Happy holidays
Happy holidays and Merry Christmas to all THE biggest holiday people in each family with limitless holiday spirit. Because that’s me. Christmas is one of my favorite times and I have stories on stories of what went down each year. Before I share, let me read you a text from my grandma.
Merry Christmas, family! May you feel the love of Christ on his birthday.
I mean that’s what it’s all about, right? Church was never my favorite routine for Christmas which I know is controversial. One year, I didn’t want to go so bad that I cried until I passed out and then was allowed to skip. My same grandma also recently told me it makes her sad that none of us go to church and although I put in some work going last week, I’m skipping on the most celebrated holiday to exist. My Christmas has always been more about Santa. One year, when I was too young to know, I climbed into bed with my mom and dad on Christmas Eve because I couldn’t sleep. To this day, I am convinced that on that night, I saw a flash of red like a shooting star that I thought was Santa. But it didn’t last long because years later I accidentally said at a family dinner that Santa wasn’t real, and my younger cousins heard it for the first time. I spent the rest of the night under the table embarrassed and refusing to come out.
Eventually, my parents divorced, and Christmas became a double holiday. My dad always took us to get the biggest tree at the lot to later have to cut the top off for it to reach. At moms, the ornaments were classic, and full of childhood art projects. One year, mom got our first fake tree, and it was pink! I was skeptical at first, but it became a stapled tradition. All the stockings were made by various grandmas and if we spent Christmas at Nana’s house, there were always guests from the church that had nowhere else to go. Except there was no alcohol allowed there, and that also became a staple as I got older. One year I passed out on the floor in footy pajamas after consuming too many mimosas.
My favorite year was when my family agreed to wake up at five am as the earliest and I changed the clocks back two hours, so we opened them at 3 am with no clue. Even my dad was in on it. But the worst year by far was when I got a new cell phone and I had it in my back pocket when I used the bathroom and it fell inside the toilet breaking instantly. At 13 years old, I cried like I was mourning. And my dad bought my spoiled ass a new one.
My birthday is also around the holidays on December 29 and my family has always done a good job of separating it from Christmas, New Years, and the other holidays. It was always a real event when I was young like hiring a traveling zoo or renting out a play place. I wish my memory was better, so I had more stories to tell but that’s ECT brain. For my 16th birthday, I got a car, and that is definitely one that I remember. It was a Nissan Murano and I drove that thing until it died on the side of the road. On my 21st birthday, I spent it with about twenty friends and my sister-in-law, Brittany, was the chaperone. Obviously, by then, I’d learned how to drink but that night wasn’t a rager like my oh so typical other nights and today, on my 30th birthday, I am on a sober journey.
Now, we can’t forget New Years and I have to say, it has never been my thing. Most years I dread having to stay up so late but when I did party with friends, I hated looking around for a New Year’s kiss or if I was in a relationship, awkwardly slamming our faces together as if we’d last. I do like the themed colors of black and sparkly, though. And I love the feeling of a new year with new goals and ambitions and furthered passions.
But that’s my holiday post. I hope you do enjoy your holidays and if you can’t or don’t, I’m sending some extra love your way. See you next year.
