I think I've mentioned that since moving to a developing country and foregoing regular gatherings with our friends and family, having limited (at least, slower and more expensive) access to internet, and enjoying three hour long rest periods in the middle of every work day, Topher and I have gained a great deal more time to simply sit and chat with one another.
And chat we do.
Recently, one chat revolved around the Christmastimes we enjoyed as a child and would like to have with our as-yet-to-be-conceived-but-often-key-players-in-my-imagination children when the stork drops them off on our doorstep in coming years.
As it turns out, the Toph and I are both very big tradition-ists. Not traditionalists. No, rather we're both rather focused on the traditions we grew up with as children. Many of our respective traditions fit rather nicely, like the pieces in a pricey puzzle you might buy in a gift shop in Jackson Hole or Ocean City (see how I did that, and referenced places of meaning for me and the husband?!)
Annnnddddd, some will require a bit more...finagling.
We both believe in parties. I grew up with my family throwing elaborate, food and fun filled Christmas Eve parties until my nineteenth year of life, when my parents sold my childhood home (no hard feelings, there. It's not like I didn't get to say goodbye and heard only through text about the weekend spent ripping up the nail-polish stained carpet in my room and the whitewashing of the walls I had spent many an afternoons gazing at, admiring our floor to ceiling wall paper, as was the custom of builder grade homes from the 1980s.)
(Only kidding there, Mom. Really, no hard feelings.)
(Just trying to preempt the sure to come text when she wakes up and reads this blog via phone. Love you Cindy!)
Chris also grew up with a big party around the Eve of Christmas. Both of our parties were made up of mainly church and neighborhood friends, and the family members who lived within driving distance or were visiting for the holidays.
So, there will be parties. We have yet to agree if the party will be a Christmas Eve-Eve party or just Christmas Eve party, or another random weekend before Christmas day party. We have some years to decide officially, but family and friends, be excited for 2013, when we will kick this tradition off.
At said parties, the food present is of utmost importance. For me, two kinds of fudge (known, even in our Marsh household, as "Mom's fudge" and "Dad's fudge"), nutmeg log cookies, sugar cookies from my family recipe (used as wedding favors for our 2010 nuptials!), and "Tom and Jerry's," a sweet, egg and rum based concoction that I need to hear being whipped into a frenzy for it to really feel like Christmas to me.
For Chris, it's caviar, pate and deviled eggs. Candied bacon and various other finger foods.
(I mean, it's safe to say which of our food 'musts' are more versatile and kid friendly. I mean, I'm not knocking Topher's caviar or deviled eggs, even if you couldn't pay me with all the Christmas trees in the world to eat more of those items than I already have to satisfy my universal rule of 'try everything once.' I'm not calling those foods strange or unusual or even somewhat unpalatable. No, that's your job in the comments.)
There will also be stockings.
Stockings are of the utmost importance to both Chris' family and mine. For me, stockings are the first thing to be opened on Christmas morning, and they are chock full of special Christmas candies (like chocolate oranges! and chocolate shaped like bells!) and little, significant presents. For a great deal of my life, every Christmas, I received a new cross (like, the little baby Jesus' cross) necklace and it was always in my stocking and it was always beautiful. Stockings are gift cards, and that exciting moment when you reach your hand in and you just.don't.know.what's.NEXT! And your name is embroidered on the stocking with a Santa and his fluffy (real fluff!) beard underneath, relaxing in a chair with a puppy at his feet that your paternal grandmother knit for you when you were a wee babe and will be your stocking until the end of time, forever and ever, amen. That's Christmas, that is.
And for Chris. Stockings are pretty much THE event in his family. They aren't even stockings? They're giant bags that everybody fills with everything, from those expensive little gift cards to a new year's supply of razors. And it's crazy, but it's awesome, and you end up loving every item, from the new tee shirt of your favorite sports team to the solar-powered book light that Gaga gave you because she knows you like to read, even after the sun sets. And it's at the same time terrifying and overwhelming and exhilarating and your heart's full to bursting with the pure joy of dozens of little things rolling around a giant bag just for you and each new grab is another moment of "oh my GOD who knew this was EXACTLY what I needed?! Was it you? You? You! Thank YOU!" And your hit with gratitude as you remember how much these people in this family love you and spend hours scouring places for even tiny little things that will brighten your life in the coming year.
And at this point, you're probably also wondering how in the Wenceslas Topher and I will manage to combine some seemingly starkly-different traditions into a semblance of two that are replicable and yet also honor both of our time-honored Christmastimes past?
I have no idea.
But, god donkey, I'm excited to try!
are you more of a fudge and cookie kind of christmas pal, or a pate and caviar pancakes person?
ooh i love all these traditions. especially the food ones, they are making my mouth water. here's to future christmas eve parties!
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