The truth behind Christmas
This Christmas we took a nice selfie. Tom and I have very few of these together, because he thinks it’s funny to put his moody face on any time I try and take a picture. Therefore photos from birthdays, holidays, and anniversaries tend to be me looking slightly frustrated as he has pulled the same trick again. This one was actually nice. But I didn’t want to give a false impression. I love this man to death that bit’s true, but this cheery snap shot wasn’t entirely honest.
So I didn’t post it. I was caught between the fact that I feel weird about my personal Facebook at the moment (people you wouldn’t spend time with normally looking at your social life), and I’m not sure if 47,000 people really want to see yet another beaming couple at Christmas. It gets a bit tiresome doesn’t it? I was definitely groaning over seeing another #couplegoals snap and shouting at my phone ‘Happy yeah? I give you 6 months max!’ or ‘Bet you just had a roaring argument you’re not telling anyone about!’
The reality of our festive season was this: I had a bit of a health scare at the start of December and was out of action for 2 weeks. Although I am feeling better, I have to have a camera up my bum sometime soon. When you’re self employed this means getting behind on work (stressful), not marketing black Friday well, and thus missing out on a big percentage of sales (moola for Christmas, but more importantly for the new year and actual things like bills and the such). I then basically had a cold for the rest of December (all bar the three days of Christmas- what a miracle).
December this year was a washout.
The highlights of our Christmas were high. I loved cooking Christmas dinner. I loved eating Christmas dinner. We had small gatherings of our closest friends, went to the pub for carols, and took the doggo for evening walks to see the Christmas lights. Lucie and the Tornado (niece) stayed with us. Lucie is Tom’s sister, and I adore her. I feel very lucky that she’s part of my family. The Tornado is 4 years old. As 4 year olds go, let’s say our niece is pretty ‘spirited’. I will read this to her when she is 18, and tell her what a terror she was, and how Uncle Tom was known for leaving the room and putting his headphones on when he needed a moments peace. We will laugh, make margaritas, and I will be 42. This is pretty terrifying.
By the time Tom and I were left alone togetherjust the two of us, and the post Christmas-blues and full cold hit again, we were not those people in that selfie. We were tired, and cheese-stuffed, hung-over, and fed up. We contemplated the next Christmas we would have, and the one after that. We pondered on family that had disappointed us, every low point we had had that year, and was it even worth moving from the sofa? An aura of greyness generally lurked over us.
Needless to say, the colds passed. We packed away the cheese, and realised that we didn’t have to decide what our future selves would be doing just yet. I put on actual clothes, and we were well enough to see the New Year in with friends.
So for all of those posts I’ve seen over Christmas of the joyful couples, bustling parties, and big nights out: don’t sweat it. It’s just a picture after all.
And when you look at this smiling photo of me, just remember that this month I will have to have a camera up my bum.
Happy new year!
First photo: Christmas joy
Second Photo: At a gorgeous restaurant in Florida having a genuinely amazing time.
