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Aah, the end of school term, the start of the holiday season, and what memories holidays bring back…
Picture it, mid eighties, two little ten year old girls on break up day. What bliss – a whole month off! Julia's nanny would fetch us from school and we would walk the short distance to her house (which in those days felt like ten miles). We would rip off our pink school uniforms in favour of our matching Laura Ashley dresses, oh so cute, and spend hours playing My Little Pony, melting chocolate on the stove (we didn't have microwaves in those days) and then sit licking off the chocolately spoons while watching Gummy Bears on KTV. Christmas meant Church in the morning, loads of presents under the tree, nuts on the table, and grannies and grandpas being wrapped around our little fingers. Those were the days!
But of course we got older, headed for high school, and new end of term traditions started… Break up day meant school ending early (the best thing ever!), a bunch of fourteen year olds shoving creased uniforms, blazers, standard issue brown shoes and equally revolting brown socks into gym bags before wafting away in a cloud of Body Mist in designer jeans and belly-baring tops to the nearby mall, where we would spend the afternoon oohing and aahing over clothes that our pocket money would never afford (okay well mine wouldn't) before heading to the local salon to have our eyelashes tinted (in those days it cost me only R15 for what now costs about R60!). School holidays meant sleepovers, movies, the Waterfront, and Sweets from Heaven – bags and bags of it. And Julia and I also spent hours creating all manner of things out of clay and beads, especially tree decorations. Christmas was plate after plate of every food imaginable, lots of girly presents, a small glass of champagne (big stuff I was!) and an afternoon spent listening to my very first CD – Queen's Greatest Hits.
And then I turned 16. My mother's worst nightmare. End of term still meant a trip to the mall, where my R5 entertainment money bought me a burger, chips and milkshake at the Spur, but unlike my friends, there were no tight tops or designer jean in sight. Nosiree. I would never be caught in those. Ever. The order of the day for me was jeans torn at the knee (no accident), a black T-shirt proclaiming my love for whatever metal band was the favour of the day, and… um… yes, a safety pin through my ear (hey I was a teenager rebelling against conformity!). Christmas was still a big affair for everyone else, while I tried hard to be cool and aloof, secretly savouring the last of the chipolatas and revelling in the new Gun's n Roses CD that my parents gave me… perhaps they were coming around after all.
At 17 I met Clayton (my future husband – at his matric dance – long story) and became ‘normal' again. Before I knew it I was 18, finished school, and looking forward to the longest holiday season ever! Oh those varsity vacs. Three whole months of nothing. Sorry to say I was never into waitressing – holidays were for chilling on the beach not working! Christmas again became a grand old affair with all the trimmings, starting with Midnight Mass the night before, followed by a day of presents, food and family. I would wait in anticipation all afternoon for Clayton's imminent arrival, while my brothers constantly teased me with ‘He's not coming. He's forgotten about you!' Nice hey. Of course Clayton always showed with a gift more expensive than his student allowance could afford, and before I knew it we were married in a place of our own starting new traditions!
And then came Christmas with a baby. Who to spend it with? Every grandparent wants to see the baby on Christmas day... Do we do two dinners on the same day, and stuff ourselves stupid to please everyone? I was only just getting over the Caesar, colic was just setting in, and clearly my brain was not functioning, so I agreed to host both families at our house. Thankfully everyone brought food, and fun was had by all, except for poor mom and dad at seven o'clock that night, all alone after a long day with a screaming Megan who had just had too much excitement for one day!
I must say I am really looking forward to Christmas this year. I can't say much about the holidays – being a fulltime mom means that life goes on even when schools break up – in fact us moms resent holidays because it means no more toddler groups for six whole weeks! Help! We will have to make a very concerted effort to get together regularly for our own sanity! But Christmas this year means seeing a two year old's face light up at the Christmas tree, the look of glee at the amount of presents, the whole ‘wow' factor! I am going to be a little kid myself again watching her enjoy all the excitement and magic of Christmas!
And one last thing… Clayton, Megan and I have been given an early Christmas present… a present in the making which will make his or her appearance in July next year… guess that means no champagne for me on Christmas day, just as long as the morning sickness has gone, after all I have the best excuse in the world to stuff myself stupid!
And to those of you not celebrating Christmas itself – Happy Holidays! Have a good one!
© Sally Hetherington .
