Xmas Spirit

If your calendar’s anything like mine the month of December will be filled with Santa parades, the Summer Show, the Christmas Festival, end-of-year concerts, assemblies and parties, work dos and birthday parties. There isn’t a single slot free.

December 1 is marked “Put Xmas tree up!!!” As it is considered bad luck to jump the gun here, I make myself wait until the first of the month and with carols cranking the tree is erected with vigour... for the first five minutes.

Two hours and several broken decorations from curious over-zealous hands later, we have an assembled, albeit evermore threadbare, masterpiece amid a thick carpet of pine needles.

As we stand amongst the carnage admiring the twinkling fairy lights, the cat decides to add to it by pouncing up onto one of the top, weaker branches. Down the tree topples in a twinkling, tinselly mess.

The cat is thrown out the door in disgust and it’s back to square one. Another hour later 
and with much less enthusiasm, the job is complete. Chocolate Christmas calendars are handed out and the theme is set for the month.

Although I must admit, in a desperate moment in November, to already pulling out the: “Santa’s little elves are watching you from now on. If you’re naughty, it will get back to Santa in the North Pole and you won’t get any presents.”

This is immediately effective as three little heads start swiveling round in search. “But where are they mummy?” they ask, looking worried.

“Oh, they hide in bushes and all sorts of secret places,” I say knowingly. “You never know when they’ll be watching so you better make sure you’re good all the time.”

This starts to wear thin by mid-December so I’m trying not to over-do it.

The Santa parade came about after I looked through some old photo albums at kindy and stumbled upon pictures of children (including myself amusingly) on a float representing Onerahi Kindergarton. After making the passing comment that we had to get the tradition back up and running I’d found myself nominated with two weeks to organise it.

I lost sleep that night and was thankfully saved the next day when another mother offered to take over most of the organising. This is going ahead today and will hopefully be the re-start of many more.

The kids have taken great delight in watching the Summer Show progress as we drove past this week with new tents springing up each day. Having forgotten their visits from previous years I filled them in on what it’s about.

That night Jayla excitedly met her dad at the door.
”Daddy, we’re going on the “roger” cars and we’re going to crash into you!” (She somehow misinterpreted “dodgem cars”.)

“And I’m going on the “Wherris” Wheel!” shouted Jai. (We’ll see about that.)

“And then you’re going to watch me in my show,” added Jayla.

A puzzled pause before we realise she’s confused the Summer Show for her ballet show (which she’s been harping on about for the last six weeks).

Finally, a day or two after Christmas, the tree is hastily pulled back down - depositing another 10,000 pine needles - amidst a flurry of packing. It’s the last thing you want to face in the New Year when you arrive home from a week-long camping trip with ten bags of washing in tow.

Plus it’s bad luck.