Christmas

It's January 13.

I have yet to blog about Christmas.  I blame my busy schedule and all I have "to do" but that's quite the laughable excuse!  I have nothing BUT time and am not very good at using it.  I am only good at time management when I have lots to do.

So forgive me if I have lots to say today.  Orrrr, maybe over the next week.  I am procrastinator extraordinaire!

So, Christmas.

Isn't it funny when the fuzzy warm memories of our past taint the present?  With the weather moving in the week before Christmas, I was anxiously pulling up The Weather Channel website and looking at the forecast for our long drive across I-80.  What was once clear was suddenly showing snow in every GD town across Nebraska and Iowa on the day we were to drive.  We thought about taking off Wednesday night and staying a night somewhere along the way to break up the drive and get ahead of the precipitation.  But instead of the half day John had to work, it turned into a full, exhausting day due to a visit from a new Congressman.  Many posts (but this post in particular, due to it's size...or lack thereof) aim to please our law makers as they also heavily influence our funding.

So, I was a bit worried.  I was anxious that we wouldn't make it!  What would come of our holiday if we didn't make it???  Oh, the travesty!  I had all the presents wrapped and packed!  All the baked goods baked!  There was so much joy to share!!  What if we didn't make it????

Well, we made it just fine.  (A bit of snow in IA, but not much else.  Just a long and boring drive.)  But, it was just not the warm and fuzzy Christmas I remembered of years gone past.

Now, I know what you're thinking.  You're thinking that sometimes our memories of warm and fuzzy Christmases past are somewhat over romanticized and we don't remember how hectic they can actually be...often leading to disappointment.  Well, there is truth in that.  But there are a few years, when the whole family is together, and we are at my parents house and it's snowing and there is game playing and hikes, and playing in the back yard, and a general over consumption of food and drink...and laughter.  There are a few years in my memory that really stick out as some of my favorite Christmases.  1995, my senior year in Highschool.  2002 with all of us in Mexico (ok...not with the snowing and hikes, but with diving).  2004 when everybody was in town and I met Kelsea (at 8 mos old) and we had a great New Years as well.  That was also the year of the Turducken.  And 2006 for the twins' first Christmas...when it was the first of 4 blizzards that would sweep through Colorado that winter.  These are all in my (relative) adulthood.  Of course I don't expect anything like in my childhood.

But, alas, it was not to be.  Grandma forgot her hearing aids and rather than be perplexed by the conversation we were having, she opted to turn up the basketball game to full volume so that a) she could hear it and b) it would drown everyone else out.  Which, in turn, did not allow for conversation between us unless we were shouting.  One member of my family, who shall remain unidentified, insisted upon monopolizing the conversation so much that it was hard to get a word in edgewise.  It was all just very loud and stressful.
The only tradition that was really observed was stockings and Swedish Pastry and standing rib roast.  No Scotch Eggs, as I had promised John, as Mom wanted to try an Amish egg casserole.  It was OK.  I was in charge of the ribbon salad (jello type dessert) and between the fat free cream cheese, the stale marshmallows and the half recipe it just did not turn out well.

I guess I really wanted to show John what a McClurkin Christmas was like and how much I adored them.   The rest of the trip went well, however.  Much more like I had imagined it, but with fewer people - just my folks and my aunt and us.  We drank, played games, went on hikes, had lunch with friends, and ate snacks.  Yes, I brought too many snacks.  Yes, I gained a MILLION pounds.  Yes, I'm surprised my heart didn't give way under the load of butter I shoved down my gullet.  (In the form of baked treats and side dishes.)

At the end of Christmas, I just looked at him and said "Next year, if you're here (meaning stateside), we can do whatever you want."  We can go to Chico, we can stay home, we can go to Houston (as Joel and his fam is much more fun to hang around and no longer travel to my parent's house for Christmas because it's just too much trouble with small twin children).  I don't care.

But, after all my excitement of sharing our family Christmas with the newest member of our family, I suddenly realized things will never be like it was again.  I miss it, but am excited for when we have our own Christmas.  And we can make the parents choose where they want to be for the holiday.  For the first time, I really really empathized with my sister in law.  She was the one who started putting her foot down when it came to "coming home" at the holidays with the kids.

But I just get it now.