Deep cleaning the house whilst still in pyjamas and skipping breakfast and lunch to get it all done before the family returned from their outing. Surprising the boys late on Christmas Eve with Santa Claus the movie. Crispy creme donuts for breakfast. Heating on, lights on the tree twinkling, oranges adorned with cloves sitting on the radiator to give us the scent of Christmas, briefly at least. In pyjamas by 4.30pm, square knitted blankets over our knees. Playing 'into the groove' on vinyl from the immaculate collection double album and relating to these words more than ever ... 'only when I'm dancing do I feel this free …'. Tidying the square knitted blankets and crocheted pile after the littlest one leaves them dangling in the airing cupboard after finally managing to reach for one. Repeat. Singing in the shower when one boy enters to use the lavatory and stays ... for a long time. Then the other boy runs in and out of the bathroom shouting 'I can see your boobies' whilst I sing louder and louder with my eyes tightly closed 'redemption song, redemption song'. Bubble & Squeak for breakfast. Reindeer biscuits from a friend for those boys of mine and the memory of their sweet gingerbread breath. Enjoying evenings looking at the christmas tree and remembering the people who gave baubles as gifts. Lounging around reading books in new book nooks. That wooden advent calendar that Aunty Alison gave the eldest all those years ago, how it makes them smile especially when pockets are filled with chocolate coins. Sparkly conifers hanging on a tree at my friends house. Football annuals and a jar full of smarties. Breaking tradition and serving crispy duck at christmas lunch time. Staying in pyjamas all day long on christmas day. Walking hand in hand and watching those boys of ours cycle into the wind on their new bikes. Trips to the cinema in our twosomes. Too much popcorn at the cinema and a promise to myself 'never again' … till next time. The eldest boys face after watching The Hobbit - The desolation of Smaug. The squeezes that the youngest boy gave my hand whilst watching 'Frozen' and that moment that he climbed into my lap. The cosy times on the sofa watching film after film. The afternoon that I made them watch christmas with the cranks and how they indulged me and how I identified with Mr. Crank. Hearing and watching them play in their room and remembering once more what it is to be growing up. The quiet of this Christmas has been the sweetest sound, so loud and clear, so cosy to be in our own home. We may just do this every year.
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