How can it possibly be 23rd December??? Eek. We should have been down in Wiltshire today visiting one of Monkey’s godmum’s who’s recovering from an operation. But with the severe weather warnings she asked us not to make the journey. Although we were gutted not to see her and her little girl, I think it was probably for the best. It gave us time to finally make some mince pies and got me thinking of Christmas past.
These photos were taken on 25th December 2009, Monkey was 15 days old – his first Christmas.
This is Monkey, in his Moses basket, wearing a lovely red velour reindeer sleep suit, a present from his other godmum, with his Winnie-the-Pooh, a present from me.
I don’t actually have many clear memories of this particular Christmas past. At the time Monkey was barely sleeping at night at all, I’m sure I was a zombie on that particular Christmas Day.
Luckily Daddy P’s sister had invited us for Christmas dinner, with the instructions ‘come when you like, eat what you want, leave when you want, don’t worry about anything’. I was really grateful, to not have to think about cooking, to not worry if Monkey screamed all the way through dinner (luckily he slept right through it), to know we could leave when we wanted, that no-one would mind if I wasn’t looking my best. I think I actually had a sleep while we were there.
Monkey’s first Christmas was spent with family. He was a star, I do remember that. He had lots of cuddles with his Auntie and Uncle, his cousins and their children loved having a new little one to sit with too.
That Christmas past is almost a blur, something that should be marked, but can barely be remembered. Unlike Monkey’s second Christmas, which we’ll never forget! Snow storms, cancelled flights, tearful calls to Spain, getting there in the end and enjoying a Spanish Christmas – but that’s a whole different What’s the Story? post.