Christmas Morning as Adults
I will be so happy when the holidays are over.
Isn't it weird that we are 'supposed" to be happy during this time of year but as adults it brings on more stress? Every year I clean the house to make it look presentable and yet by the end of the day I find myself having to start over plus now I have to find places to put things away that have been given to me. If only we knew ahead of time what we were getting, then if we were getting pajamas we could clean out that drawer and make it easy to just slide the new pair of pajamas away once everybody left.
Traditions have changed a lot over the years and yet at the same time they stay the same. Christmas day must always be at my parents yet some where along the line it changed from them welcoming us to a warm house, gifts and a hot breakfast to us scrambling to get there on time and us preparing the meal. I don't mind really -except for having to be there early. For some reason my family has always set a time and everyone shows up a good 30 minutes early and then they begin calling me to ask when I will arrive... to make matters worse, my husband is NEVER on time. Oh I have tried telling him the arrival time is 30 minutes before it actually is but somehow we always miss that mark too so I have given up.
When my mum was in charge of making the meal, bless her heart, she would always make microwave scrambled eggs which come out in one large patty shaped blob and because she was always trying to be ready ahead of time, they were always cold. She is still in charge of making biscuits which goes as follows...
She opens the pops the can and spreads them out on the baking sheets preparing to place them in the oven and as soon as her back is turned- my sister and I begin tearing off the raw corners of them and shoving them in our mouth. Neither of us like cooked biscuits but we have always loved the raw dough. We try to quickly reshape them into the rounded shape they began in but now they are awkward and lop-sided so the minute my mum see's them, she knows, and grumbling how we are 'going to get worms', she throws them in the oven. When the cooked biscuits hit the table, they look raw on the top but the bottoms are always burnt to a deep shade of black so my sister and I slap the hardened bottom on our plates and laugh.
My mum tries to make it festive and breaks out her good china along with a million different sized drinking glasses (all of us adult kids only use one for the bottomless mimosa's we always bring). My mum will point out the hand painted wine glasses with strings of holly on them and begin to brag about how I had once painted them for her ("Yes, we ALL know") which will be followed up with "When are you going to finish painting me some more balls for the Christmas tree? It sure would be nice to have another full set." No Christmas is complete with out a minor guilt trip. I try to pretend I don't hear her.
On the table will be a red glass strawberry shaped jar with it's gold lid looking like a stem and matching spoon, something she got from Avon when we were children. No one ever puts the strawberry Jelly inside of it on their biscuits but it is the only time of year she gets to bust it out and it gives me the comforts of childhood just seeing it.
My mum over decorates. Everyroom in her house is a mini winter wonderland. In the living room she has a full book shelf cleared off in order to place out what she calls her "mini houses." It was once something people collected. Every year you could go into the store and purchase a new house that belongs at the North Pole. On the day after Thanksgiving she begins unboxing all her mini houses that she has made my dad pull down from the attic, and she lays out a long bed of cotton to act as snow. She takes HOURS strategically placing each house, street lamp, and people in place. During the process she will call me several times to tell me how "It's for the grandkids. They just love it" and how time consuming it is. I personally don't know if anyone ever takes the time to look at it anymore but it keeps her busy and in the holiday spirit.
Every hand towel is Christmas themed and most of them she has sewn herself. I don't know if everyone else thinks the way I do, but after washing my hands (while avoiding the Christmas shaped carved soaps), I stand there with dripping hands afraid to ruin her towels and eventually resort to my childhood and just wipe them off on my shirt.
Once Breakfast is completed, my sister and I will clear the table, making a pile on the kitchen counter. My parents have always had a dishwashing machine, the same one they have had since we were children but no matter how much we begged to use it back then, they told us no.. it was for special occaisons (which never came) Only now do we get to use it. I think it is because now there are more of us. For some messed up reason, they never bolted it to the wall so you can not have both racks out at the same time or over load either shelf when it is open or it will tip front first to the floor. This means that even thought we do get to use it, it is still up to my sister and I to hand wash many of the dishes. Just like when we were children, we argue over who will do the washing. No one ever wants to dry as that means you also have to put the dishes away. The person who loses (the drier) will constantly complain and say the washer "missed a spot" and throw the dish back in the soapy side to make it harder to get done first.
I love our Christmases. I can't say I really paid much attention to the detail while growing up but now that I am older and I know my parents are aging, I enjoy every second (even doing the dishes). I am very lucky for the family I have been given. My husband smiles and tells me how lucky I am as they never had family traditions growing up or got together once they were older and out of the house. He actually gets excited to be apart of them even though my family are extremely loud (everyone tries to over talk one another constantly), can bicker alot, and can be a bit overwhelming. I find that I used to be excited on Christmas eve to wake up and see what presents I got (and hope I got more than Lisa) but now I get that same excitement just to spend time with them.
Merry Christmas! May it be memoriable everyone!
Isn't it weird that we are 'supposed" to be happy during this time of year but as adults it brings on more stress? Every year I clean the house to make it look presentable and yet by the end of the day I find myself having to start over plus now I have to find places to put things away that have been given to me. If only we knew ahead of time what we were getting, then if we were getting pajamas we could clean out that drawer and make it easy to just slide the new pair of pajamas away once everybody left.
Traditions have changed a lot over the years and yet at the same time they stay the same. Christmas day must always be at my parents yet some where along the line it changed from them welcoming us to a warm house, gifts and a hot breakfast to us scrambling to get there on time and us preparing the meal. I don't mind really -except for having to be there early. For some reason my family has always set a time and everyone shows up a good 30 minutes early and then they begin calling me to ask when I will arrive... to make matters worse, my husband is NEVER on time. Oh I have tried telling him the arrival time is 30 minutes before it actually is but somehow we always miss that mark too so I have given up.
When my mum was in charge of making the meal, bless her heart, she would always make microwave scrambled eggs which come out in one large patty shaped blob and because she was always trying to be ready ahead of time, they were always cold. She is still in charge of making biscuits which goes as follows...
She opens the pops the can and spreads them out on the baking sheets preparing to place them in the oven and as soon as her back is turned- my sister and I begin tearing off the raw corners of them and shoving them in our mouth. Neither of us like cooked biscuits but we have always loved the raw dough. We try to quickly reshape them into the rounded shape they began in but now they are awkward and lop-sided so the minute my mum see's them, she knows, and grumbling how we are 'going to get worms', she throws them in the oven. When the cooked biscuits hit the table, they look raw on the top but the bottoms are always burnt to a deep shade of black so my sister and I slap the hardened bottom on our plates and laugh.
My mum tries to make it festive and breaks out her good china along with a million different sized drinking glasses (all of us adult kids only use one for the bottomless mimosa's we always bring). My mum will point out the hand painted wine glasses with strings of holly on them and begin to brag about how I had once painted them for her ("Yes, we ALL know") which will be followed up with "When are you going to finish painting me some more balls for the Christmas tree? It sure would be nice to have another full set." No Christmas is complete with out a minor guilt trip. I try to pretend I don't hear her.
On the table will be a red glass strawberry shaped jar with it's gold lid looking like a stem and matching spoon, something she got from Avon when we were children. No one ever puts the strawberry Jelly inside of it on their biscuits but it is the only time of year she gets to bust it out and it gives me the comforts of childhood just seeing it.
My mum over decorates. Everyroom in her house is a mini winter wonderland. In the living room she has a full book shelf cleared off in order to place out what she calls her "mini houses." It was once something people collected. Every year you could go into the store and purchase a new house that belongs at the North Pole. On the day after Thanksgiving she begins unboxing all her mini houses that she has made my dad pull down from the attic, and she lays out a long bed of cotton to act as snow. She takes HOURS strategically placing each house, street lamp, and people in place. During the process she will call me several times to tell me how "It's for the grandkids. They just love it" and how time consuming it is. I personally don't know if anyone ever takes the time to look at it anymore but it keeps her busy and in the holiday spirit.
Every hand towel is Christmas themed and most of them she has sewn herself. I don't know if everyone else thinks the way I do, but after washing my hands (while avoiding the Christmas shaped carved soaps), I stand there with dripping hands afraid to ruin her towels and eventually resort to my childhood and just wipe them off on my shirt.
Once Breakfast is completed, my sister and I will clear the table, making a pile on the kitchen counter. My parents have always had a dishwashing machine, the same one they have had since we were children but no matter how much we begged to use it back then, they told us no.. it was for special occaisons (which never came) Only now do we get to use it. I think it is because now there are more of us. For some messed up reason, they never bolted it to the wall so you can not have both racks out at the same time or over load either shelf when it is open or it will tip front first to the floor. This means that even thought we do get to use it, it is still up to my sister and I to hand wash many of the dishes. Just like when we were children, we argue over who will do the washing. No one ever wants to dry as that means you also have to put the dishes away. The person who loses (the drier) will constantly complain and say the washer "missed a spot" and throw the dish back in the soapy side to make it harder to get done first.
I love our Christmases. I can't say I really paid much attention to the detail while growing up but now that I am older and I know my parents are aging, I enjoy every second (even doing the dishes). I am very lucky for the family I have been given. My husband smiles and tells me how lucky I am as they never had family traditions growing up or got together once they were older and out of the house. He actually gets excited to be apart of them even though my family are extremely loud (everyone tries to over talk one another constantly), can bicker alot, and can be a bit overwhelming. I find that I used to be excited on Christmas eve to wake up and see what presents I got (and hope I got more than Lisa) but now I get that same excitement just to spend time with them.
Merry Christmas! May it be memoriable everyone!