So it’s gone midnight. It’s Christmas. We’ve sorted the presents into piles and I’m sitting here looking at them all feeling pretty glum.
We’ve spent so much this year it’s ridiculous! Birthday, Christmas x2 and Santa x2 was expensive. So why am I feeling so utterly rubbish and nervous for tomorrow?! The piles of stuff is pretty low.
When I was growing up my Mum used to fill a pillow case with presents from Santa. I’d be so excited and have them all opened before 7am. Then she’d have her bundle of presents too. It was such a magical time of the year.
Facebook/Twitter/Instagram are filled with everyone’s photos of presents piled high, Christmas trees and wonderful gifts waiting to be opened. Our tree isn’t big enough to fit anything underneath and it’s just our lounge covered in presents. Nothing overly exciting!
This is why I’m feeling lame and guilty and jealous?! I want a tradition. A family tradition. My girls have piles of presents – no pillow case, no giant sack to use every year, no magical Santa footprints made out of flour. Plus, the present quantity isn’t exactly fantastic either for the amount of money spent.
Kids just don’t understand money. But they do understand magic. I wish I’d made just a little more effort into making Christmas magical and special. I’m such a bad mum!
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