Kerre McIvor: Change of pace but magical as ever

As Mrs Claus, I managed to stop a baby crying and two children stopped fighting.

By the time you read this, Christmas will be done and dusted. The last of the ham sandwiches will have been made, the dog will be eyeing what remains of the turkey carcass and you'll be girding your loins for New Year revelry.

Every Christmas has its own, unique atmosphere, doesn't it?

Some years our house has been full of family, friends and orphans with the table extended to the deck outside and the office chairs and armchairs called into service so everyone has a seat. The carousing goes on late into the night and you wake in the morning with flashing reindeer horns still on your head playing Jingle Bells.

This year was more low key. My girl and her husband flew home from London. They'd left for new jobs and new lives 18 months ago and, although I'd seen her in April, I was counting the sleeps until they arrived. They had booked the cheapest flights and that meant a long-haul trip, leaving London, spending a night in Paris, then 14 hours in Ghangzou Airport before landing in Auckland at 7am on Christmas Eve.

Such was my excitement I'd dressed up to welcome them home in a hired Mrs Claus outfit - a red dress, with a red-and-green trim, red-and-white candy striped stocking and a Santa hat. The fat tummy I provided myself.

There was an element of risk to this plan - after pretty much two days travelling, their sense of humour may not have been intact and not every adult child wants to see their mother in a Mrs Claus outfit at the arrivals hall.

I had persuaded Tom to get us there on the dot of 7am as I didn't want to miss seeing her walk through the doors.

I looked around at the crowds of expectant, happy faces. "Hmmm," I said, as I smoothed down the skirt of my Mrs Claus dress. "I thought more people would have dressed up." Tom looked at me, and smiled wryly. "No love," he said. "It's just you."

Then, after an hour's wait, suddenly they were there and to wrap them in my arms and hug and squeeze them was the best Christmas present.

I'm so grateful to live in an era when you can communicate via Skype and Facebook - I would have hated to have depended on flimsy blue aerogrammes for contact - but there is absolutely nothing like being able to snuggle into your child.

Mercifully, she appreciated the Mrs Claus outfit and insisted I keep it on when I went to collect Mum off the bus and to the supermarket, where we joined 45,000 other people grabbing last-minute items. I might make dressing up on Christmas Eve a new tradition.

As Mrs Claus, I managed to stop a baby crying, two children stopped fighting when their clever mother warned them Mrs Claus would tell her husband what naughty boys they were and I got a lot of smiles and friendly toots from people as we made our way around town.

So Christmas morning dawned and it was just the five of us and it was lovely.

There wasn't the huge pile of presents under the tree that there has been in previous years - a veritable monument to excess that Pope Francis would not find pleasing - but it was all the better for that as each present was thoughtful and carefully chosen. A beautiful meal, lovely wine, a swim, a killer game of 500 and an early night made for a great Christmas.

I think Mum appreciated the change of pace this year. She's a trouper. She'll dance to Iggy Pop and the Kings of Leon with the young 'uns - she's been known to see a few of them off the dance floor - but a change is as good as a rest.

I hope your Christmas was as pleasurable. I know it can be tough if money is tight, or if there is friction in the family, or if you are on your own and don't want to be.

Having to share children on Christmas Day can be hard and pleasing every group on both sides of a family is also taxing.

But, for me, it is still a magical time of year. When I think of Christmas, I think of the people I love the most being together, enjoying one another's company. That's the way it's always been. And I very much hope that's the way it remains.