Rediscovering the 'Me' in 'Mumeeeeeee'

'I have always thought that there is no more fruitful source of family discontent than a housewife’s badly-cooked dinners and untidy ways'. (Mrs Beeton's Book of Household Management, 1861)

November 26, 2012

Missing: Christmas Magic. If found, please return.

I haven't posted an 'opinion piece' here on Hot Cross Mum for a while. There are many reasons why, some of which involve being limited to a meagre 24 hours in a day, some of which involve young boys hi-jacking my laptop and some of which involve pursuing my dream of being a proper, grown up historical fiction author, but anyway, I find myself needing to rant about Christmas and I feel that Hot Cross Mum is the best place for me to do this.

Rant about Christmas, I hear you cry! But why? Well, it's because of this - magic - or rather, the lack thereof. Perhaps I'm looking at Christmas through glitter and snowflake tinted glasses, but it all seems to have gone a bit, well, blah. Here's why:

1. It all starts far too early. Whatever about the shops stocking selection boxes in October, actual people have already put up their trees. I don't want to see Christmas trees in November - I want to see them at Christmas. Please!

2. Toy cataloguesI honestly don't remember a time in my childhood when I flicked through a toy catalogue to help me choose what to put on my list to Santa (the artist formerly known as Father Christmas). Put the catalogues down children. Step away from the catalogues.

3. Santa lists. Didn't these used to be sent up the chimney on Christmas eve? Now they're written and posted before the end of November and there is a special post box for them in the local Eurospar. From a practical point of view yes, I get this: we all know what 'Santa' is bringing and can get on with the shopping. But it still makes me want to poke rusty nails in my eyes.

4. Visits to Santa. I heard a conversation in a shop over a week ago where someone was saying they were going to see Santa at 'The North Pole' (somewhere in rural Ireland). They explained to their friend that they felt it was a bit early, but that was the only time they could get a booking, as the other slots were sold out since September. Maybe it's just me, but this feels wrong on so many levels.

5. Chocolate advent calenders. I've ranted about this before and I will rant again. Please bring back lovely, traditional, non choc advent calenders which have a Christmassy picture behind each window and a Christmassy scene on the front. Moshi Monsters and Angry Birds simply have no right to be on an advent Calender. Humph.

Maybe I'm deluding myself, maybe I'm a snotty, grumpy old cow, but Christmas seems to have all gone so hideously commercial. I even found myself staring wistfully at Christmas jumpers yesterday in a desperate attempt to get back to some good old-fashioned festiveness. Ah well, there's always hope I suppose that in a week or so, when I find the Christmas CDs in the attic and start making cinnamon cookies and I pour myself a 'small' glass of port, something may stir within and that old Christmas magic might just find its way down the chimney. Here's hoping ... bah humbug.



  1. With you on ALL of that HCM - but especially on the advent calendars. Especially as my mother in law insists on giving one to the children every year. Yes, why not? Let's start the day with a chocolate hit for the kids, why don't we (because we all know that there is NO way an over-excited 9 & 6 year old will wait until after school for them). Bring back the door opening onto a picture of a robin on branch, or present under the tree, I say. Altogether now: Bah Humbug!

    1. Oh, I hear you, Potty! I'd even forgive the token, rubbish picture of a bauble behind one of the windows (there was ALWAYS one) if we could get away from the chocolate infestation. It's not as if the chocolate is even nice chocolate.

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  3. Love it! Agree with every point. Christmas is way too commercial x

  4. Yes! I think most of us agree, but don't know what to do about it. It's like we're caught up in a conspiracy and can't escape.

    Whatever happened to presents being a surprise? I don't remember writing a letter to Santa being part of my childhood.


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