What I learnt from hosting my first family Christmas

Do you remember jumping out of bed on Christmas morning filled with excitement and joy? They were the good old days.

For those who are hosting Christmas this year, their first waking moments will be sprinkled with slightly different thoughts. 

Has the chicken finished defrosting? Did I get enough drinks? Is there still time to just bale on this whole ordeal and book a last-minute flight somewhere?

Find out how to be more sustainable on episode two of Somewhere Else:

This was me last year because I had put my hand up to host Christmas lunch with both my and my husband’s immediate family. Here are just some of the lessons I learned.

1. You won’t have enough matching things

Once the final headcount of 12 guests was confirmed, the first mini-crisis to surface was the daunting realisation that we simply didn’t have enough matching things. 

Not enough dining chairs, not enough matching serving ware, dinner plates, glasses, or cutlery. Typically these things come in a set of six, and all of a sudden, we needed double.

At some point, I highly considered buying 50-packs of paper plates and plastic cutlery and calling it a day, but all of those pretty photos that I had saved on Pinterest stopped me, and I settled on a compromise – fork out on the smaller things to get them to match, but the mismatched chairs would have to do.

Lesson learned: Ask those who are driving to bring some additional chairs.

2. Timing is everything

As the days counted down to Christmas, it wasn’t Santa’s visit that was on my mind, but the amount of things that needed to happen to roll out a banquet feast.

From preparing the leg of lamb and calculating the exact cooking time to getting those whipped cream peaks just in time to top off the pavlova – time was of the essence. And on top of that, there were drinks to be chilled, prawns to be peeled, cold meats to be sliced, and veggies to be skinned, chopped, seasoned, and roasted.

During that whirlwind, I can recall daydreaming about Christmasses of the past, when I would simply sit my bum on a chair (a real chair at that), and the only time calculation on my mind, was how long I should wait between lunch and dessert.

Lesson learned: Do as much of the prepping and cooking as possible, one or two days beforehand.

3. The pretty table setting doesn’t stay pretty for long

I took the job of decorating the Christmas table very seriously, so much so that I was up at the crack of dawn on Christmas Eve. I fought my way through Sydney Flower Markets, on the hunt for some greenery for the centrepiece, and some pine branches so that I could make each person their own mini place card wreath because apparently, I was a glutton for punishment.

When all was done and decorated, and the table was as pretty as an (Instagram) picture, it took about two seconds for it to get messed up.

Looking back, I can’t help but ask myself was the effort I put into decorating worth it? And if I’m totally honest, the answer is a hard “no”.

Lesson learned: People don’t care about how pretty the table looks, so there’s no need to go overboard. Keep it simple, stupid.

4. The cleaning can wait

Once Christmas lunch was done, and everyone had fallen into a food coma, I naturally shifted into clean-up mode, and began stacking piles of plates, making multiple trips between the table and the kitchen.

Even when others offered to help, I was too proud to take them up on their offer, with the fear that it would “ruin the fun”. Quickly, I realised I had barely spent any time, actually sitting around the table, surrounded by my loved ones, which is what Christmas is all about.

Lesson learned: Leave most of the cleaning until everyone has gone, but if you must clean up, gather a cleaning crew together, as there’s always someone more than happy to help. 

5. My mum is an unsung hero

By the time Boxing Day rolled around, I can remember dramatically proclaiming, in pure exhaustion, that I would never host Christmas again. And this is coming from someone who has a relatively small collected family, no kids, and a helping husband. Which got me thinking …

To those who are happy to host Christmas year after year, those who make it look so easy-breezy, and those who assume the role and play it like a pro – I take my hat off to you. 

And though I’m sure I’ll find myself hosting again soon enough, for now, I’ll happily sit in my mismatched chair, forever thankful for the real Christmas miracle that is my Mum.

Lesson learned: Give those who are often the host the praise that they so very much deserve. And of course, offer to join the cleaning crew at the end of the day.