3:49 p.m. - 2003-12-15
Evolving traditions
Holidays get a lot more complicated when you aren't single any more. When I was growing up (and, really, until I started dating Jamie, so up until three Christmases ago), Christmas was very easy. On Christmas Eve, we hung our stockings, left out mince pies and brandy for Santa (my parents had convinced us that he'd like that better than cookies and milk), left him a note, and went to bed.
We'd wake up in the morning, and I'd go and jump on Bonkles' bed until she'd wake up, which she always dragged out just to torture me. We'd go downstairs and open our stockings, and then we'd have cinnamon buns and fresh squeezed orange juice for breakfast. My parents and my sister would drink coffee, and I would hop around the house being excited. Then, we all had to get dressed. Again, Bonkles would take HOURS, whereas I'd be ready to go in five minutes, and I'd hop around the house some more nagging her to hurry up, which would inevitably lead to her being even slower. Fortunately, my parents caught onto this, and started putting something to amuse me in my stocking so I'd be quiet for a while. The last couple of years, I've gone online to chat with online friends and that's been a good way to keep myself occupied.
Once we were all dressed and looking respectable (no pajamas allowed at our Christmas tree!), we'd be allowed into the living room, where the Christmas tree was waiting for us. We'd spend a leisurely few hours opening gifts, and then the lounging around portion of the day would begin. My parents, for many years, went to have champagne with the neighbours, and my sister and I would watch a movie or play with new gadgets or whatever.
We had dinner at around 4-5, so there was usually a good number of hours to fill in between. Sometimes I'd have a nap, or go for a walk, but more often I'd rip through my new books and listen to my new CDs. It was peaceful and laid back, and I liked it that way. Dinner was just the four of us, with a turkey, stuffing, roast potatoes, cranberry sauce, and various vegetables. My parents would have wine and my sister and I would have cranberry juice and ginger ale. These days, she tends to go for the wine, but I still prefer the fizzy punch. Last year I got a punch bowl from Jamie's mum, and so we made fancy punch that, due to lack of space in the kitchen, had to sit on the bathroom counter. I took a picture, because it amused me.
After dinner, we'd watch a movie (a Christmas one), and I'd usually fall asleep on the floor. (I blame the turkey.) Dad would go to bed early, and the house would be quiet, and Christmas would be over.
Now, it's not that simple any more. Once we've opened our presents, Jamie will come over and exchange gifts with my family. After hanging out at my house for a while, we'll go to his. Last year, my sister came with us, and she'll probably do that again this year, so she's not at home by herself. We go to Jamie's, and there are another zillion presents waiting for me there, and I have a zillion presents to give out, to his parents and his brothers and his sister in law and his brother's girlfriend and his niece and nephew, and there are people everywhere and it's noisy and crazy and everyone's trying to do six hundred things at once, and his nephew wants to show off all six hundred of his gifts (my sister was an excellent audience for this last year, and as a result, Jamie's nephew thinks she's fabulous), and his niece will be the same this year now that she's old enough to grasp what's going on. There are three kinds of punch on the kitchen table and chocolate and snacks everywhere, and it's a total zoo. It's about as different as you could get from my house on Christmas and the thing that blew me away last year was how much I loved it. I didn't want to leave. I wanted to stay there all afternoon, and eat Christmas dinner with dozens of people and six kinds of salad dressing, and do all the things I don't do at home.
How could this have happened? How did I, the staunchest believer in Christmas the way it always had been, find myself longing for Christmas somewhere else? It's very strange, and a sign of how much I adore Jamie and how much I love his family. I'm comfortable there - I'll go over there when he isn't home, and just hang out with his family.
And so Christmas is a little different these days, and I'm not sure how it will evolve over the next few years. Jamie and I will spend Christmas Eve together, just the two of us, and after we go to church, it'll technically be Christmas Day and Jamie will allow me to open my gift, and we'll sit in the flickering light of the tree and the fire, and it will be magical like it always is. And I guess I'll worry about the rest of it when I get there.
