Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Christmas Traditions

Christmas traditions are important to me. I have a treasure of memories stored in the silver sparkle of my memory from growing up.

Since I met Scott, we’ve begun to carve our own traditions, and I have a new sparkle of memories from our times together.

One important tradition is our annual drive around town to view the beautiful Christmas displays that people painstakingly put on their lawns. We do it every year a week or two before Christmas and feast on Swiss Miss and Microwave Popcorn.

Because I am a bit of a perfectionist, I wanted to one-up myself this year and opted to not make Swiss Miss and Microwave Popcorn. Oh no, that isn’t good enough! I am going to make HOMEADE Hot Chocolate and pop the popcorn myself on the stove. Drench the popcorn in butter and call this feast supper for my children.

The evening started off like usual this year, driving around town, viewing lights, singing Christmas Carols and eating our decadent treat. Mid-trip we stopped at Grandma and Grandpa Nest’s to use their restroom (oddly, also part of our normal tradition). On the road again, armed with Venison Jerky, a gift from Grandpa Dan, we munched along. Not long after getting into the van, Austin and Connor both started to complain that they didn’t feel well and they asked for real supper. WHAT? Real supper isn’t Buttery Popcorn and Hot Chocolate? Surely you jest – these can’t be my kids.

After enough whining we made a quick detour to Taco Bell and then across the street to McDonald’s, so we could thoroughly spoil our little ‘angels’ and get them everything their heart desires.

Now don’t get this wrong. Our kids aren’t normally this indulged. This is a Christmas thing. Remember, this mom is all about creating memories, and I know that spoiling is one way to make this time of year stand out in their minds.

About 5 minutes after hitting the road after our stop at McDonald’s, the whining hasn’t stopped, and we’re thinking that perhaps our kids mean that they really do feel yucky.

We park the van to get situated, and as I get out to check on Peyton, he throws up.

Everywhere

A horrific mixture of horrible awful vomit.

All over him

All over the van

Everywhere

I am woefully unprepared for such a catastrophe. I am actually a bit unsure how you could prepare for such an event.

Did I mention that it was E-V-E-R-Y-W-H-E-R-E?

I did what any unprepared mother would do – grabbed the bath mat that serves as our floor mat under the kids, and covered Peyton with that.

Dumped the leftover popcorn into one bowl and had Peyton hold on tight, with strict instructions to throw up in there should the need arise again.
I got back into the passenger seat of the van.

And laughed! How could you not laugh?
I worked about 45 minutes trying to make the perfect Christmas memory with fancy popcorn and hot chocolate.

Peyton one upped me in about 4 seconds, by creating what will be the main memory from this years Festival of Lights.

Memories, it's all about the memories

A friend of mine, Robin Costello, or "Delswife" in the Disney circles, tragically passed away recently. Much too young, it left all of her friends a bit shocked.

Dealing with the grief of her loss has been a challenge for me. However, what has given comfort to me, and her other friends, are her stories.

Now, to be fair, Robin is an amazing storyteller. She's an amazing person, but boy can she tell stories. You laugh, cry, and then laugh again through your tears. Her skills were powerful, and we're lucky that she wrote as much as she did.

So, why am I, an un-gifted storyteller, suddenly venturing out into the blogging world? Because of Robin's kids.

The loves of Robin's life were her four kids, Chris, Nikki, Brandy, and Emily. Our grief, as friends, is nothing compared to that of her four beautiful children.

What's giving them comfort is her stories. Not because she's gifted as a story teller, but because the stories are about them and their lives.

Memories, it's all about the memories.

So, for my three angels, Austin, Connor, and Peyton, who are the little loves of my life, this is my legacy to you. Stories about your family and your lives.

Love,
Mom