Tag Archives: Holiday Traditions

This Christmas…

This Christmas, Hope, Yappy and I headed to Grammy’s and Grandpa’s house for the day. We dutifully took our COVID tests this morning; I’m so happy I had ordered a few a couple of weeks ago. It gave us a lot of peace of mind to know we weren’t dragging the plague into their home. We laughed, we exchanged gifts, ate a yummy Christmas dinner with caramel cake for dessert (IFKYK), mocked holiday Christmas movies even though when I reminesce on the scenes in my mind they check every GD box for holiday, family friendly rom-com, minus the rom part.

This Christmas was great.

This Christmas feels legit like the first Christmas that I truly went in to spoil territory, and it was completely by accident. I appreciate a nice set of packages under the tree, but I’ve always tried to put experiences over things. But y’all this is the SECOND GD year of this panini and seeing as this is the worst EFFING GROUP PROJECT EVER, there are those of us who have opted to limit experiences that have heavy exposure. This year, we got a little loosey goosey wth this stuff.

I usually chose one substantial thing from her wish list as her big gift. Then a few other gifts and gift cards and dassit.

This year I purchased the Nintendo Switch from her list. Found it on sale and purchased it early. Great!

Then there was a late night/early morning binge on the JCPenny app, followed by a swing through the Target app, the gaggle of things that were in my Amazon cart, a traipse through Wayfair and like a couple of Amazon purchases before I fell asleep. I remember bits but I know it’s going to be cray when I look at the books later in the week.

I also remember that was around the time I made a batch of edibles. I’ve since adjusted the dosing to something less…dramatic because this was a really epic binge shop situation.

Anyway the boxes came, and then I got busy and thought I was done. Until I had nearly a week of work-free rest with lounging layabouts in the afternoons; then I started thinking: What kinda dork gives a person a gaming system with no games? Duh. I hit the web, picked out a few, delivered next day. Hmm, I probably should get an extra controller, well since I’m here, some of these accessories are cute!

Then I was like, oh I need to get the TV in her room spruced up and make sure it’s on the house wifi. Hope rarely watched TV in her room, so the TV is legit, rarely used and like new. Until you realize that Hope has been my daughter for nearly 8 years. While she was away at work, I slipped in prepared to get the new Fire Stick set up so that it would be plug and play for her upon opening the gift. When FireTV asked for network settings, this TV replied, “I’m sorry, who dat?”

The like new TV is basically an old “dumb” TV. That setting didn’t exist at that time, apparently. In any case, while it is a silly thing, if your TV can’t get hooked to somebodies connection then do you really even have a TV?

Two days before Christmas I find a decent deal for an upgrade to present TV streaming standards, and like 2-3 hours later that living room TV got dead. There had been a few weird things with the living room TV over the last month or two, but it wasn’t alarming or so I thought. I spent quite a bit of time trying to reboot the TV and got nothing. Never came back on. So, I had to buy another TV. Hope was blown away that I ended up buying two TVs at the last minute.

Yesterday while visiting, Grammy was fussin over her and Hope was eating it with a spoon! And I was struck in that moment about how far we have come. Our first holiday in VA, Hope was only 12, scared, hopeful and probably a bunch of emotions. We went to my cousin’s house for the holiday and Hope spent a good chunk of the night sitting on the floor looking at her foot, which had a little jumpy nerve spasm. I would later learn that these spasms happened in her temples, feet, and hands when she was really stressed. Now she genuinely blossoms with joy when she’s around family.

I’m really into observing Hope these days. I marvel at how she has grown up, how much she has matured. This year really got off to a hellish start, but it is encouraging and a blessing how she’s bounced back. I’m grateful and hopeful for her future.

Oh, Hope got me two sandwich makers–I asked for the simple version, but she got me that and a suped up version. I mean, I do have two air fryers–a big one when I’m doing the family thing and a small counter top on that I use for chicken fingers and tater tots on a week night. I LOVE THEM.

This Christmas was lovely. I’m blessed beyond measure.

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The Robe

Merry Christmas folks.

I know I have stopped writing as frequently. I hope to really embrace writing again in 2021, but this year my brain was already at max cap.

Anyhoo, we are surviving. Some days are better than others, and this time of year can be emotionally challenging during regular times. I have enjoyed a lot of downtime this week and still have another week off. I really needed this time, and Hope has needed me with fewer distractions.

So about this robe… About 5 years ago we were picking up some things at Walmart. Hope spotted these robes and beelined to them. She played in the racks; she rubbed the robes on her face. She begged for me to buy her one.

I scrunched up my nose. This robe was cheap velour with a front zipper and a nehro collar.

In short, it was your grandma’s winter house coat. I was like, “Um that’s kinda old for you. It’s kinda a granny robe.”

Hope saw something different.

She saw luxury.

She saw comfort.

She saw functionality.

So, I bought her one. And she loved it. She’s asked and received a new one every Christmas since. Two years ago, she was so delighted, she slept in it on Christmas Eve.

This year, none of the local stores carried the robe. I snagged one on the website. As it does every year, the new baby blue version has brought her immense joy.

Shared with her permission and urging… Because she’s proud of her granny robe. Her college friends even *call* her Granny! It’s a whole persona.

The 2020 Robe Unveiling

She’s already posted on her own socials. I’m amused that at 19 she still loves this robe so much. It’s very much become a part of our holiday tradition!

Now we’re watching The Christmas Story–the Muppets version. 😂😂 #mychoice #ihatemusicals #butlovemuppets

Have a great holiday for those who observe and for those who do not, may your take out be delicious! ❤️


In Need of Grace

I always love the ideas of holidays, but holidays are…complicated. They always are even if we all only post the happy versions of the highlight reels on social media.

In my pre-Hope life, things were complicated for all kinds of reasons.

Most of the time I’ve been single during the holidays.

Still not skinny and all my food issues and body issues hop into overdrive and are usually kept there by someone commenting in passing on my body.

The need to drive around creation to “see” everyone.

The desire for simplicity and routine during a time that legit represents neither.

The grief I hold in my heart for family and friends who are no longer here.

The complicated personal theology that keeps me going, but doesn’t quite fit with the holiday themes surrounding this time of year.

And sometimes wondering if I even belong anywhere.

Yep, complicated.

And then Hope came and all of that still existed but new stuff emerged as I tried to graft this new family together with new traditions. The reality is things became more complicated in many ways.

Hope has her own grief, profound grief.

She wonders if she belongs anywhere.

There’s so many people and they want/demand hugs.

There’s “holiday” routines and traditions, but can we get back to our regularly scheduled programming?

How much alone time can be had without folks asking if she’s “ok?”

There’s the introvert’s exhaustion from having to exist around 30 people for hours.

There’s thoughts of what should have been her life with her family of origin.

This year was no different, in fact it might have been more challenging. What can I say, schnitt happens.

Hope and I open gifts on Christmas Eve. Every year Hope writes me a letter (she’s also usually broke so she leans into the much more personalized gift). I heard her sobbing in her room. I asked if she was ok, she kept saying yes. I finally dropped it. We gather to do our Christmas and she hands me her letter.

This year’s letter is different from all the others, which I keep with all my important papers. There’s always a lot of love and gratitude in the letters; they are sweet…precious. I can see her maturity over the years in them and what she talks about. They are a big window into Hope’s emotions, which I don’t get too often.

This year’s letter thanked me for adopting her and went on to talk about repaying me. This letter was beautiful and heartbreaking. Hope does not owe me anything. I’m high key horrified that she thinks she does in any sense. I wanted to be a mom, and she needed a parent. We were a match and we’ve worked hard to make this match work. I adore Hope. I read the letter, sobbed and hugged her an uncomfortably long time while repeating over and over that she owes me nothing.

Yappy doesn’t do well with big emotions—he’s a happy boy who just wants everyone to be happy. So during these moments of sobbing, Yappy is uncomfortably trying to get into our hug, pawing, sad faced, bringing toys to cheer us. We eventually had to do our “sit on the couch close enough for him to snuggle between us” to calm him; it’s his favorite thing. #packanimal

And that’s how Christmas started. We moved from that to an unfortunate incident in which Grammy only claimed her two bio grandkids despite having 5 grandkids—3 by adoption and guardianship. This happened in front of Hope who just pretended it didn’t happen. There were apologies later, but there were hours and hours of discomfort, anger, sadness, rejection, and the rest.

There were challenging moments with 30 people in a house, some of whom demanded “hugs” from everyone, especially the kids. Folks stop doing this and stop your family from doing this. You can’t teach bodily autonomy and safety when some rando woman you only see once a year is insisting on manhandling your kid. Hope only does hugs with folks she’s close to; the hugging demands are really triggering.

Then there were the quiet conversations between me and Hope about family gatherings, biological family, belonging, and sadness that took place in the space between our two beds in the hotel. The moments when I want to cry for her, but am not sure if such expressions of grief and sadness on her behalf are helpful or not, so I wait until the early morning when she’s sleeping to work through it.

And of course there is other emotional drama that I’m not sure will ever fully make it to this space—I’ll say this: getting to know folks romantically is hard. There is a part of me that is like, yo, Hope and I made this match work; those should be transferable skills right? Yeah, no. Years of awful dating experiences have taken their toll and every hiccup makes me want to just call it a day and get a hypoallergenic cat to go with my cute dog. It’s hard to heal, to trust, and to believe after what feels like countless failures. #butIdigress

I’m trying, and I’m trying to just muster sufficient grace to plow through this holiday season and all of the emotional schnitt it brings.

I love time with my family and with my beautiful Hope. I love the downtime from work—seriously my resting heart rate has dropped more than 5 bpm so I’m guessing work is stressful, eh? I love being able to nap in the afternoon. I’m officially addicted to knitting because it’s relaxing and I’m delighted to have all this time to work on projects.

But I’m a calendar based kinda of chick. You know how you wake up in the middle of the night, look at the clock and fret about how much time you have left to sleep? And then you can’t sleep all that great during the remaining time? Yeah, I do that with days, sometimes weeks. I’m already stressed about going back to work. I’m already stressed about taking Hope back to school.

I’m kind of a mess in need of a lot of grace as well.

And I left my fitbit at home, which begs the question, am I even really moving? How am I supposed to make sure my eating and exercise levels are at least kinda in sync?

Yeah, I’m a mess, and this time of year seems to bring a lot of it to the surface. I would love nothing more to buy a winning lottery ticket and disappear, just vanish to some far-flung place. Sigh, I don’t even play the lottery.

So, folks, I’m just trying to focus on being gracious today. Grace is a gift. It is centering. It can lead me to forgiveness when necessary. It gives me strength. It allows me to fret less. In putting grace out into the universe, I’m hopeful that the universe will give some back to me.

I need it.


New Traditions; New Jeans

I’m currently attempting to get back into the swing of writing while entertaining Yappy in our hotel room in my hometown.  Cutie pup is as happy as a little clam because he got to stay with his people in the hotel last night.  He’s a bit of a wild beast this morning with the playtime, but he’s just so darn cute that I’m down here on the floor playing keep away with one of his toys while trying to gather my thoughts.

I’m finding that starting new traditions for me and Hope for major holidays like Christmas is kind of like jeans shopping.  You can’t wait to get new jeans but you kind of hate the process of getting jeans.  And, you know, despite labels like “curvy” and “straight” there really seems to be little rhyme or reason to picking jeans or traditions that work.

I think that the pressure of figuring out a tradition for us made my funk of the last couple of weeks just that much more awful.  I’ve been in an awful place.  I don’t think I accounted for putting pressure on myself to some how “get Christmas right” for Hope.  I guess the stakes felt higher than I thought.  Ironically, as much as Hope was looking forward to Christmas, I think her expectations of me weren’t nearly as high as my own.

And somehow I think I got it right with Hope in spite of myself.  We did a nice Christmas Eve with just me, her and Yappy: Hot cocoa at the fancy cocoa bar (they sell wine too #winning); church, a feast of delivery pizza (what you thought I was going to cook the night before traveling???) and gift opening.  Fancy cocoa acknowledged the bougie, but the pizza kept it low brow and casual.  Church grounded us in the reason for the season, while gift giving made it all fun and universally traditional.

Hope was NOT feeling this plan initially–”Why can’t I open gifts on Christmas like regular people???”, but she came around when she realized that gift opening would be extended another day after getting to the Grands. “It’s like two Christmases!”  Oh, and we ate cold pizza for breakfast on Christmas morning, because we were rushing, preventing waste and keeping it classy! #dontjudgeournewtraditions

And my funk of the last few weeks lifted.  It’s true; giving heartfelt gifts can make your heart happy.  Hope was jazzed over her gifts and her happiness and engagement with her family was amazing.  I found myself reflecting on months ago and how scared she was and how standoffish she was.  This week she just slid right in to the mix.  It all pulled me out of my funk.

Being out of my funk allowed me to step up when the inevitable meltdown occurred one night. Strange hotel, missing first family, anxiety, sadness…it all came to a head in the middle of the night.  And we got through it.

Today we head back to our home to settle in the rest of winter break.  I’ve got some tricks up my sleeves, some fun activities to do and some rest to get. And I’ve go another new gym to join–seriously if I can’t make it to the gym that is in walking distance to the house and only $10 a month, there really is no hope for me.  Liking the old/newish gym (just joined this summer after quitting the old gym), but location and cost are driving this decision.

I think I might’ve stumbled upon the right fit of jeans.


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