‘Christmas for me is about indulgence, gluttony and Sellotape, but I still love it’

It’s the build-up to Christmas that I love most about the festive period.

I hate, with a passion, that feeling you get once Christmas Day and Boxing Day are over. You know what I liken it to? That feeling I’d imagine one gets the day after your wedding day.

All that planning. All that organisation. The excitement and countdown. And then you wake up the day after you’ve said ‘I do’ with a ‘what now’ realisation.

Once December 27 rolls around, I want to strip my house of all things festive and move on. Christmas is over. We’ve got the New Year to look forward to!

Christmas is just one day and it’s so hyped up. Over in a flash of extreme indulgence, gluttony and Sellotape. Oh, the Sellotape. I do not have the patience for Sellotape.

So, yeah. I love Christmas.  No, really. I do. Especially since I became a parent. It is wonderful to see it through the eyes of a child. It’s just perhaps I miss experiencing it as a child myself.

I have had some eventful Christmases over the years. This one is no exception and I’ve not even treated myself to an eggnog yet.

Last weekend I was doing a snowman trail with my family up Kingswood. I had a lovely weekend of festivities planned with family and friends. And then before I know it, I’m in the RUH in Bath having a light shined in my eyeballs.

I had been taken out by a piece of wood that had blown off a shop roof.

I’m fine. Aside from a cut, a black eye (that’s still there and just looks like I’ve not taken my make up off properly) and some bruising and swelling, I am fine.

I had mild concussion that lasted a couple of days (my head injury leaflet warned me to expect mood swings so I threw myself into being an arsehole for a few days and thoroughly enjoyed it) but I’m fine and considering myself incredibly lucky as my five-year-old was stood right next to me at the time.

Then there was 2008 where I pissed off every member of my family because I turned up to our Christmas dinner which was in a golf club still drunk from the night before.

I hadn’t got home until 7am (walk of shame alert) and took to wrapping all my presents while I was shaking like a constipated dog and waiting to be picked up by my dad. When I look back at photos from that Christmas Day I can see the annoyance in my mum’s eyes.

I also got engaged on Christmas Eve 2012. That was pretty eventful. The proposal took place in the middle of Bath Abbey in front of a load of very enthusiastic tourists who clapped and took photos like I was Kim Kardashian.

I never did get married though. I cancelled both weddings; one of the reasons being I couldn’t justify spending an insane amount of money on just one day. Sound familiar?

Christmas 2014 will always stand out but not for comical or dramatic reasons but just because I wasn’t well. A week later I would suffer a breakdown, a culmination of a year of me suffering from post natal depression.

Looking through photos of that Christmas will always make me feel sad for myself. Because I can remember how I was feeling. And what was to come.

But I recovered and Christmas 2015 will always be one of my most favourites. Because I really appreciated feeling better and spending quality time with friends and family.

This year has flown by. It almost feels like we didn’t have that amazing summer because of all the rain we’ve had to endure since November. And I don’t know about you, but I feel I deserve this break.

I’m looking forward to the evening of Christmas Eve rolling round when my job as Father Christmas is complete, the house is tidy, work is a distant memory and my fake tan soaking in.

Have a good ‘un!

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