Te timatanga (The ‘opening’)

“Mum!! It’s Christmas!!”

Jingle bells jangle in my ear.

I hear my voice thick with tiredness, where blankets of sleep still lie heavy.  This child – the one who Monday through Friday sleeps till 8 o’clock – has woken me.

It’s 6.36 am.

“Mum! It’s Christmas!”

From my dreamy sanctuary, Alice pulls me to my feet. Clutching her small hand, I stagger downstairs. Descending through sleep’s cloud my heart softens in anticipation of my favourite ‘Mummy’ moment of the year.

Her excitement is palpable although for now I only let her open Santa’s sack. I was right about the Lego; (the new ‘Friends’ campervan was irresistible) and the watch was bang on.

We eat Santa’s chocolate, snuggle and wait for the rest of the family: my partner Phillip; his daughter; two Grandmas; Grandpa and the dog, so we can enjoy the ‘opening’ together.

Alice and I make our gifts. My mother laughs at our first book, ‘The Best Nest’ – a comedy about our adventures at Lake Tarawera in Rotorua. Alice is a natural cartoonist. For other loved ones we have reproduced her artwork on Calendars, mousepads and diaries.

I have made her a mermaid’s tail, with fins and a sequined bra. It’s more than she can cope with. I bury my head into her little shoulder so no one sees my tears of pride as she squeals appreciation with delighted hugs.

“You’re the best Mummy!”

Months of working relentlessly, saving ferociously and creating furtively, are satiated in that single moment. Truth is, I always engineer it so Santa comes off looking ‘adequate’ while I get the credit for the ‘good stuff’.

Te Kai (The feast)

Lured by the magnetic mountain and intoxicating waters of Lake Tarawera, our summer days are warm and long. One of our Christmas traditions is to catch trout. This year we secure a 9 pound record – a true monument of the season. My skipper is proud and my girl learns well.

The Christmas Day Feast celebrates the abundance of our land, our waters and the generosity of my family. Its decadence is of a magnitude I barely comprehend. There is Hot smoked trout, manuka honey-glazed ham, green-lipped mussels, rack of lamb, barbecued chicken kebabs, minted green peas, and a myriad of green salads. Strawberry Champagne. pilsner and ales, chardonnays and Pinot Noirs flow readily. We embellish the table with fresh pohutukawa flowers – blazing red, a national symbol of a kiwi Christmas.

Phillip rings out his welcome and karakia (prayer) in the language of our Nation’s first people – te reo Maori. Humility and reverence give way to voracious consumption, laughter and ultimately, contentment.

Te Moana (The Lake) 

As the afternoon transpires, we migrate to the lakefront. Catering and shepherding three generations takes some orchestrating. We alternate between swimming and kayaking in the sheltered bay. I live vicariously through my daughter’s discovery she actually is a mermaid.

As I throw myself on to a towel in the sand, the sun blesses my wet skin and I sink into bliss. It’s the perfect Christmas.

“Where’s the soap Mummy?”

I don’t know how long I was asleep but I’m struggling to grasp comprehension. I need to lay off that champagne.

“Grandma said a naughty word.”

I cock my head up at my Mother who feigned shame. I return mocked punishment and we laugh shamelessly.

5.45 pm. Time for dinner? I throw picnic blankets and arrange a visual symphony of delectable offerings (a.k.a ‘leftovers’).

Then as all good shepherds do. I gather. I bring in shivering children, the Aunty who I have a long chat to, the kindly neighbour, who we must see more of. And my dog.

My dog, regrettably, is the first one that gets the message that dinner is ready.

11.07 pm. I’m done in. Even my hair is tired.

“You did good babe.”

Phillip gently retrieves me from the kitchen and I sink against him. I barely feel myself being steered back up the stairs.

Whether this season brings you turkey and snow or trout and sunshine – Merry Christmas from ‘down-under’ to ‘up top.’ 

Julia Charity is a New Zealand-based Mother, Entrepreneur and Writer.