For tradition's sake

Christmas is an elaborate production. The sheer brilliance of it is that everyone collaborates in one way or another - whether that's buying presents, sending cards, or perpetuating the magic of Santa. The festival is one massive, co-ordinated effort across the nation and most of us opt in without even questioning it. The results are spectacular: from the gorgeous lights illuminating our town centres to crazy knitted jumpers, Secret Santa, fairs, parties and the decorated trees adorning our homes.

My first ever Christmas wreath!

As each year passes, I get more practised at keeping my end up. I now have processes in place (start the cards early; book online shopping slots in November) to make life easier. I know what's expected and I deliver. It helps that it's the same show every year because - let's be honest - I'm not much of an innovator. I follow the time-honoured plan and streamline efficiencies where I can.

In the pink

A friend and I were discussing what I should buy her little girl for Christmas. We hit upon Lego. "Friends Lego, the pink stuff?" I clarified nervously. She grimaced apologetically: "Yes, I think she'd like it. It would make a change from all her brother's kits." We both experienced that twitchy, self-correcting thought - in this 'woke' world of new feminism, should we really be buying our girls pink Lego?

Are pink roses just for girls?

The fact is my daughter enjoyed her pink Lego back in the day and I suspect this little girl would too. I'm guessing the 'Friends-themed' Lego range wouldn't have expanded as quickly as it has, if it didn't sell. The treehouses, camper vans and art studios, all decked out in pastel shades, are clearly designed to appeal to a feminine sensibility. Heck, I probably would have loved Friends Lego too as a child, had it been around then. 

Moving on

Closing the door on the past

It's finally happening. After three years of viewing properties and hoarding house particulars, we are on the move. Let's not get carried away, it's only five minutes down the road, but this is a BIG deal for us! Most people would be super-excited (and we are) but we're also feeling a little bit funny inside... It's us after all. Our family is not known for its gung-ho, fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants approach to life. There's just too much fretting to fit in.

How to boost your brain power

Book Review

These days a working knowledge of nutrition has become part of a parent's job description. I'm forever persuading my kids to eat pro-biotic yoghurt, oily fish and crispy kale, with varying degrees of success. If you want to be healthy... I tell them nine times a day. But imagine if you could eat your way to feeling happier, less stressed and more motivated?

The Brain Boost Diet Plan by Christine Bailey is the latest lifestyle-come-recipe book to promise us good health by cutting out gluten and refined sugar. The book is based on the premise that with the right diet, it takes four weeks to optimise your mood, memory and brain health. 

But before you roll your eyes and mutter - not another one - this book is worth a peek. Grounded in nutritional science, it contains a four-step programme to cleanse and revitalise your brain, with lots of tasty recipes that are relatively easy to prepare. It is also well-laid out with plenty of charts, infographics and glossy photographs.

On reflection...

You know it's Christmas when...

Credit: William Lam

you lose track of time
your belly feels permanently distended

you eat Quality Street instead of supper

you empty the dishwasher twice a day

you run out of underwear 

you pick pine needles out of your jumper

there's no more space in the recycling bin

you start talking about a 'dry January'

you play board games with the kids

you find shreds of wrapping paper under the sofa

you have to unpack the fridge every time you want the milk
you tolerate a Lego super-structure in the middle of your kitchen

you eat re-fried sprouts until the end of December

Meditations on a festive theme

Hermaphrodite Mum
Three kids and a single mum

My children still believe in Father Christmas - even the eldest one, aged 12. It amazes me that I have managed to hoodwink them this long, without inadvertently spilling the beans. To be honest, it's killing me. I just want to shout: "HE DOESN'T EXIST!" It's me - my darlings - your dear, old mama, who excels in wish-fulfilment. 

When to put up the tree?

But, of course, I can't. There is magic and excitement to be maintained. If I told them it was Mummy filling their stockings each year, their little eyes would roll over with disappointment and ennui. 

Instead, I adopt the psychology of a serial adulterer, secretly hoping to be found out one day. I use the same wrapping paper for the stockings fillers as I do for the 'main' presents around the tree, in the hope that they will rumble me. I even leave price labels on sometimes. Last year, Middle Child idly remarked, "Oh look, Father Christmas shops at John Lewis. Isn't that funny?"

A taste-maker for Xmas

People watching: 
Kate Williams, founder of Handpicked by Kate

Some years ago, I was introduced to a young woman at a party. Around her neck, she wore a golden bumblebee, which instantly caught my eye. The necklace I coveted was by Alex Monroe, a brand I hadn't heard of at the time. It was my first (but not last) encounter with this quirky, British jewellery-designer and also with Kate Williams, one of those effortlessly stylish women who was clearly a taste-maker. 

Kate Williams: 'I really love design'

When I discovered that Kate recently set up her own website, Handpicked by Kate, selling a range of brands that she has selected herself, it didn't come as a surprise. "I really love design," she tells me. "Friends used to come to me and say, 'Where can I get a good throw?'" The 28-year old had always wanted to set up something on her own and decided to realise her dream by creating an online boutique.

Top tips for this Xmas and the next one...

People watching: 

Neil Nugent, executive chef for Morrisons

Gingerbread houses are expected to be BIG this year

Every year it feels like Christmas kicks off earlier than the previous year. All of us have a friend who has written her cards by the end of the November, or completed her Christmas shopping a month ahead of schedule, or got the tree up on the first day of December. Well, beat this Xmas keenos: I recently met someone who signed off on his Christmas back in April! In fact he's already preparing for next year. I'm talking about Morrisons' very own father of Christmas, Neil Nugent, otherwise known as the supermarket's executive chef. "Christmas is over for me now," he told me at the BritMums bloggers' Xmas do this week. "I'm on next year now."

The chef, who was poached from Waitrose by Morrisons in 2011, has signed off on 972 product launches for Christmas, all of which have been personally tasted over a period of time. Now he is waiting with bated breath to see whether we (the customers) will warm to his festive feast. "My neck's on the block for the range," he admitted, perhaps mindful of his 42-week old turkeys about to meet their doom. 

Old acquaintance be forgot?

In amongst the mobile ringtones and the ping of my computer, there is a new sound in our house: the shuffle of a letterbox opening and the plippety-plop of many envelopes falling to the floor. 

Where once I might have left the bank statements languishing on the doormat for days, now I pounce upon the Christmas cards with relish. There is something satisfying about those handwritten envelopes and the promise of what lies within: news, photos and tidbits about a life on the other side of the world.

Christmas is many things, but in my mind it has become a time to consolidate friendships. Facebook does a good job of tending the outer circle, but Christmas cards can reach beyond that network to aunts and uncles, childhood chums and even old work colleagues. The sort of people you rarely see anymore, but still like to hear from.

Messages from auld acquaintance

The memories I share with these acquaintances make up the patchwork of my past. Our interaction is proof of another self that I inhabited years ago - now evolved but not quite shed. Each snippet of news also reminds me of how life plods on outside my narrow sphere - children grow up, marriages are made and broken, loved ones pass away. 

Robert Burns expressed something of this in his poem about remembering long-standing friendships. As one year ends and another begins, it has become a tradition to take stock of the communities that surround us.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot, 
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot, 
And auld lang syne! 

In this age of efficiency, Christmas cards have also managed to outlast the grasping tendrils of technology. The joy of slow communication has seen a resurgence recently, and aside from a few typed newsletters, cards still bear a written hand and travel the old-fashioned way. Admittedly they are arduous to write, but cards received bring a tangible token of friendship onto our thresholds.

Emma Clark Lam is the author of A Sister for Margot

Mother Christmas

It is that time of year again. I work myself to a standstill and then some old guy in a red suit takes all the credit. Worse still, I am complicit in perpetuating the lie. Thanks to my dishonesty, my son fervently believes Santa is up there with the superheroes.

I hate to bring feminism into this, but how can we ever achieve equality between the sexes when women bear the brunt of Operation Christmas?

Santa gets all the credit
© Photographer: Lisa F. Young | Agency: Dreamstime.com

Stockings √

Presents (includes wrapping and delivery) √

Christmas cards (includes post office queueing) √

Decorations √

Food shopping √

Cooking of Xmas lunch √

General list management √

Phew! And that's on top of normal life and all the other grey, nameless chores women accomplish in a working week. We are the unsung heroes of Christmas logistics. 

Still, there is something contagious about the excitement building in our house. Letters to Santa are being penned and theories on how he manages to get round all of those homes in one night are being expounded. For the little people, Christmas is stupendous - a heady mix of magic, wakefulness and wish-fulfillment. I am not so jaundiced that I can't remember the heart-thumping thrill of Christmas Eve.

I just wish we stayed a little closer to the truth and called our festive superhero 'Mother Christmas'. Maybe kids would even believe in her existence for a little longer. Because let's face it - only a woman could juggle that many baubles and get home to cook the turkey.

Emma Clark Lam is the author of A Sister for Margot