Christmas is about Watermelon Vodka Slushies (and other important stuff)

Christmas is over! I got back from Bali nine days before Christmas and hit the busiest work week in a long time. Monday night I worked until 1am with one of my wonderful staff just so we could make a deadline and then have two days off before Christmas Day.

Two days to shop, clean and prepare for Christmas Day where we hosted the family Christmas Brunch and Lunch.

Last year I was the most horrible host. I decided, obviously due to my own guilt complex, that I would create a Christmas extravaganza including 4 courses of complex, but delicious, Christmas fare. I think I wanted to prove that, even though I work 50 hours most weeks, that I was also a domestic goddess. I drove my family, particularly my husband, crazy. I was completely stressed and frantic about making lunch perfect. The food was amazing but I was a mess!

This year, my husband insisted that I didn’t ruin the day with a stressful lunch, so this time we shared the load – with everyone. My husband is the Roast King – so he took responsibility for the Roast Pork, my dad bought the ham and the pudding, my brother was responsible for bread, my aunty did her legendary trifle, my sister and brother in law did a chicken salad and a delicious Spanish omelette. I concentrated on some fancy canopies, and my renown watermelon vodka slushies, plus the salads and pasta bake.

I know my family have conspired to ensure Christmas lunch was less stressful this year because every time I went to the kitchen, someone anxiously raced to pour me another drink and lead me back to a chair. I must have been a complete cow last year! (My husband assures me that I was).

The moral seems to be that no one needs me to be Martha Stewart, everyone would rather I enjoy the Watermelon Vodka Slushies with them rather than hovering around them to collect the glasses to get into the pre-dinner wash-up load. The kids would rather I relax than be fussing about them having their room spotless and all of their Christmas booty packed away for the visitors. My husband would rather I laugh and enjoy the day than snap at him because he’s in my way in the kitchen.

So…2015 will be less about me trying (and failing dismally) to be super woman. Instead, I’m going to listen to my kids and do the YOLO thing. Funny, that’s exactly what we have being telling them. You only live once – make it count!





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