Thankful

Last week I was in a funk.  My parents were not going to be here for Thanksgiving.  My sister had adorable twins (who I can't wait to hold), and my parents were going to stay at her house to lend a hand.  I was feeling selfish and sad, like a small child.  I wanted everything to be the same.  For once in my life, I was not happy with the change in tradition. 

Almost every year at Thanksgiving, we go to my Mom's house.  My whole family comes.  My Mom invites lots of people, and we spend the time talking, laughing, and mostly eating.  I love seeing all my relatives.  I love the festivities and the overload on food.  I love the way my Mom's kitchen smells, conjuring up images from my youth. 

Then Hubby picked up a free turkey from Publix for getting his flu shot.  For some reason, he decided bigger was better and picked up a 16 pound turkey.  He said we'd just have that and some mashed potatoes.  And I said NO.  I said, I'm going to cook.  I'm going to make a Thanksgiving for our children. 

I set the menu, and I cooked and cooked all day long.  We have enough food left over to feed an army, but it was worth it to give my children a Thanksgiving that they will always remember, even if it was just with our small little family.

I pulled out the fine China.  We hadn't used it since Hubby and I moved into our apartment in Gaithersburg, MD, nine years ago.  I made beef bouillabaisse for him, and we ate off the fine China.

I spread out the food on the breakfast room table, and took a photo of all the mountains of food we will be eating over the next few weeks.  (And freezing some too). 

Number One recited his Thankful poem from school, and then we went around the table saying what we were thankful for.

Number One said: I am thankful for all of you. 

Number Two said: I am thankful for this knife.

Darling Daughter said: Food

I said: I am thankful that all of you are here with me now.  I love you, and I can't imagine my life without you.

Hubby said: He was thankful his leg was finally healed.

And then we dug into the mountains of food we had made.  Afterwards we took naps, and then went over to our neighbors' house for dessert, which was amazing and decadent!  I will need to run a lot of miles over the next few days...

I'm thankful this year for my kids, for my Hubby who has put up with a lot from me over this year, for my parents, for my siblings, my nieces and nephews.  I'm thankful I have a job and I can put food on the table to fill my childrens' bellies.  I'm thankful for my Taekwondo friends who keep me going sometimes, when the going gets tough.  I'm thankful for my best friend who is ALWAYS there to listen to me whine and complain about life.  There are too many things to list. 

Let's be thankful every day for what we have. 

This is Halloween...

This is Halloween...

 

The anticipation grows, the thought of sweet candies plucked into little mouths, smiles spread across their faces.  Is this the devil's holiday?  I think not.

 

Son Number One told me several kids in his class think that Halloween is the devil's holiday.  I can only think this is being spread by their churches, because we live in the South, and churches have a way of incorporating ideas into small children's heads.  (This is not always a bad thing). 

 

In the United States, Halloween is a secular holiday.  The point of the holiday is for children to go door to door in cute costumes and gather candy.  Can you see the devil in these children?  Ha-just kidding. 

 

 

 

Where did Halloween come from?  All sources point to a 2000 year old Celtic tradition, called the Festival of Samhain.  Halloween comes at the time right between Fall and Winter, where coldness is coming in, concepts such as life and death were being addressed, and the lands will soon be fallow.  The Celts dressed up in costumes and lit bonfires to ward off bad spirits or ghosts, probably as a way to seek protection for the coming harshness of the winter.  Also, a pagan holiday, and nothing to do with the devil. 

 

Later in the 8th Century, Pope Gregory III designated November 1 as All Saint's Day.  This is a day to celebrate saints and martyrs.  October 31 became All Hallows' Eve, which eventually turned into the secular holiday of Halloween.  In Latin America, All Saint's Day is called the Day of the Dead, in which the people honor their deceased relatives. 

 

Pull out the candy, and get ready for trick or treaters...

 

Happy Halloween!!!

Christmas Traditions: The Past Meeting the Present

I’m an early riser, like my father, and it gives me time to reflect on life, before the chaos of daily life begins.  In the wake of Christmas, I was just thinking about how amazing traditions are. 

When I was little, every Christmas Eve my parents would make something disgusting for dinner: oyster stew (yes, I like it now, but as a child I thought it was disgusting).  I generally would not eat.  We would open one present from under the tree, the anticipation building throughout the day for that special moment, to know what we had received! 

After opening presents, we would normally hop into the car to go look at Christmas lights.  There was always one particular house down in a neighborhood near ASU that was decked out with so many Christmas lights, blow up Santas and reindeers in the yard, and it just made me giddy with excitement!

After arriving home, we would gather around my Dad’s piano (a Wurlitzer back then) to sing Christmas carols.  None of us have great voices, but we would just belt out those tunes, laughing and giggling the whole time! 

After singing, we sat on the white couch in the living room and Dad would read “The Night Before Christmas,” and the bible story: Luke 2:1-20.  We were just itching to crawl into bed at this point, so that we could wake up the next day to see what Santa had brought.

I would pass the night, tossing and turning, dreaming about waking up to the presents and candy!  One year I even threw up, because I was so excited! Usually around 3 or 4, I would creep out of bed and wake up my sisters and brother.  We would sit on the landing on top of the stairs, just listening to see if Mom and Dad would ever wake up.  We’d usually sit up there for a few hours before they’d open their bedroom door, located at the bottom of the stairs, and tell us to come on down.  Sometimes, they’d make us sit in the breakfast room and eat before seeing what Santa brought (and no matter what, he’d always put an orange in our stockings!).

These traditions make for great memories.  Repeating the same tradition year after year helps you hold onto parts of the past that are important.  We’re resuming a lot of these traditions now, with our family and I hope they have just as wonderful memories of their past Christmases as I do.