Tag Archives: Christmas

Christmas Eve, 2010

I was tucking Felix for his nap a few hours ago and we were reviewing the afternoon’s coming events, dinner with my husband’s family in Rhode Island, and the coming home to put out cookies and milk for Santa and hang our stockings.

“Mama? Is Santa on his way?” he asks.

“Not yet, Baby. He’s getting ready.”

“Is he checking his list?” he asks.

“I bet, lovey. Do you think there’s a Felix on that list?”

“Yeah,” he says, snuggling into his covers.

You bet there is.

Merry Christmas, Everyone!

Christmas

Lasagna for Christmas Eve dinner, one gift from under the tree, which meant one that was from an aunt or family friend, as gifts from my parents and Santa always appearing magically in the night. Would it be a Lanz of Salzburg flannel nightie from my fabulous Aunt Helen (And by “aunt” I mean my mother’s stepfather’s stepmother – I think. Either way? Truly a hot ticket!)? Or a wonderful new book from Aunt Linda? Would my Uncle Pete make his bus from New York? Baking gingerbread cookies from my grandmother’s recipe, the decorating always starting out ambitious and deteriorating into a few raisin eyes and a cinnamon buttons; my little brother’s cookies always horribly mangled a little crooked. Last minute shopping with my Dad. A fire in wood stove. Reading aloud from my Mom’s ancient copy of The Night Before Christmas, hanging the stockings, leaving the best of gingerbread cookies with milk for Santa. My Dad negotiating how much it would cost him to have me wrap the gifts he bought. Listening to our vinyl copies of John Denver & the Muppets: A Christmas Together and Christmas Eve on Sesame Street. Waking Christmas morning to my little brother in my room with his flashlight. “Is it time to open presents?” “No, not until seven o’clock.” Coming down the stairs together, after my parents had gone down to turn on the tree and start the coffee get the camera ready for pictures. My Mom’s coffee cake, scrambled eggs and bacon for breakfast. Squeezing the oranges for fresh juice with the meal. The four of us, together, spending the morning opening gifts, my job, and then in later years, my brother’s job, to hand out gifts, to be the Elf. My brother’s best friend, our neighbor Jeff, calling him at a ridiculously inappropriate hour to ask him about his haul. Christmas dinner, wearing the crowns from the Christmas crackers, trading the bad jokes and showing off the toys inside. A long, easy afternoon, playing with new toys, reading new books, watching movies, eating too many red and green M&Ms. A late night, knowing there wouldn’t be school for another week, at least.

This week’s prompt featured the word tradition and a photograph of a beautiful handmade ornament, courtesy of the lovely and talented Lori at In Pursuit of Martha Points.

The Small Boy’s Gingerbread Cottage

Mise en place

Assembly complete, decoration begins.

Deep in concentration, he begins hour two.

Two hours in, he feels his work is done.

The finished Cottage. Number of candies placed by Mama: Two.