An essential Christmas update in March
Our first Christmas at the farm
Two weeks ago, I promised an update on the rodent situation in our house. Then I wondered two things: Did I really want to relive the trauma of sharing my house with furry friends with long tails? And did anyone really want to read about that? For me it's a firm no to both questions, so all you need to know is: the rodents are gone. For now.
It's one of the quirks of living in an old house, like random cracks in the wall and strange unexplained sections of wood hanging haphazardly in odd places. And only having hot water on one side of the house, so carrying plastic tubs of water around period-drama style every time we want to give our son a bath.
Still, I love it. And I have never loved it more than this Christmas. Christmas 2024 was by far the most exciting Christmas I've ever had, and the main reason for that was my son. At age 2 years, 8 months, for the first time, he got Christmas. He understood that a jolly fat man in a red suit with a beard was going to bring him presents. That everyone was going to get presents. That there would be chocolate for breakfast, and many of his favourite people all in one place (see also: the joy of birthdays).
Because our house was previously divided into two and avid readers will know that we smashed down the wall cutting through it, we ended up in the fortunate position of having a living room and then an extra room at the side, which used to be the kitchen. This has now become a playroom for everyone. It contains all the books, various musical instruments that we never have time to play, board games, gym equipment that is slowly gathering dust, and almost all of my son's toys. There's also a fireplace which doesn't work and a few beautiful holes in the floor plus a non-functioning hob because, you know, old house quirks.
The family playroom was designated the Christmas room this year. We put up the tree and all of my son's Christmas artwork. Glitter, glitter everywhere. And on Christmas Eve, my son went to bed, and the eight adults in the house became... Santa.
Who knew that Christmas magic is just as special when you are the one creating it as when you are the one receiving it? We strung up fairy lights all around the room (henceforth known as Santa lights), filled the slippers with chocolates, and the stockings with presents. We left out half a mince pie and carrot with some brandy as evidence that he had been there, and then we all went to bed.
On Christmas morning, I woke at 5.30am. Everyone was still fast asleep, but I didn't want to miss the look on my son's face when he saw the Christmas playroom. I didn't go as far as waking him up, I'm not that much of a masochist, but I did tap my foot impatiently until he started to stir at 7am.
The word of the day was "Regarde!". As my son took in the lights trailing up the stairs, he shouted, "Regarde!" And he repeated the word again and again as he saw Santa's magic in action. It was a word of awe. And I, sleep deprived and morning sick, managed not to cry, but only just. I love Christmas and I love it even more on our farm, where there is a little boy filled with wonder.
Our Christmas playroom. It’s not going to win any design awards, but we like it.