Let's Talk Holidays!

Our kids spend Christmas Day with their "other" parents (Nick and I started dating after we both had a child), so we celebrate with the kids on Christmas Eve. On Christmas Eve Eve they open one gift (always PJs) and then we watch Christmas Vacation. This year we are NOT doing that, as Noah has a big hockey match against the rival Catholic school, and our friend is having a Christmas Open House and we have a ton of friends in town. Usually its the teenagers ditching the parents, but this year its us. Feel mild guilt. 

The next morn we open gifts, I make a huge brekky, and we laze about until 4:30 mass at St. Mary's with my in-laws. Then we and the kids go to Chinese buffet (where we sing fa-ra-ra-ra-raaaa our of earshot of employees), and head to the in-laws to open gifts with that whole side of the family. It's chaos, dogs are always barking and fighting, my jerkhole nephew rips open his presents too quickly and then whines he has nothing else to open. My father in law busts out the Crown Royal and talks too loudly, and I eat too many cookies. Usually leave with at least $300 cash (they're rich), after one year my MIL bought me a No-No hair removal device, I kindly asked for cash.

About 10:00 pm we drop kids off at other parent's homes, and head straight to our local pub where we get drunk with our childless and/or deadbeat friends (we judge not). I play Mariah Carey All I want For Christmas Is You at least three times on the jukebox, which I think is hysterical and no one else does. After they get mad I play Amanda by Boston at least twice. People start to ignore me. 

Wake up hung over to make whatever offering I am bringing to my rich control freak sister's house (this year we have to all get flu shots or cannot come!). Head there where I drink at least two bottles of cheap champagne, feel bloated, rile up my nieces and nephews, nap on my rich sister's expensive bed, and wander into the kitchen after everything is cleaned up and say "what can I do to help?". My mother almost always cries for some reason or another. Usually because one of us is picking on her. I already know this year the reason will be her not getting us gifts and spending the week in NOLA instead, eating beignets. Selfish woman. 

Grand kids have brought a whole new level of fun to the holidays. We can shop for small things again. Joy is genuine. Disappointment is temporary. Something is always in motion. It's always loud. Sometimes I keep up with the conversation. I always leave exhausted.

Then Bourbon!

Happy Holidays Everyone ...

When our kids started to get a little bit older and did not travel quite so well we began to stay home for Christmas instead of traveling to see family. It was time to start our own tradition of Christmas in our own house. This is the first Christmas after our son graduated from college and moved 500 miles away to start life on his own. He will be traveling home to our house for Christmas reminding me of when I first had to travel to my parent's house for the holidays many years ago. Life coming full circle. 

For Christmas Eve we typically go to our friends house for a celebration and now the kids are old enough to want to go with us. Since Santa does not have to stay up to put toys together anymore he can stay out later and have a few more beers. Sometimes Santa misses not having to put toys together. We also miss that trip to Toys R Us to buy the toys that seemed like a chore then but would be a treat now. The holdiay is very different when the kids are not beating on your door at daylight to go downstairs to open the gifts. The only real ongoing tradition I have on Christmas is Bloody Marys and raw oysters for breakfast followed by ham biscuits and oyster stew. After that you begin to figure out how to work the new computer, camera, car stereo, read the new book, watch the new movies or just nap. Yea, think I'll just nap...

Anyway Merry Christmas everyone! See you freaks in 2017!!

I have my sisters and their families, plus my children and new SIL coming Christmas Day; I live in the house where we all grew up (and my mother grew up) so the memory factor is compounded, plus, being the dinosaur that I am, I'll drag out lots of the same styles and equipment. Some of the ornaments have been around 4 generations.

For the last time, my remaining unmarried daughter will spend the night and wake us up Christmas morning (she gets married in March).

Like my dad, I'll cook a beef tenderloin on the grill, adding my new tradition of always running out of gas half way through.

Last night I made the eggnog from scratch with my grandfather's family recipe, and poured into the 100 year old Planters bowl. Just wish I had a real (old) mixmaster instead of the new thing. Dark rum and 100* applejack brandy, drizzled into the egg yolks to cook them.

We still do stockings for the girls, but question the tradition when instead of toys they hold mini bottles. But like my parents did to me, there's an orange in there ("Filler!" he exclaimed as he tossed the orb over his shoulder and kept rooting.)

Must play Mitch Miller at some point.

A memory: when I was in 7th grade or so, my parents gave me the LP Black Sabbath Paranoid. When my daughter was in 7th grade, I gave her the same CD. Traditions....

I still have the electric train I got 52 years ago and sometimes set it up around the tree, but this year it will be "let's not and say we did."

Lots of red wine and other libations, dinner in the dining room, lay around by the fire and scratch bellies the rest of the day.

Most important, in keeping with long standing tradition, neither of the children will get a pony.

My siblings and I always got an orange in our Christmas stocking too. Our son gets one as well. Speaking of which I sure hope there is one in the fridge because I don't want to go anywhere near a grocery store today.

This gave me a little lump in my throat. At 15 and 16, my children will be flying the coop sooner than later, and its been really hard. Any thought of traditions breaking or them leaving home brings a flood of emotions. I can't envision a time where I am not the center of my daughter's world...