This is for you, Honey

It is the holiday season and I have been taking walks down memory lane for the last couple of days. Watching my children discover and relish this season makes me think of my Christmas experiences as a child. As I remember some of the Christmases past, I realize that the holiday season is a sort of "comfort food" for me. Don't get me wrong, I also have actual foods that are comforts to me, but it seems that everything I do during the holidays are things that I loved as a child. In some way, repeating them year after year with my own family makes me feel innocent, care-free, and peaceful. Kinda' like the best of both worlds: you get to be all grown up and still feel oblivious to everything outside your little bubble.

Isn't that what traditions are? At the heart of every tradition isn't there that feeling of security in the way things have always been? When you work to keep traditions, it makes you feel at home. Like everything is familar. Traditions help us relive "the good times". Sometimes traditions remind us of the hard times, too. So maybe I should say, traditions help us remember the important times.

Tonight, my mind is full of my family Christmas traditions. I remember the smell of Christmas. Hot, ready to drink apple cider makes the house smell sooo gooood!! I loved comming home from school on the day that Mom had decorated the house. Leave a normal house in the morning and come home to a Christmas extravaganza in the afternoon! I remember driving around town to look at Christmas lights. I remember laying in bed for hours waiting for my digital alarm clock to say 7:00am so my brother and I could wake my parents on Christmas morning. I remember when my brother was old enough to tell time and he would come convince me to get in bed with him so we could wait together for the minutes to tick away. I remember having Christmas Eve dinner with my dad's side of the family. Most of the time the cousins would all be in town and we would watch the channel 10 news to hear of any Santa sightings. I remember making breakfast on Christmas morning. After all the Santa surprises had been discovered, we would all pitch in and make a finger food breakfast. Monkey bread, mini quiche, sausage balls, and little smokies were always on the menu. I remember waiting for my mom's family to arrive at our house so we could open our presents. Mema always put our gifts in a big trash bag instead of wraping them individually. It was so fun to open my bag of treats and pull out all the surprises. Mema could never make us wait until after lunch. She was always there early so we could open presents before the lunch preparations began.

When I was in 2nd grade, Santa brought me my favorite baby doll, Joni. I treated her like she was a real live baby. I changed her diaper regularly, I changed her clothes everyday, I made Mema babysit her when we went on vacation. I carried her everywhere I went. If I went to the grocery store with my mom, I carried Joni. I would wrap her up and cradle her just right, and everyone thought she was a real baby. She is my most treasured childhood posession. When I see her I am instantly back in my care-free, fairytale, innocent childhood. The same way I am when my family is together again, and I am making all the fixins' for our finger food breakfast.

Bubba is a great help when we make monkey bread, and maybe this year we will let Brooke and Mary TuTu get in on the breakfast fun. I hope Christmas traditions become as special to my children as they are to me. I would love to eat monkey bread on Christmas morning for many years to come!