Every year on Christmas morning my brother and I would wake up and open our stockings which would be full of wrapped gifts, which were generally small trinkets and a Toblerone bar. We loved the stocking routine and would tear into it with wild abandon. Then after Mom woke up we would take all of the presents from under the tree and pile them into the car. My brother and I would be dressed and Mom would stay in her pajamas and we would drive to my grandparents house, which would be full of cousins and aunts and uncles. We would add our presents to the pile which peaked half way up Grannie and Grampa's 5 foot tree.
Looking at all of the presents was torture for all of the cousins, we knew that we had hours of fun waiting, but we were forbidden from it. We all had to eat breakfast of smoked kippers and eggs first, then clean up and then assemble in the livingroom, announce a "Santa". The lucky Santa would give everyone each one gift from the pile and we would go around the room each opening theirs in turn. The recipient would thank the giver and we would all ohh and ahh over it, and the process would repeat. It was torture! Finally the whole system would break down and we would all be opening at the same time. Then drunk off of the whole escapade we would sit and revel in our presents, often being coerced to eat something delectable or we would be chased out of the house, so we all could play together.
The rest of the day would be a blur of food, cousins, wrapping paper and tempers. There was bound to be a temper tantrum or argument of some sort, dividing the cousins. All of the hurt feelings would be soothed with pumpkin pie after dinner. Once the dishes were once again cleared and cleaned, the aunts and uncles would round up the cousins and leave with their booty. Eventually it would just be my brother and I, our mom and grandparents. We were always the last to leave, and we wouldn't always take all of our booty home that night. It would trickle home over the next couple days.
As the cousins got older and aunts and uncles moved away the whole process started to break down. There would be a smaller gathering, and the cousins who were there wouldn't bring their under the tree gifts, as it was cumbersome. My mom still made sure we brought ours though, and the cousins would watch us open more gifts than them. We weren't as willing to go and play outside, so we would roam around the grandparents house, bored and anxious. Dinner would come and go, and it would be fabulous, always capped with pumpkin pie.
Adam's Christmases were similar, the children would open one present the night before, after much cajoling and begging by the children. The parents would pick out the gift and it would always be pajamas, ensuring the children all matched and were cute in their Christmas Day pictures. Adam recalls it took a few years before they realized that it was always pajamas the night before.
The next morning the children would open their stockings as soon as they woke up and wait for the parents to join them before starting on the under the tree gifts, then came breakfast, or brunch and family time. As him, his brother and their cousin aged, they would wake up later and later every year. Soon they were being woken by their parents, not the other way around. The simple thrill of unwrapping a gift became less thrilling and family time became more interesting. Soon there was no breakfast, only brunches, and childish exuberance lost.
Now Adam and I are about to have our first Christmas together as a married couple. I'm anxious to have our own traditions, and keep some of our old ones. We've decided that we will prepare a stocking for each other this year, and I have insisted that the gifts in the stocking be wrapped. It was something my mom always did and I always loved. Adam is less enthused about extra wrapping. We've also decided that rather than giving each other gifts we will, instead, give one to ourselves. I've tried to think of other traditions that we can start now, but it's hard. He insists that traditions happen and aren't really created. I understand this, but I still want to come up with something. Even if it's small, like having a certain kind of cookie, or listening to a specific song. I want something that is identifiable to us, to create a legacy of our little family that our children will remember and totally take for granted.
