Family holiday traditions

 When it was just living with my family growing up, we would open one gift on Christmas Eve (this gift was ALWAYS pajamas) and then everything else the next morning.  My sister always played "elf" with my mother; I always liked getting surprised the next morning.

Now that it's me, my husband, daughter, and bonus son, we have several more traditions.  We're keeping the one gift on the Eve (both Solstice and Christmas) and one of those gifts will always be pajamas.  On the morning of Solstice/Yule, we and the kids open 2-3 gifts.  On Christmas morning, everything else is opened.  A tradition that my husband's family has is tree presents.  Just a few small, wrapped gifts that are hidden inside the tree's branches.  

The stocking tradition with my family was fun, I think.  We always had two red apples and two oranges in the "foot" portion of the stocking.  The rest was filled with practical items (new toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, etc.) but it was also filled with smaller fun stuff.  Since it was just my sister and me, it was pretty easy to fill our stockings each year.

Now, it's our daughter and bonus son.  Our daughter is five, so it's pretty easy to do her stocking.  The Boy (as we call him sometimes) is twelve, and is a bit difficult for us.  He's not quite old enough for those Old Spice or Axe gift set things, but he's too old for action figures and cards (Pokemon, Yugioh, etc.).  It's tough.  We figured out something and hopefully the kids will enjoy what they receive this year.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Conversations

Image
This is all from a conversation I've had with someone I mentioned in this blog awhile ago.  It seems surreal to me that we can talk so freely about the stuff we couldn't talk about ten years ago.  Then again, I was letting the conversation happen, so what does that say about me?  Why am I taking these deep breaths?  Why is my heart beating faster? I'm going to blame the coffee and an empty stomach.  Or maybe the too tight jeans that I shouldn't have worn.  That makes much more sense and I like that explanation much better.  There's nothing deep seeded here.  Nothing.  Why is it that he's always the one to message me first?  I still don't know how to interpret that. I should have started copying/pasting much earlier in the conversation.  The first part sounds bad.  We were talking about a time about 11 years ago when I'd hopped a Greyhound to see him in college for a week. I'm wondering if he was patronizing me (or just being drunk) toward the e
Read more

At the check-out line

I posted this on a social networking site and the comments took the post in a direction I had not intended.  So, I'm "moving" the original post here, along with only my comments (edited). One thing that cashiers in any store would love for customers to have is etiquette at the check-out line.   Oftentimes, customers are on the phone having a conversation while the cashier is trying to do their job.  They can't do it accurately unless they're able to talk and conversate with you.  Please, put down the phone (tell the person on the other end you'll call them back) and respond to your cashier. Also, some cashiers are just naturally bubbly and in a good mood.  If you're having a bad day or are in a bad mood, the cashier can tell and they want to help you make your day a better one.  Not all cashiers are like this, but I am.  It actually hurts my feelings a bit when I ask, "Hi there!  How are you today?" and all I get is a grunt and a sour puss fac
Read more

Is It Really A Wonder?

A friend of mine left a comment on a recent blog saying that it's no wonder I haven't broken down yet. She said that I've been through a lot lately. This could be true (I'm not discrediting her) but I see it as me just living my life, dealing and handling what's been given to me. I know that the people who count have the faith in me that I need. When I was in boot camp, I was being strong for all those girls who were away from their families for the first time. They'd cry and sob and cry some more, everyday wondering if they'd made the right choice. Every time, I was there, helping them through it. I'd been away from my family before (five months after graduation) and was just fine then. I didn't cry during those five months. I suppose, while in boot camp, when I thought it was safe, I broke down a bit and cried; I missed my mother and my friends. I was actually really fucking disappointed that they didn't write as often as they said they would.
Read more