I love the stories behind how traditions are formed.
Growing up we had a lot of Christmas traditions, and as a kid I took them as a given. It wasn’t until later that I found out the simple reasons that formed those traditions.
For example, we always open all of our presents on Christmas Eve, so obviously we weren’t a Santa Claus kind of family. It wasn’t that our parents didn’t allow us to believe in the magic of Santa, it just was not taught or emphasized. I asked my parents about this later and they said that they didn’t want to teach us that Santa was real, and then turn around and teach us that Jesus was real, because one really is, and really loves us, and really wants a relationship with us, and the other is a legend who has become a symbol of a lot of things, and some of those things are not worth teaching your children (i.e. commercialism, and being good to get stuff.)
Christ was the center of our household growing up, especially at Christmas. Being a pastor’s kid meant late night services Christmas Eve, but that didn’t stop us from having our own little Christmas pageant before we opened our gifts. We’d get all dressed up and act out the story as Mom read from Luke and Dad videotaped. When we were very young David and Sarah played Mary and Joseph, I was usually the angel of the Lord (fitting, right?) , and Rachel was baby Jesus. One of my favorite Christmas memories is a video we have of Rachel at about 16 months old in a laundry basket manger. She would just not stay in! So Sarah kept pushing her down and Rachel kept standing right back up, smiling up a storm. When Rachel was too old to be baby Jesus any more, her role was changed to a shepherd and a cabbage patch kid replaced her as the Holy child.
Christmas Eve dinner was fondue! I guess my parents got a few fondue pots as wedding presents or something, and it was a fun way to do dinner with four kids. We had a spread of all kinds of fruit to dip in chocolate, yummy bread to dip in hot cheese, and good ole’ red meat (venison or beef steak) to fry in oil. Yes, our parents apparently trusted us enough to allow us to fry our own meat, although I’m not sure when that started.
Anywho, another reason we opened our presents Christmas Eve, I found out later, is because we would always head to our Grandma’s place in Duluth very early Christmas morning. Our parents would pack us up in our PJ’s and load us into the maroon minivan while it was still hours from daybreak. That way, we would sleep most of the 8 hour drive and wake up just before we arrived. Smart people, my parents.
The experts say that smell is one of the most intense senses that trigger memories. I can attest to that because I can still distinctly remember how my grandma’s apartment building smelled. There was a gas fireplace in the lobby and the smell of Christmas-y potpourri from the holly wreaths and other decorations that residents hung on their doors. Grandma’s apartment had a very unique combination of scents as well, although the one that sticks out in my mind the most is the aroma of turkey loaf. You know, the Jennie-O frozen kind that cooks in its own gravy. Sometimes I cook that up just because I’m missing Grandma.
Both of my parent’s families lived in Duluth, so although we stayed with our dad’s mom (grandpa died before I was born), we spent time with our mom’s dad and his wife as well. Our maternal grandma died before I was born, but grandpa had remarried to a wonderful woman who totally accepted us as her grand kids. After opening presents at Grandma’s and hanging out with our uncles, aunts, and cousins, we would head out to Grandpa’s to do the same.
Grandpa was a very quiet, stoic man, but Grandma Marie was loud and boistorous. She had kids from her previous marriage, and they had kids, so we had a lot of step-cousins running around to play with. There would be a huge spread of snacky foods on the dining room table, and I remember loading up on broccoli and ham buns. Grandma Marie bought us the most interesting presents, most of which she bought on the home shopping network. One year I got a plastic doll that crawled. It broke the next day. My dad’s brother, Bill, said he could fix it because his brother, Richard, was a doctor. He couldn’t.
Anywho, after opening presents the cousins would head downstairs to the basement where there would be a roaring fire in the fireplace. Rachel and I were talking about the basement not to long ago and she asked me if I remembered the mugs that Grandpa had on a shelf on the wall. Oh yes, I do. They were a series of mugs that had a nak*d woman (was it a mermaid?) climbing out of the mugs. It’s just one of those really odd things that sticks out in our minds. Hehe. We also remember our cousin (Donny? Scott?) that would always roast his socks in the fireplace. Odd.
Those kinds of family memories make up a childhood and are something that I want to be able to share with my kids someday, and I hope that our boys have benefitted from the effort we put into making their Christmases special, and will remember them fondly.
Do you have any quirky traditions? I’d love to hear about them.
Leave me some comments, people! Over 300 of you are reading this blog daily, so now would be a great time to hear from you.
I’m one of those annoying people who plays Christmas music all year round. I figure you can’t be accused of playing it to early if you never stopped. Spotify has become my new best friend this Christmas because I have made my ultimate Christmas playlist with almost 800 songs. Baby E and I listen to it every morning as I’m feeding her breakfast. I’ve got everything from John Denver to Veggie Tales on there. It’s pretty sweet.
Anywho, since both boys are gone this year, and Baby E is too young to participate in a lot of activities, I’m missing a lot of our Christmas traditions this year.
One tradition that has stayed is that Rachel and I do the majority of the Christmas decorating. The past few years Hubby’s dad has gone out to the homestead and finds a tree that he thinks is impressive enough to be honored with the corner position in our living room. He scopes them out all year.
This year’s is a beauty. Hubby and Dad put on the lights and then Rachel and I put on the ornaments the next day with a VHS tape of Muppet Christmas Carol playing on the TV. One of my favorite things about decorating the tree this year was pulling out all of the beautiful ornaments that I bought after Christmas last year. I wait until end of January when all the Christmas stuff is 75% off and then get the really fancy, hand-blown glass ornaments. Another reason I love getting them after Christmas is that I get to experience the fun of re-discovering my treasures all over again the next Christmas. I catch myself saying things like “Oh! That’s so cute!” or “Oh yeah! I remember getting that!” as I un-package my green and red bins….which I also got on clearance after Christmas.
One tradition I’m really missing this year is the nightly lighting of the Advent candles. We started this tradition the first Christmas the boys were with us as a way to introduce them to the wonder of the prophecies and fulfillment of Christ’s birth. We lit the candles every night after dinner and read scripture passages that corresponded. We quizzed the boys on the meaning of each candle as they took turns lighting and then blowing them out. It was a really special thing. I miss it.
Only God knows what our next year will bring, so I know that by this time next year Christmas will have a whole new layer of meaning and tradition. One of my favorite Christmas stories is “All is Well” by Frank E. Peretti. I listen to it year round and actually performed it at competitions in high school. At the close of the story Peretti describes how God is the great story teller of our lives and how He loved us so much that he wrote Himself into our story as a baby in a manger. He came into this earth under extremely adverse circumstances and experienced the rejection and chaos this life has to give. He chose to do that. For me. So even though this year has had a lot of pain and hurt, I am choosing to hold onto joy. Joy that comes from deep inside because of what and whom we celebrate.
Merry Christmas Blessings!
Hannah
***BTW, no one paid me anything for my opinions. They’re just things I like.***
Today you turned 18. We made it! All those nights of crying over you, praying over you, and convincing you and ourselves that we would not give up have paid off. We made it! I am thankful to say that every day gets better.
Who knew that when I was only 8 years old, you were created in your mother’s womb, and one day you would be MY son?
God did.
Who knew that a summer teaching job would lead to the promised motherhood I had been hoping for? Who knew that what the world might see as a random meeting, a random conversation, an odd connection, God would use to make a family, and bring hope to a hopeless child?
God did.
I remember that conversation on that cloudy mountain. I remember your tears and your verbalized hopes and fears for the future. Who would take a chance on a 15 year-old boy who had already been deemed a lost case by the ones he called his parents for 13 years? Who would dare or risk to love a damaged adolescent when he would age out soon enough?
God would.
We would, because he brought you to us.
And you are becoming a man; growing every day in ways that neither you nor we expected; surprising us in the best ways.
Bumps are just bumps, and no longer Mount Everest.
Son, I appreciate you so much. You are a hard worker and such a big help to your mama. (And yes, I am freaking out that I am 26 and am experiencing the first pangs of empty nest syndrome!) You are cuddly when you need to be, and strong when it matters most. I feel safe with you around because I always know that you will step up if I need you.
What I want for you this year is to see you grow into the man that your heavenly Father has called you, created you, and named you to be. I am praying that God will reveal that vision that He has for you to you so clearly that every step you take is toward Him and what He has for you. I want to see you continue to be brave and allow God’s healing to flow in you. I want you to realize and BELIEVE what an amazing, resilient, and intelligent son I have.
My precious Yishai, I love you. I am so glad that God brought you into my life. I am so glad that you are my first born, and I am so blessed to be called your mama. You are truly my gift.
I miss him like crazy. It still hits me in waves. Especially when I hear a song about heaven, or read an article about something science related, or go through a week like last week.
This week I worked up the courage and initiative to go through the boxes (and boxes) of pictures and paper treasures that he had been saving for decades.
I got through the pictures rather quickly, as we had gone through most of them as a family when we were together for his memorial in November. I organized them roughly according to decade and put them in photo boxes that I had purchased (on clearance) for just such an occasion. It was fun to look again at photos documenting my daddy’s early life, and life before me, and then our life together.
The sequencing was interesting to me. To me, the eras were organized roughly as follows: before Dad; Dad as a baby/child/teen; Dad and Mom before kids; Dad and Mom with David and Sarah; Dad and Mom with David, Sarah, me, and Rachel; Dad with Laraine; Dad with David, Sarah, me, and Rachel; Dad with Dane, Amelia, and Justin; and then later, older Dad and Laraine with Amelia; and finally older Dad and Laraine with all of us and our kids.
The phases were just revealing to me.
Anywho, after I got through the pictures I started going through his paper treasures. The man saved a lot of things. I am in the process of sorting what was important to him, but wouldn’t matter much to the rest of us, and what is worth saving as a part of his memory and/or family history.
One thing is for sure. My dad took great pride in his children. He saved a lot of our school work and report cards. He saved lost teeth and hair cuttings. He saved a lot of our art, especially my brothers, and any notes or letters we wrote to him. We were also in the paper quite a bit as kids, and he saved all of those clippings.
Some of the other things he saved are pretty normal I suppose. He saved birth announcements, death announcements, wedding invitations, bulletins that contained important family events or announcements. He saved a lot of news clippings, some of which took some searching to figure out why they were significant, and if they still were.
Some of the most intriguing things that I found are letters to and from Dad. The topics are varying, but each reveals a little bit of who my dad was. Some are notes of encouragement to him from professors, fellow pastors, or board members. Some are rejection letters with best wishes. Some are his letters explaining a conflict or why he felt the Lord was leading him in a different direction. So interesting. Pieces of my dad I was never aware of.
Perhaps I will reflect on individual pieces more later. Some are quite stirring and I am still figuratively chewing on them.
For now, I am just grateful to be experiencing these pieces of my dad.
I’m married to one of the most gadgety men on earth, but we have been talking lately about how much simpler it would have been to live during the pioneer days. Notice, I said simpler, not easier.
Anywho, I’ve been really into this wonderful series by Lauraine Snelling about life in North Dakota in the late 1800′s – early 1900′s. I LOVE IT! Everything about it! The life style, the culture, and the sense of community just fascinates me.
So, my step-mama gave me some books a few years back by Barbara Swell all about old-time cooking. I’ve been delving into them the past few days and am so excited to try some of the new, old recipes I’ve found. I’ve already made an amazing pie crust from this book, and Hubby can’t stop raving about it. Tonight or tomorrow I will be using the same crust to make chicken pot pie. I’m thinking of serving some sweet potato roles along with it.
What I love about the recipes is that they were designed to feed a family with good, fresh, seasonal ingredients. They are intended to be flexible to use whatever produce or meat is available. There is some prep time involved, but most of it is walk away type stuff, like letting dough rise.
Anywho, I will let you know as I try some of these goodies, so you might be tempted to cook old-timey too!
Update:
I made chicken pot pie from scratch last night. My pie crust fell apart, but it was still delicious. I called it “patchwork pot pie.” I also made sweet potato buns. I LOVE sweet potatoes, but the recipe was vague in the timing, and I don’t think I let them cook long enough. They were a little doughy, but I can tell they would have been really good. A really good way to use up sweet potatoes.
Today I made oatmeal no-knead bread. I was looking through ANOTHER one of the cookbooks and found this recipe and realized I had everything I needed on hand, so I decided “Why not?” Plus, making bread from scratch gives a really good opportunity for a science lesson. Jeremiah finds yeast absolutely fascinating. Okay, so I kind of used the phrase “yeast farts” to describe the gas bubbles, but he was really into the whole process. The bread contained molasses, which I found really strong in the crust, but otherwise it was absolutley delightful. It will be really good toasted with tea tomorrow morning.
Blessings!
Hannah
BTW, these are just books I’ve really enjoyed. I’m not receiving any compensation for my reviews.
As of 1:30 PM this afternoon, June 28th 2010, Gabe is officially stubborn! YAY!!!
He was nervous. He ate an entire bowl (like, glad container bowl) of taco casserole, plus a bowl of green grapes, at 11:30. He eats when he’s nervous, and he hates that I know that he eats when he’s nervous.
Jeremiah was nervous. He was bummed because we still don’t have a date for his adoption day. He was a bit mopey, but over all held it together.
Gabe was so excited to have many people who love him and care about him show up for court today. Gabe’s worker was there, as well as our adoption worker, whom we have never met before, so that was great. Hubby’s mom, grandma, and sister were there. Many of our closest friends also made the trip, and thankfully one of them remembered a camera, otherwise we would have been picture-less.
The court hearing was short, as I knew it would be. Gabe was glad that he didn’t have to say much, just a lot of yes sir’s. The judge gave a nice speech that I’ve heard at many adoption proceedings about how this is his favorite part of the job. It was nice. We got a picture with the judge afterwords, and he said he would love a copy. That made me smile.
After court we all headed to a local restaurant for a very fun time of celebrating and laughing together. Gabe felt very loved. That’s because he is. Oh, and he ate A LOT!
After dropping Hubby off at work, we went for a little DQ for dessert. Yum!
Gabe requested our family’s favorite dish, affectionately named “Rufus”, for dinner. It was amazing, as usual. Great job, lovey!
So that was our day. And now we wait for Jeremiah’s. Soon, we hope.
I can’t believe our first Christmas with the boys is already over. It was a good one, though. We made plenty of good memories and had wonderful times with our wonderful family.
Here are a few highlights:
- Christmas Eve
We started the day with a delicious breakfast of biscuits, gravy, and cheesy scrambled eggs. Yummy! Our pastor’s wife passed on a bunch of her amazing recipes to me as a graduation present, and her “Mile High Biscuits” is one of our favorites. I’ll put the recipe at the bottom of this post.
After breakfast, we lit the Jesus Candle on our Advent candles and read our Christmas Eve passages. The boys have really loved this tradition, which we usually do after dinner, so we will have to figure out a way to keep it going. What I’ve loved about it is the set passages that are relatively short and come from all over scripture. I haven’t found many devotionals that break things down that well. Any ideas?
Next, the boys cleaned up the kitchen while the grown-ups finished making sure all presents were in order. The boys finished dishes in record time.
Finally is was present time. In my family, we always opened presents on Christmas Eve. I’m not sure how this tradition started, but I think it was more practical in nature than sentimental. My dad is a pastor, so we always had Christmas Eve service, than we opened our presents, and then left for Grandma’s very early Christmas morning.
My favorite present from my hubby was my very own camcorder! YAY! I shot so much video over the past few days it’s frightening. And don’t worry, I will make sure to share an allarming amount of it here.
The boys loved all their presents, and Jeremiah’s reactions were hilariously enthusiastic. We were worried about him being thankful, but that was definitely not an issue. Way to go, kid.
After opening presents, we headed off to Christmas Eve service at my husband’s childhood church. It was a beautiful traditional service. It made realize how much I need to teach my boys as far as church history is concerned. I think I may be hitting up some of my homeschooling friends for some ideas soon. Actually, the prize I recently won from Kimberly at Raising Olives will be very helpful in that endeavor.
After the beautiful service we headed over to Hubby Person’s dad’s house. We ate entirely too many goodies and then opened even more presents with Grandpa K, Aunt E, Uncle J, and Cousin T. It’s tradition that the youngest in the family passes out all the presents, which is all fine and good, but there were a few issues. First, Jeremiah is not very good with names. Second, Jeremiah is not a very good reader. Those two in combination led to nearly half an hour of hillarity. Kaleb’s dad was nearly falling off his chair laughing because Jeremiah could not get the concept that Grandpa was also Kurt etc… Miah started getting a little antsy toward the end, but held it together long enough to get to play with some of his new toys.
- Christmas Day
Ah, glorious sleep. Both boys were occupied enough with their new bioncles that Hubby Person and I were able to sleep in without a peep from either child.
Jeremiah didn’t like the fact that Mom caught him in a lie, so an hour long tantrum ensued. I knew it was coming. He had had such a good day the day before, he just couldn’t handle it any more. It ended well though, as Hubby Person had a good long conversation with him about how to handle his anxiety.
We headed over to Hubby’s mom’s for dinner. Yay, turkey! Yay, real pumpkin pie! We opened up even more presents. My MIL loved the basket I made her, which I still have to post about. The boys got some remote control cars and the spent a good two hours racing them around Grandma’s basement before heading out to sled. Hubby, Rachel, and I played my SIL’s new Wii with her for a couple of hours as well. Wow, it really is a work out.
The only real bummer about the past few days was that my daddy, step-mama, and lil’ sis got snowed in by the big blizzard and weren’t able to make the trip. It was heart breaking, but I am glad they didn’t risk their lives in the 40 MPH winds. They are going to try to make the trip on Wednesday to be here for the new year.
But we are blessed. Blessed beyond blessed beyond blessed. And it has nothing to do with material things, which we have been blessed with as well. How great is it that even though one set of grandparents couldn’t make it, the boys had two other sets of grandparents that loved on them and cherished them?
How great it is that we have a God who enjoys celebrations! Who enjoys us enjoying Him and all He’s given us.
Okay, that’s enough for now.
Blessings!
Hannah
Oh, I almost forgot! Here’s the biscuit recipe.
Mama Char’s Mile High Biscuits
3 C. flour
2 TB Sugar
5 tsp. Baking Powder
1 tsp. Salt
3/4 Cup shortening (I use the butter flavored Crisco sticks.)
1 C. milk
1 beaten egg
Mix flour, baking powder and salt together. Cut in shortening until it resembles cornmeal. Blend milk and egg together, then add to dry ingredients. Mix only enough to blend mixture. Place dough on well floured board and knead 5-15 times. The secret to light biscuits is to not over mix dough after liquid has been added. Cut into biscuits and place on a baking sheet lightly coated with cooking spray. Bake at 425 for 12-15 minutes until biscuits are golden brown. *Hint* Don’t place biscuits too close together or they will not cook through properly.
I’m so sorry I’ve been away so long. As I said before, we were dealing with some stalking issues, but they seen to have calmed down for now, so I am hoping to resume blogging as usual, although I am going to have to be careful for a while about content until my husband puts some extra security precautions into place.
That said….
Things are…adventurous. Every day seems to bring something new that the Lord is teaching us as a family, and me individually.
This Christmas season has been exciting. We are doing and Advent devotional together as a family every night after dinner. I found a five candle candelabra at a garage sale last year and it has made the perfect Advent candle stand. The boys take turns lighting the candles each night and everyone in the family has a passage to read. Most of Jeremiah’s passages have been out of Isaiah, and he is getting better and better each time he reads. He loves to read out loud, and it’s so fun to see his confidence grow. The boys love learning more about the Lord and more about the history surrounding Christ’s birth. Gabe has been asking some very intuitive questions, and Jeremiah’s enthusiasm is incredibly contagious.
Both boys are handling the Christmas season and the trauma-versaries that come with them in their own ways. Gabe is, of coarse, very introspective and is dealing with some denial about what has happened around this time in the past. Hubby person and I just continue to reassure him that he is safe and that we are never EVER going to leave him.
Jeremiah is much more vocal about his stress and has been having marathon tantrums the past couple of weeks. Thankfully, when he actually FINALLY breaks down and cries, he is very open about what is really scaring him. The biggest things that he has expressed anxiety over is that he has never been in a family of his very own for Christmas before and he is not sure what to expect. He told me (yes, with his own mouth. YAY!) that it would be helpful if I could let me know ahead of time what is going to happen so he knows that Mom and Dad have things under control. Good to know, kid. He has also been having a lot of birth mom questions lately, which I am trying to handle with sensitivity and age-appropriate honesty. Wisdom on this would be helpful.
Jeremiah had his first Christmas concert tonight, which I will proudly post video of as soon as possible. He was amazing! I mean, he sang well, which is awesome, but the best part is that he participated completely. He sang loudly…on the song he remembered the words for…and when he was sitting down he was quietly paying attention and watching the other performers. I loved being there for my son’s first ever holiday concert. What a memory. Hubby person, unfortunately, had to be out of town this week, but Jeremiah knows that Daddy loves him and that he wanted to be there.
Finally, I am on the fertility adventure again. I had my yearly physical with my OBGYN today, and when she found out I haven’t had a cycle since…ummm…FEBRUARY….she was a little concerned. SO. She did an internal ultra sound and was shocked when she discovered that my uterine lining was only .34 cm thick. To put that in perspective, a typical woman’s uterine lining is 1.0 cm thick on day 14 of her cycle. Right before her period, it can be from 2.0 to 2.5 cm thick. Mine was .34. As if I just had a period…except my last one was 9 months ago. Yeah. SO. She has prescribed progesterone for 10 days to help my body get the signal that “Hey! Do something with the uterus!” After that, we are going to try clomid again, but at a higher dose this time, to try to get those darn ovaries to wake up. WAKE UP OVARIES!!!!
Okay, so those are the current adventures. God is good. He is taking care of us in crazy ways…including putting another infertile, adoptive, Christian mom in my path today in the Christian book store so I could unload for an hour after my appointment before coming home to the boys. If you think of us, pray for us, and if you need prayer, just let us know.
, and Rachel was baby Jesus. One of my favorite Christmas memories is a video we have of Rachel at about 16 months old in a laundry basket manger. She would just not stay in! So Sarah kept pushing her down and Rachel kept standing right back up, smiling up a storm. When Rachel was too old to be baby Jesus any more, her role was changed to a shepherd and a cabbage patch kid replaced her as the Holy child. 
