Sending Christmas presents back to NZ is the biggest faff. I end up spending more on the postage than the bloody gift. Every year I say I’m going to spend more on birthday presents for my family, finding personal gifts for them on their special day. And I do. And then October (it starts earlier each year. When I’m 40 we’ll have Christmas carols in July) roles around and Christmas vomits all over London and I feel the desire to buy them gifts to send home. I even spoke to mum and said we’d take it easy on gifts this year, seeing as I was home for Christmas last year and took gifts. And then she messages me this week to say she’d popped something in the post to the boyfriend and I, so clearly we’re doing gifts and she’s broken from the original plan. Like, seriously, we’re all just swapping cash?! Don’t get me wrong, I’m no Grinch. Christmas is by far my favourite of all the commercially flooded holidays – I love giving gifts, finding something perfect for my favourite people. But the idea of hitting the shops in London to find said wonder-gift instils me with fear.
This weekend we have decided to brave the already-mad shoppers and busloads of tourists to get to Harrods. Mostly because I want to buy their Christmas mince pies and gorge on them before December even arrives (totally not Whole 30 approved, but I’ve done my 30 days and want to celebrate Christmas properly, in November AND December), but also because the older members of my family love the biscuits and tea from there. Plus Harrods have super cute baby things for my beautiful, new niece, who no doubt is going to win the present lottery this year.
All I want for Christmas this year is a packet of Tim Tams, a new Christmas jumper and for my boyfriend to sit through the entire Sound of Music film, while I sing along in anticipation of our trip to Salzburg at New Years. What’s on your Christmas list?