Traditional

Christmas Eve is full of the anticipation, the waiting, the stories, the candles and lights.

Christmas morning is full of joy, excitement, crinkling of paper, hugs, and laughter.

After opening the presents on Christmas morning, the rest of Christmas Day has always felt a little anti-climatic. An emotional low after the gift-giving high. The presents are opened...now what.

Christmas this year didn't feel like that at all.

From our bedroom door being thrown open at 7 am by bright-eyed children, to the present opening, to the cinnamon smells from brunch, to setting up of marble tracks and watching of movies, to the smells of dinner, to the snowman building (and knocking over) in the backyard, to the stories and kisses at bedtime...the entire day felt like Christmas.

This Christmas had a similar feeling to when we watched the train moved away towards the west, carrying my mom and my little brother, who had come to help us move to Iowa. We felt, that truly for the first time, we were on our own.

This Christmas, it was up to us, and just us, to create those holiday memories for our boys. Memories like the ones we all have. Full of magic, and treats, and presents, and happiness.

This Christmas, we had to be the ones to create the traditions.

Opening one gift Christmas Eve...

Reading Night Before Christmas, My Penguin Osbert, The Crippled Lamb, and the Nativity story from the Bible...

Presents early Christmas morning...

Monkey bread, fruit, and juice for brunch after presents...

Games, movies, playing in the afternoon...

Brown sugar glazed ham with au gratin potatoes for dinner...

It's the first time for many of these things, but it still felt comfortable...and traditional.

When Monkey came in from playing in the snow, he hugged me around my legs and exclaimed, "I'm just so happy!"

That, combined with the joy on the boys' faces, and the feeling of happiness so palpable in our home, let us know that Christmas memories are well on their way.