Christmas 2017

I decided to write my whole Day on Christmas, vlog style. 

We all decided last night that we would start opening up gifts  at 9AM.  By "We", I mean my Dad and my three brothers. 

     "SO, 9AM is the deal?, we will all be awake at 9AM and we will start unwrapping the presents. Deal"? , my Dad announced the night before. 

    "Deal", we all agreed.  

So, here I am at 9.30, sitting in front of the tree wide awake by myself,  with a coffee in my hand, waiting patiently for my siblings so wake up. It turns out that nobody can stick to  deals made in this household. 

(We have a rule that we are not allowed to wake people up on Christmas. We have to all wake up naturally) 

10:00.
Slowly, every one awakes and makes their way out of their bedrooms and into the lounge room. We are now waiting on Liam to get himself out of bed.

     "His awake!", I argue with my parents who say that he is still asleep. I can tell he is awake because his Facebook Messanger is set to "ONLINE". My Mum walks over to his bedroom and opens  his bedroom door and I peer around the corner to him, wide awake in his bed, on his phone. 

      "Hurry up and get out of bed!", I say

 He groans. (He is NOT an early morning person) and joins us sitting around the Christmas Tree. 

10:01.
         "ITS TIME!", shouts my Dad, giving us permission. 

10:03.
We all hesitate. Not wanting to be the first one to dive underneath the tree. We do this every year. The hesitation; none of us wanting to show how excited we truly are to rip open these presents. There is always a moment where we sit all gathered around the tree waiting for the other person to go first.

My oldest brother, Cory gives in first and we all follow suit.
We all slowly pick up parcels that have our names addressed on them. Opening them delicately and filled with glee and joy.

        "Oh, THIS IS WHAT I WANTED".
        "THIS IS GREAT!"
        "YAY! CHOCOLATE".

"..is that another art book?, asks my Dad as I open my second small A5 journal.
I turn to him and nod, "YEP!" I say enthusiastically. 

In  the presents I find my Passport  and my  International travel  bank cards. Santa  knew I am going to China!

I get to the back of the tree, where all the clothes and shoes are wrapped up. Last year I felt so anxious and terrified of this part. The "cloths part".  I was scared of receiving shorts and T-shirts; terrified that  my Mum will ask: "how come your not wearing those shorts I brought you for Christmas", and me not being able to come up with an excuse. 

This year, I rip open parcels  finding t-shorts, spaghetti-strapped dresses and shorts not being afraid to find a day to wear them.

10:30.

The remains of the wrapping paper loiter the ground like snow. I could dive right into it and make a snow angel. Everyone has finished unwrapping their gifts and the lounge room is truly a pigsty 

11:00.
"You look pretty", Dad says to me.  

And I feel weird because: 1) he never says that and 2) I believe him.

I decided that this years "Christmas outfit" would be a beautiful, red knee length patterned dress with a brown belt. (A dress I received for Christmas) combined with a brown and red flower bracelet and a matching headband.
There are only two occasions were I were I take my time doing my makeup: my birthday and Christmas. My eyes look fancy with eye liner and eye shadow delicately spread over them. (I'M proud of my art makeup skills. I normally suck) . My hair is placed on top on my head in a big messy knot. 

I actually do look pretty. 

12.00

I am testing out my brand new Artist 0.4mm fineliners in my journal when my sister calls my Mum. 

They are on the phone for a while and I expect to have the phone delivered over to me when my Mum finishes.  

12.25

My Dad is outside trying to figure out how to work his brand new BBQ. He has already installed it and it sits prestigiously  in out back yard. Everything is so neat and tidy; the lawns have been mowed, the outside table has been cleaned; the shed has been tidied up. Everything is so neat and tidy.

It's so nice to see my Dad so cheerful and happy. He has Christmas carols chiming in the background, from the large TV and he is happily humming along. It makes me smile seeing him like this. 

Even the dogs are getting into the spirit. Charlie and Jessie are running hysterically up and down the drive way chancing after their brand new tennis ball that they received from Santa Paws. 

            "BRING.IT HERE!", I shout to Charlie, who has the tennis ball in his mouth. He stops still and runs up me at full speed, jumping up onto me and collapses on my lap.  He weighs a tonn but he doesn't know  how heavy he is when he jumps on me.  He drops the tennis ball right in front of me as if to say: "Merry Christmas. I give you ball with my slobber on it" and demands cuddles.We lay together on the couch for a while, me feeling his warmth and his love. 

 

12. 35. 

I turn to my other dog, Jessie to find that she is ripping into the Christmas tinsel that we had decorated Charlie in. 

1:15 

My brother, Liam thinks he knows every single country flag that there is. 

             "I don't think you do," I say , "GO on Quiz me!" Liam demands. 

I storm into my room and grab the second hand Atlas that I brought from a second hand shop last year, and flip over to the page that displays all the countries flags.

"Morroco!" I say
"Red with a green star", he replies.

"Pakistan!"
"White and green with a white moon-thiny and a star."

"Norway!"
"Red, white, and blue" 

"China!"
"Red with 5 yellow stars. One big one and 4 small one" 

"Zimbabwe"
"White,Green, Orange, Red, and Black"

"Nigeria"
"Green and white"

Finally, I declare that he is somehow cheating because he gets all the flags correct and the game is over. 

1:50. 

Our "Christmas Lunch" is looking more like a "Christmas pre-dinner", because it is nearly two o clock and all the food still remains in the fridges, untouched. 

       "Dad will start cooking soon," Mum says.

The party is down the shed. Where the Christmas carols are still chiming and the dogs are still racing around with excitement. My Pop has just arrived and  Cory, Dad, and Liam are playing eight-ball tournaments against each other. My Pop is winning. 

2:00

My Dad tries to get us all to play a "family round" of darts but fails miserably. Nobody really wants to play.  

Mitchell has been in his room since we unwrapped our presents. Mum tries to coach him out and into the shed where everyone is, but he refuses. I just hope he will come out when the food is cooked, unlike last year.

2:17. 

I'm in my room now. I got sick of my Dad trying to pursue me to play with him and my pop trying to convince me to drink. I know they mean well. 

It's moments like this where I miss my sister. I want to talk to her (In fact, I always want to talk to her) but I know she's too busy. Busy with her partner and their family doing new traditions and, laughing and having more fun than she would be here. I'm sad that she didn't talk to me when she called Mum, but I get it. She's busy with her new life. Maybe she will call back later.  Maybe.

2:42. 

I go into Mitchell's room to find him in bed,already exhausted. His eyes half closed. 

        "Whatcha doing?", I say in my sing-song voice. "Nothin", he says flatly; emotionless. "Sleepy?" I ask.  "Something like that", he replies, and closes his eyes.  

(AND this is exactly why I worry about him )

3:08. 

     "WHEN can we eat the cake??", I whine to my Mum. 

We have a Maltesers cheesecake , and a mint chocolate ripple  cake waiting in the fridge and I want more than anything to put them both in my mouth and gobble them up. The desserts are the best thing about Christmas.
             "When we finish with the BBQ", my mum replies as she flips some hamburgers and some sausages on my Dad's brand new BBQ.  My Mum is in control of the BBQ, with my Dad occasionally "taking charge". 

I am snuggled up on the couch with Charlie, with my art journal on my lap doodling away with my brand new fineliners watching as my Pop, Dad, and two brothers play tormentors against each other in darts and eight-ball, but not playing ANY attention to them.

3: 20. 

"WHATS THAT NOISE!", my Pop roars as the Collingwood anthem starts blaring through a device on the bench behind him. 

         "IT'S your phone, pop! ", my brother says and passes the phone over to my pop. 

          "Ello?". 

My Pop talks to who ever was on the other line, hangs up and looks back at us. 

"Didn't know it could do that", he says quizzically and we all laugh because my Pop can be funny sometimes. 

3:30

My Pop looks over at me, I am in full "Art mode", doodling with my brand new fine liners. "Whatcha drawin' " he asks. 

"Just lines and circles", I reply, looking down at my sheet of paper, which is legit just lines and circles. 

"Just Lines and circles, eyy!, That's what all the good artists say". 

I roll my eyes at his compliment. 

3:40

"LINNNN!" , Dad bellows. 

Mum turns her attention to Dad. "Yeah", 

"Look at this." Dad says as he  snatches my journal out from my lap," You could make this your next tattoo!" he says waving my journal in my Mum's direction. 

This is the nicest my Dad has ever been to me, it feels strange. 

4:03 

We are surrounded by a table filled with meat. WE EVEN HAVE CUTE SANTA PLATES to go along with the occasion.  I am more excited about the plates than the food. They are so adorableeeee!

We sit around the outside dinning table. (My Pop is not eating because he is drinking alcohol and he doesn't eat when he drinks. )

So it's just me, my Mum, Dad, and two brothers: Liam and Cory. 

They talk about who took the Maltesers off the top of the cheesecake and the boys talk about how Dad "sucks at darts".  I don't really talk. Charlie looks at us eating our Lunch, drooling every time we open out mouth and eat more and more.  THOSE EYES... I just couldn't help it; throughout the meal (I ADMIT THIS AND I WILL ADMIT IT IN FRONT OF A JUDGE), I threw pieces of sausage through the gate for him.

Mitchell didn't come out. 

. 

After we have had enough meat to eat Mum and I go inside to retrieve the two cakes.

My Mum cuts the cakes up in equatable slices and puts them on the adorable Christmas paper plates. 

My oldest brother makes the mistake of eating too much for Lunch and not leaving enough for dessert. 

    "I can't eat all of this", he admits. 

    "Can I!?" , I say excitedly 

    "Are you sure you can fit it in?", my oldest brother asks.  I give him a side ward glance and unbuckle my belt. "There is ALWAYS room for extra cake!" I triumph . Everyone laughs.

*Spoiler alert, I could not fit it in but DO NOT TELL my brother that*

4:15 (Approx) 

My sister finally calls. It's a quick call to say Merry Christmas and to ask what we are doing. 

She's in new Zealand now with her Partner. She's had Christmas breakfast, Christmas Lunch and is about to have Christmas Dinner when she calls.  

It is SO nice to hear her voice 

4:33. 

I retreat back inside for some peace and quite. It's getting loud in the shed and the music has went from Christmas Carols to Ed Shean with my family members singing along. 

I ate WAY to much and now I am suffering from a serious case of "Food Coma".

Mitchell is fully awake and eating Lunch inside away from everyone else.

And it's moments like this that make me feel like the worlds worst sister.  Why can't I just get into his brain and make things OK for him? 

6.50
Well...  It's not Christmas without a Christmas nap because I'm an introverted owl.  IT WAS A GOOD NAP!  And it should a law that every one is allowed one quilt free nap on Christmas day. 

I walk out to the shed. Pop is getting ready to leave and  is gathering all his things and all the gifts we had given him. 
      "Until next Christmas ", he says and  we wave him goodbye and watch him walk out the gate. 

Dad, Cory, and Liam are playing eight-ball and my littlest dog is running up and down the table wanting the balls, thinking that if they so happen to roll of the table she can have them and chew them to pieces. She keeps running up and down the length of the table and it makes me laugh, she wants those balls! 

10:00 

My little cousins come over with their parents . They are aged three,  seven, and nine.  They are still winded up with so much energy from all the days sugar and excitement and are not tired at all. (GOOD LUCK to my aunty and uncle with putting them to bed!) 

"Look what SANTA BROUGHT ME. LOOK WHAT SANTA BROUGHT ME!", they all boost waving varied devices and gadgets in my face.  

      "Oh WOWW", I  reply happily, with that tone of voice you use for small children.

They tell me about how  Santa came to them in the morning, about how they spent their day playing with new toys, and about how happy they  are.

We exchange Christmas gifts and Christmas cards.

We blow bubbles and see how far they can fly above our heads  and pretend they they are capable of never popping. The kids dance around trying to "catch" the bubbles in their small, delicate hands. 

We blow up balloons and laugh as my three year old cousin tries her hardest to blow up balloons with us, but her tiny lungs can't do it.

I take a marker from the ledge and draw a face of a cat on one of the blown up balloons. 

             "A KITTY!" cries Lexi, my three year old cousin, reaching her tiny hands across the table for the balloon. 

          "Draw a doggy. Draw a doggy. Draw a doggy", she demands. I grab a nearby balloon that somebody had blown up and draw a floppy eared dog poking it's tongue out and hand it over to my excited three year old cousin. 

She holds a pink balloon with red maker in her hands. "JAZZY DREW ME A DOGGGG! A DOG BALLOON " and starts waving the balloon hysterically around us. She pretends it's a real dog and starts mimicking barking sounds:  " AROOF. AROOF. AROOF", she yells  adorably.

This is why I love Christmas. The magic. The creativity. The imagination. If I ever have children, I hope to god, they never lose the magic that my family has outgrown. 

11:30. 

It's time for bed. It's been a big day. 

~~_~_~_~_~_~_~

13 more days until My birthday! 

23 more days until I go to China!