My last exam ended at exactly 10pm on December 23rd. I had spent the last two weeks watching vlogmas and working my way through the gigantic tub of desserts my Grandma had shipped to my dorm. Needless to say, I was ready to come home.
Speeding through the snowy Ottawa weather on a train, I arrived home just in time for Saint Nick. We celebrated by decorating the tree, surrounded by appetizers and jumbo-sized packages of Toblerone.
After the romance of returning home for Christmas wore off slightly, the Christmas spirit really set in. Our winter break had to be commenced with a viewing of The Holiday, my favourite Christmas film (I mean, can somebody purchase Cameron Diaz’s wardrobe for me, please?)
My mom made multiple pans of my favourite Christmas treats, the ones I only get once a year. And spend the next eleven months anxiously anticipating. The next thing I knew I was hopping into my velvet heels and being rushed to Christmas Eve Mass. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding; the last-minute stress of my Anthropology exam, attempting to pack all my clothes in a toddler-sized suitcase and getting used to being in back in my own bed (I’m kidding, that was the easiest part) I could finally relax. Well, until we went to my grandparents house to play Secret Santa and Dirty Dice…then the competitive chaos set in.
The two break week loomed over us like our perfect Christmas tree, cluttered with ornaments from family members, our travels, and our own hilarious creations. Sock angel, pipe cleaner dinosaur and all. We filled the days with lazy reading, a Harry Potter movie marathon (complete with my own Hedwig stuffed animal, thanks mom,) and a trip to the Royal Ontario Museum.
One trip led us to a newfound restaurant for my grandma’s 70th birthday. The Brockhouse is the perfect combination of class and comfort; the menu and service is upscale, the food is definitely worth the price. After delving into some buttermilk Fried Chicken and Waffles, the heat of the restaurant fireplace grazing my cheeks, I knew this place had to make the blog.
One of my favourite parts of the Christmas Break was not opening up my Big Bird stocking (although that tops the list every year), but feeling as though I was truly home for the holidays. As cliche as it sounds, sitting around with my family for two weeks straight after not being home for more than a week since August felt heavenly. It felt good to see my friends. It felt good to jump into a new pair of reading socks and die of laughter while playing Trivial Pursuit at an empty Wild Wing.
It felt really good to be home for Christmas.