Holiday Traditions

The holidays make me wish I was 5 again. This could be because, in my Mom’s eyes, we still are 5. The woman puts a lot of stock in tradition, and she has a very hard time coming to terms with the fact that my brother and I are 19 and 25 years old respectively. I’m not complaining. I’m a sucker for decorating the tree and making Christmas cookies, but sometimes it gets awkward. For example, I believed in Santa for longer than the vast majority of my peers.  All the other kids in my class would be like, “Santa is not real.” Of course, I would agree with them so I would look cool, but in my mind I was like, “IDIOTS. Jokes on you people, Santa is totally real. Who else but elves could put this kind of craftsmanship into TY beanie babies?” I think it was 5th grade when I had to come to terms with the fact that maybe something was up.  Santa’s handwriting looked an awful lot like Mom’s. Not to mention I was learning about gravity, and time zones, and science, and stuff. Now my brother and I play along with her as best we can. We put out cookies for Santa (Mom) and Rudolph (Still Mom.) And we pretend to be really surprised to find them gone the next morning. The crumbs are a convincing touch. It’s fun to act like a kid for the holidays.

Processed with VSCOcam with c1 preset

My Masterpiece 🙂

734900_586183311396856_1299634281_n

In Florida this is what our Snowmen and women look like.

Our Christmas morning traditions have remained pretty consistent. Early Christmas morning, before presents, we gather around the manger (the same manger my Dad made in his garage “workshop” over 20 years ago) and sing happy birthday to Jesus. (I’m not kidding.) Each of us then reads a paragraph from the Nativity story. I have to stifle laughter when it’s Dad’s turn to read. Picture Dad in his robe with no coffee in his system yet trying to read without his reading glasses. Never gets old.

When it’s time to open presents, my brother and I assume our positions as “present-passer-outers” -a phrase we coined years ago. My brother does not take this role too seriously. He gets distracted when the first present he picks up is for himself, and consequently forgoes his present distributing duties for the remainder of Christmas morning. Mom never opens any of her presents because she is taking pictures of us opening up every. single. present. Once all of the presents and stockings are opened we get to my favorite part of the morning: the Breakfast FEAST.

Processed with VSCOcam with c1 preset

The spread. See if you can spot my Christmas morning favorite: Sausage balls.

xmas4

The year Mom got really ambitious and made her own X-mas candy.

xmas6

Another year she made a beautiful Christmas tree cake

While we’re on the subject of Holiday traditions, I would like to speak about my Mom’s interior design skills that really shine throughout the Holiday season. To be frank, our house looks like it was decorated by a bunch of kindergartners. This is because, in fact, it is. Every decoration my brother and I ever created is brought out of the vault and put on display. Mom doesn’t throw anything away.  She cannot bear to part with our little glitter and macaroni covered faces.

xmas5

Exhibit A: Every ornament we made as children.

Processed with VSCOcam with g3 preset

Exhibit B: My brother and I looking THRILLED to decorate cookies with our grade school Noel signs hanging on the windows in the background. One of us had a tough time with our “L”s in kindergarten. She shall remain nameless.

I wouldn’t trade these traditions for anything, and I can’t wait to get back home for Christmas to spend it with the family I love the most. Happy Holidays everyone!

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s