I love so many of the traditions associated with Christmas ...
The tree (even if nowadays it looks vastly different to the green tinsel tree we had as children growing up) ...
Christmas Parade ...
Carols in the park ...
Making Christmas pudding ...
Stockings ...
Christmas lights ...
And top-to-toe spring cleaning of the house.
However, there are some traditions I don't enjoy.
Stress ... which I must admit is less this year since we won't be hosting Christmas dinner at our house. Funnily enough, as relaxed as I've been this weekend about housework the house is still as clean looking as it is those years when I over-stress about it looking perfect. DH and I have even managed to do some work in the garden and Sons#4 and #5 moved furniture for me so that my new guest room is finally finished (after seven years!) and my bedroom no longer does double duty as a study.
Arguing ... I'm not going to say too much about this as now that I'm an adult and have my own wounds, I realise that others also operate from a place of brokenness and that Christmas is a time when we often cannot hide our wounded spirits. Sadly, I have been painfully aware this weekend that this can all too easily become a tradition in other families.
There are, too, some traditions from my childhood that I remember fondly but which have died out for one reason or another ...
Granddad choking, year after year, on the sixpence in his Christmas pudding (why did he never learn?) ...
Performing musical items year after year at our church's Christmas Day service (were they that desperate for talent?) ...
Visiting, and singing, at the local old people's home ...
Christmas beetles that would crunch underfoot and hide down your clothes ...
And an evening swim at my aunt's place where we tried desperately to respond intelligently to the kind curiosity of much, much older cousins.
Whatever traditions we keep or drop, one tradition will never change: that of remembering the reason for the season.
Happy Christmas everyone!
The tree (even if nowadays it looks vastly different to the green tinsel tree we had as children growing up) ...
Carols in the park ...
Stockings ...
Christmas lights ...
And top-to-toe spring cleaning of the house.
However, there are some traditions I don't enjoy.
Stress ... which I must admit is less this year since we won't be hosting Christmas dinner at our house. Funnily enough, as relaxed as I've been this weekend about housework the house is still as clean looking as it is those years when I over-stress about it looking perfect. DH and I have even managed to do some work in the garden and Sons#4 and #5 moved furniture for me so that my new guest room is finally finished (after seven years!) and my bedroom no longer does double duty as a study.
Arguing ... I'm not going to say too much about this as now that I'm an adult and have my own wounds, I realise that others also operate from a place of brokenness and that Christmas is a time when we often cannot hide our wounded spirits. Sadly, I have been painfully aware this weekend that this can all too easily become a tradition in other families.
There are, too, some traditions from my childhood that I remember fondly but which have died out for one reason or another ...
Granddad choking, year after year, on the sixpence in his Christmas pudding (why did he never learn?) ...
Performing musical items year after year at our church's Christmas Day service (were they that desperate for talent?) ...
Visiting, and singing, at the local old people's home ...
Christmas beetles that would crunch underfoot and hide down your clothes ...
And an evening swim at my aunt's place where we tried desperately to respond intelligently to the kind curiosity of much, much older cousins.
Whatever traditions we keep or drop, one tradition will never change: that of remembering the reason for the season.
Happy Christmas everyone!
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