As Christmas closes in...I have spent a lot of time trying to think of ways to make Christmas memorable for my boys. Trying to find ways that I can make Christmas more of an event for my boys, than just toys. The toys. The toys are driving me crazy. I know they want them, but as I'm getting older old now, I try to remember back to what I remember about Christmas, and I can hardly remember one, single, toy.
I do remember the Christmas where Dad must've got a bonus. It was nice. There was a cardboard toy house, and my sister got a Ronald McDonald doll. I don't even remember what I got that day, but I remember her joy as she picked up the Ronald McDonald (she must've been around 5 or so) and just hugged and hugged him. That was so cute. But toys for me, I don't really remember.
What I do remember was what came along with every Christmas (bonus or not), and that was Grandma's house. Both Grandma's. At the time I didn't realize it, but it was just awesome.
To this day, I remember the smell when I walked into Grandma Breuer's house - and I can recreate it in my own home by just putting a ham in the oven. The beautiful smell of ham and potatoes and cookies and just... Christmas. That is the only way I can describe it, because that is what it was for me.
I remember trying to fit six cousins on one piano bench while we let her player piano play "White Christmas", while my oldest cousin, Tim, sang at the top of his lungs. (Being the oldest, he got the solo gig).
I remember the Crayola Caddy I would receive every Christmas. And although I'm not sure she knew the value to me, I would cherish it every day of the next coming year. I wish I could tell her that to this day.
I remember Christmas at her house like it was yesterday, because with my Grandma, you followed a strict routine. After dinner, the adults would sit at the table and possible enjoy a bottle of wine, while the kids went to the basement to ride on the big wheels and tricycles that lined her unfinished basement. The six of us would go around and around and around, and usually know when we pushed the limits with the noise we were making when Grandma herself, would open the door and take about two or three steps down the stairway into the basement, her heels making big "clacking" noises on the stairs. That's when we knew we really needed to be quiet (instead of the 10 times our own parents stuck their head through the door.)
We always spent time at one Grandma's house, and soon as that Christmas was closing, we headed over to the next Grandma's house. I'm sure the day was busy and stressful for my parents, but for me, it was awesome. When we got to the "next Grandma's" house, we had leftovers from her dinner, played her piano, and my sister and I usually retreated to her spare bedroom for some peace and quiet, which was much welcomed after the busy day we had already had. We were usually spent, but always happy to be at Grandma's house, because she was Grandma.
I could ramble on and on about my memories of Christmas, and what made them so special for me, but it would be so hard to summarize those because it was just about everything. It was everything that happened in the day that made it so special.
So I am so careful with my boys know. In my effort to make the day "perfect", I don't want to ruin the opportunity for the day to happen as it was supposed to. I find myself really, really trying to find the things that they will remember. I know it won't be the toys, and it won't be the clothes. It could be the smallest things like, what we had for dinner, or, what did the cousins do together after dinner?
This holiday season, think to yourself, what really make the holidays special for you? And what do you really want the day to end... feeling like? What is your perfect Christmas day?
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