Tradition is a big thing in my family, especially this time of year. My memories of childhood are rich with visions of holidays past - it brings me a lot of joy to reminisce, and I am so excited to create those same memories for our daughter.
But being a family also means tweaking and adjusting traditions from both sides. And I'll be the first to admit that there are some Bonham family traditions that I could do without. (Staying up until 3am wrapping every little thing just isn't going to work for me. And I can live without the mince meat pie.) So, this year, since it's just the three of us, we're doing everything our way. However, melding our respective family traditions is an interesting feat. There are some that are no-brainers. Swedish pancakes (crepe like pancakes) for Christmas morning breakfast is a keeper. Score one for Team Bonham. Of course it's served with the Ozark bacon that my Dad ships to us every year = point 2. But Scott's bringing his A-game - the late lunch/dinner on Christmas Eve: Buffalo Wings. Point to Team Weygandt bringing food from the homeland to the match. Identifying the gift giver as other special characters aside from just "Mom and Dad" or "Santa", but something unique and hinting at what might be inside is a fun one, too. Score 2 for Team Weygandt.
Thus brings us to the final battle: Christmas Stockings. In my family, stockings were filled (by Santa, of course!) late at night on Christmas Eve. Everything inside the stocking was wrapped by the jolly old elf himself. Individually. Every. Single. Item. But, Scott informs me that with Earth's booming population and concerns over the environment, Santa is no longer able to wrap everything in the stockings individually. Maybe just a few key items. And in his house, the stockings arrived early and were opened on Christmas Eve. "Sacrilege!" I say to this early opening of the stockings. It must be an East coast thing. So, living in the Rocky Mountain West, we agreed to a compromise from Santa. Stockings on Christmas morning, but save a few trees and don't worry about wrapping everything.
The art of compromise. Keeps a marriage happy.
And that's what this holiday is about for me this year. Not compromise, per-se, but tweaking traditions to suit us. Abbey is too young to remember anything, although we plan to take enough video and pictures to remind her in her teen years. This holiday is for Scott and I. To bask in the glow of our new family and our happiness together during this most joyous time of year. To reflect on our favorite childhood memories of Christmases past and to create our own traditions for years to come.
That's a special gift.
From our family to yours - Merry Christmas.