Christmas traditions

My mom called this morning to tell me that she was going to be giving the lesson in Young Women's today, and she was SO EXCITED, because the lesson was on traditions. Mom and I get pretty excited about traditions, because we think they're great memory makers. We talked for about half an hour before I had to go out the door to my own church meetings, and I've been thinking ever since about our Christmas traditions - what they are and what they mean to me.

I'll share just a few:

sugar cookies - baking them, frosting them AND eating them
Harry Connick Jr's Christmas album - I cannot get enough of the big brass sound
fudge - at least 3 different kinds
dipping pretzels (for hours) as we talk around the table
cold cereal in snack-sized boxes
microwave popcorn as a meal
watching movies all day Christmas day
the garland around the living room ceiling
Mom's wall of Christmas photos
watching (and quoting) White Christmas all month long
going caroling with Mom
having a friend come over to play the piano while Mom, Kate and I sing
Christmas tree pizzas
the unofficial seating arrangement in the living room Christmas morning
waking up SUPER early because it's Christmas, even though we're all grown up
Queen Anne chocolate covered maraschino cherries
the Milk Dud cartons on top of the freezer

The 25 Days of Christmas book

I tell you, I could go on and on. I know that most of the stuff I typed up there won't sound familiar (or even make sense) to most of you, and that's okay. These are my family's Christmas traditions. You have your own, as you should. There are things that we do that my mom's family did, there are things that we do that my dad's family did, there are things that no other family (including the Griswolds) would have ever done, but we do it and we love it. (Insert a visual of Tyler's bacon-wrapped Christmas tree pizza from last year.)

Traditions. They are memory makers. They make the holiday, the magic, the relationships we have with our loved ones real. I am grateful for them, for the sameness of things from year to year. Going home to my parents house and opening the living room door to see the wall of stockings that have been hung in the same place all of my life? That's when I know that I am home, on so very many levels.

My word, I love Christmas! And so much of why I love it is wrapped up in the way my parents taught me how to celebrate it. I'm grateful for music and candy and laughter. Out of all the things we do, having fun together - I think, anyway - is the most important. Thanks for the memories, thanks for the silly (and meaningful) traditions that we have, Mom and Dad. So much of why I love Christmas is because the two of you did. Thanks for raising me right.