Lisha Cassibo has been writing for the Uxbridge Cosmos for two years, both as a freelancer and as a columnist. She has also written for several parenting magazines both here in Canada and for English publications in Switzerland. She graduated from Carleton University with an honours degree in Journalism and English Literature. She lives with her family in Sunderland.
A pictkure perfect what?
Tis the season for glossy home décor magazines everywhere to line store checkout shelves with their pictures of Christmas season perfection, and promises of how do to everything just so inside. How to cook the perfect dinner, how to host the perfect party, how to look like the perfect hostess at said perfect party, how to find the perfect gift, how to buy it all under budget, and the list goes on. I'm a bit of a magazine junkie, so even though I am able to take all these wonderful suggestions with a grain of salt, the notion of having everything look like a Style at Home centrefold does take root somewhere deep inside, and I will confess to spending extra time on things so that Canadian Living could walk through my front door at any minute and want to feature me in next year's special holiday issue.
Last week I did my seasonal decorating. I now have a fantastic big kitchen in which to put even more stuff, and had a lot of fun with my four-year-old pulling out decorations that we hadn't seen in a couple of years (we didn't really do much last year, being in full-out reno mode.We were lucky we got the tree up). We cranked the Christmas tunes and set about decking the halls. She “helped”, and in time, we got everything up. My daughter wandered off to play, and I spent some time going about tweaking and pruning, getting everything “just so”.
I had some quiet time the next the day, with everyone else being off at school or doing their thing, so I decided to sit for a minute and just savour my surroundings. I really feel the Christmas spirit this year, and everything just seemed to be off to a wonderful start. I flopped down on the sofa, sighed, smiled, and said a little thank you prayer for a home that gave us such joy and peace. I opened my eyes, only to notice two painted wooden eyes staring back at me. I blinked a couple of times, and noticed that my vintage nutcracker collection was now participating in what seemed to be a rock-out concert hosted by none other than the stuffed, animated Rudolf the Red-nosed Reindeer that I hide the batteries to every year. The nutcrackers seemed to enjoy Rudolf's antics - they were listening with rapt attention, as only nutcrackers can. They were even standing in a line.
I have since begun to look a little more closely at my magazine-worthy decorating job.
Did you know that flamingos were present at the birth of Christ? They somehow made it into my Nativity creche, along with a litter of My Littlest Pet Shop dogs and cats. They, along with Mary and Joseph, are now anxiously awaiting the arrival of the Saviour. Oooh, Polly Pockets decided to come out for it, too! And look! Barbie is going to oversee the event, as she is now an angel, peeking out of the lamp tucked behind the creche. Better make sure her hair doesn't melt on the light bulb.
My fluffy, strategically placed Christmas pillows have grown legs and are constantly creeping upstairs to the bedrooms to be used at nights “so that we have Christmas dreams, Mummy!” I wonder if it works.
The wooden folk artsy nutcracker-style angel I have in the front hall to greet visitors now sports a nifty neon hair scrunchie in her orange-red yarn hair. And a stuffed snowman perched in the living room has Silly Bandz dripping off his pudgy felt arms.
It used to be that I could spend a day on baking all my Christmas treats, and I would have plenty to give away, entertain with and nibble on myself. I now find myself baking almost daily. I can't keep up with the constantly emptying tins!
Just yesterday, a pretty white Christmas towel I have in the upstairs bathroom came wandering downstairs wrapped around my 10-year old's head. She'd just finished a shower, and it apparently was the only towel available.
And the tree. Oh, the tree. Each of my three girls has decided that they will have a “section” of the tree where they will each put their favourite ornaments. The youngest's section is all pinks and purples. The middle one used all the animals. The eldest's is all the sparkly stuff. It looks a little uneven and chunky, and it's constantly changing. The tree has thus far been decorated and redone about 15 times. It only went up yesterday.
It used to be that I would get frustrated over all of this. I would try so hard to keep everything nice that I would blow a Christmas gasket if just one bobble was out of place. I have learned, however, that it just isn't worth it. The girls love to participate, and the season is just too short. They only see these things for a few weeks of the entire year, so as long as not too many nutcrackers lose an arm (I've already done glue gun surgery twice), and as long as Barbie keeps her clothes on while watching over the manger, I don't have a problem with it all.
If Martha Stewart wants to do a piece on Christmas Chaos, then she is more than welcome into my home. Otherwise, we'll have to put off the photo shoot about ten more years.
