparked a debate”. She said that she amassed her stash throughout the year. I thought her dedication was impressive, but completely bafflingly.
My husband and I gave up getting gifts
for each other ages ago. He bought me a cook book that last Christmas when the beautiful tradition died and the fallout was so great, we never bothered thereafter. Like most men – and forgive me the gender stereotyping here but it’s true – he used to casually wander down to the now deserted shops on Christmas Eve and wonder what all the fuss was about.
I have only cooked a proper Christmas dinner twice and both times it was a disaster. The first was when I was living in Australia many years ago. If I tell you that most of the day was spent drinking beer on the beach before I made it to the kitchen, you can draw your own conclusions.
The other was when I volunteered to host for my extended family. My brother found the packets in which most of the terrible meal had come. “Life’s too short to stuff a mushroom,” I told him, parroting Shirley Conran’s famous saying.
“It’s not that short,” he replied. All I can remember is lying on the floor weeping silently after they left. I’m pathetic.
My sister-in-law, on the other hand, regularly cooks for hordes of people and makes it seem effortless. Incredibly, she also manages to appear as if she’s enjoying it. I am genuinely in awe of her. And yes, I’d love to come for Christmas dinner this year, Meg. Thank you. And my family will thank you too.