At 6 days old, C was understandably nonplussed by Christmas this year, but her big sister more than made up for it, running into our room first thing shouting “Santa’s been!” and delighting in helping her baby sister open her presents, as well as her own. It was all a far cry from last year’s performance, where G managed to step over her stocking without noticing it, and stumble blurry eyed into our room oblivious to the previous night’s Christmas preparation efforts.
Christmas for me is usually a blur of crafting efforts and a day spent hovering in and out of the kitchen, with attempts at homemade Christmas presents discarded at last minute when I realise I haven’t got time to finish them, making notes of who bought what ready for writing thank you notes and channeling wrapping paper straight into the bin, and of course spending a disproportionate amount of time making Christmas dinner.
This year, somewhat blurry eyed myself from nights of cluster feeding from C, I happily handed over all these duties to the other half, who did a sterling job. 3 years of being a stay-at-home-Dad means he’s more at home than I am in the kitchen nowadays, even whipping up a batch of pannetone and serving up peach bellinis (our prize from the school Christmas fair bottle tombola) with breakfast. C did her part by sleeping through Christmas dinner meaning I got to eat it both two handed and whilst it was still hot – a revelation!
It’ll be a few years before C’s excitement about Christmas reaches her sister’s fever pitch, but this year really proved what others have told me before – it might be fun being a kid at Christmas, but it’s even more fun having kids at Christmas.