Boxing Day boxes

I hope everyone is having a lovely holiday time. We started yesterday in a rather wonderful reversal of the last 14 or so years: we had to drag the man child, Son, from his bed at 8.30am to open his stocking; I told him flat that it was revenge for the real crack of dawn starts to so many recent Christmases... Our day consisted of stockings, Christmas creatures, present opening, food, Luther series 2 and skyping family.

Clever Husband knows how much I love boxes and two of my gifts came in such beautiful boxes that I consider them presents in their own right. I am easily pleased...

When do you open your presents?

When Husband was growing up, his family adopted the Christmas customs of their close friends who were Danish.  They had a special meal on Christmas Eve and then they opened their presents.

It was nice when we were ‘going out’ because I could spend the evening of the 24^th with his family and at the crack of dawn on 25^th I could hare around the M25 and arrive at my own home and I hadn’t missed anything because my family don’t open presents until after lunch on Christmas Day. (Realistically this could be as late as 3 or 4pm…)

When we got married we spent our early Christmas doing the same thing. I’m sure all parties were delighted there was no ‘them and us’ going on.

But when we had children and had one or two Christmases on our own, we had to negotiate.

So I told Husband, “I’m NOT opening my presents on Christmas Eve; that’s just crazy.” Poor Husband.

We have a special Christmas Eve meal (his tradition) which starts the festivities off early (my family might still be shopping for gifts at this point) and we have a table present (his tradition.) We do the altogether more average present opening after breakfast on the 25^th (more my tradition.) We have the Christmas Creatures (my tradition.)

One of the customs I have willingly adopted from Husband’s upbringing is the family Christmas game. They had a new board game each year and yesterday I went out and bought ours:

Births and shopping

I have a problem. It’s Husband’s birthday in five (shopping) days, and I haven’t bought any presents. The UDD – Red Shirts – are camped out along the main shopping route in Bangkok and yesterday, the following malls were closed: Siam Paragon, CentralWorld, Siam Center, Siam Discovery, Big C Rajadamr, Gaysorn Plaza, Amarin Center. Today, tension is mounting; there are troops collecting and the malls (at least some of them) are still closed. It reminds me of another birthday of Husbands when I was almost as badly organized …

Seventeen years ago I had to be extra ready for Husband’s birthday because I was enormously pregnant with our first child. The discrepancy between the hospital due date and my due date was four weeks (yes, impossible, but I did exactly the same thing with Daughter’s pregnancy. I think I am more like an elephant than a human when it comes to gestating babies.) So having less idea than most when our baby would come, I had tried to be prepared. I had just about finished buying his presents and they were hidden away waiting to be wrapped.

So of course on the Sunday, the day before his birthday, my waters broke. It was inevitable, wasn’t it? They kept me in hospitable waiting for me to go into labour. The day passed by; Sunday night came and then Husband was going to go home for some sleep because they kept telling me I wasn’t in labour yet: “WHY ALL THE PAIN THEN?” I told Husband that he’d have to find his own presents. I told him where they were hidden and apologized for their not being wrapped. Monday morning came and Husband reappeared in the maternity unit. I wished him a happy birthday and then the day was all about me.

Son came that night at 7.30pm. He was a furry little thing. He had hair everywhere, including his back (gone now) and dark downy patches that grew into points on his ears a la Star Trek (also gone.) He was also covered in vernix – a pale waxy substance; that and the hair would suggest my dates were right and Son was earlier than 40 weeks.

As though I hadn’t entirely stolen Husband’s thunder already, I proceeded to hemorrhage following the birth. I do feel the need, after all that drama, to make a fuss of Husband each year as well.

Of course producing a son on your husband’s birthday is the ultimate in birthday presents… but he’s shared it with his son for seventeen years so far and at the very least I’d like to have some presents for the poor man to open. (Son’s presents are all organized already because he knew what he wanted.)

Presence and Presents

My homecoming was lovely.

There were hugs (lots of them); a Welcome Home banner and, as I’d been in the UK for my birthday, a pile of presents and cards to open. (And then it was right back into Mummy work - sorting out some homework that was due the next day! It was almost as though I’d never been away…)

The presents were thoughtful and lovely and I shouldn’t single out any… but… during half term Son had been to Borneo to climb Mount Kinabalu as part of his Silver International Award (I’m sure you remember the dramas I made of his first trip: it’s odd, but Son and Husband didn’t make nearly such a big fuss about organising this leg!) Any way, look what Son brought me back:

Camellia Sinensis Black Tea from the foothills of Mount Kinabalu! Yum. Very lovely tea it is too.

Rrrghhh

See here and here for the Suvarnabhumi (Bangkok airport) reference. All my domestic worries fade in to insignificance by comparison.