First Christmas

By popular demand (mostly from Aunty Bev) I present: Madeleine’s first Christmas.

When we woke up in the morning, Santa had been.

Baby M dressed up in a Christmas tutu and elf hat and gamboled on the fluffy rug. She seemed, already, to know that this was to be an especially fun day.* With Nan and Pa far away in Sydney, we all blessed the invention of Skype (after we got it to work, that is).

Later, while Madeleine napped… champagne brunch with friends, outside in the courtyard, where the sun made the rosemary fragrant and the olive tree had started to bear fruit. We sat around a table laden with fresh croissants, cherries, berries (strawberries, blackberries, raspberries and blueberries), yoghurt, honey, and mixed-berry muffins still warm from the oven.

Christmas crackers snapped, silly hats on heads, appalling jokes on tongues.

A trip to the airport to pick up big sister Em. A journey to Bendigo to visit Mr B’s family. A stop-off at the hotel for Em to open her presents and Madeleine to eat the paper.

At Nanna’s house, a veritable present frenzy with all Madeleine’s cousins, which ended in three-year-old Mia dancing and throwing paper over her head like a game in a pile of autumn leaves. All of this I failed to photograph because I was on the floor holding onto Madeleine while she played in her own paper storm.

I will leave you with Nanna and almost all of her grand-children, the little ones yelling “ME-RRRRRY CHRISTMAS!” just for you.

(Yes, I know that was a LOT. I’m not great at editing or curating when it comes to pictures of my family).

*Side effect: at the conclusion of Christmas and the couple of similar days that followed, Madeleine decided that sleep was for dummies and pledged never to do it again. AAAARGH. To be continued.