"Our First Christmas Apart" - I wish they made an ornament that said that. We have the one that says "Our First Christmas Together" - a beautiful Spode china Christmas bell with the year of our wedding painted on it...it did not go on the tree this year.
They don't make an "Our First Christmas Apart" ornament, because it would cause too many awkward moments when people see it hanging on our tree. They would not understand that, for us, it was the Best Christmas Ever! Please allow me to tell out story...
It started with the lights...
Lighting the outside of the house for Christmas had traditionally been my husband's job, while I decorated the inside of the home. It was the weekend after Thanksgiving, and all the men on our street were diligently and dutifully setting up their mini light shows. My girls and I marched into our local home improvement store and selected the lights for our own front yard. For the bushes, we chose netting lights that twinkled - "In rainbow colors!", they requested - a set of old fashioned huge bulbs for the scraggly pine on our side yard...the Charlie Brown Tree, and giant candy canes to line our driveway!
I got timers, extension cords, stake outlets, and all the paraphernalia necessary for this illumination. Who knew there were so many cool gadgets available specifically for this purpose!
Together we set up our little display. The two girls owned the candy cane job, while I spread lights all over the bushes. I quickly learned the ins and outs of extension cords, outlets and timers, and I set the show up to begin and end exactly when I wanted it to (a decision that I had previously relinquished to my husband).
I pressed "On", we stood back and admired. I liked it, but for them, it was just OK. Something was missing. They wanted more...and I somehow felt the obligation to wow them! It was, of course, the Christmas when I did not want to disappoint. Part of the problem came from the neighbors...yes, we were having "the Jones' problem". Our new street was so bright! There were lights and icicles hanging from almost all the eaves. The trees had beautiful strings of lights...strung way high! And the inflatables...snowmen, Santas, Nativities, and even the M&M guys!
"I thought we were going to have the best lights in the neighborhood!", said my youngest. "Instead, we have the most low-key lights", added her sister. I couldn't compete...nor did I want to...that wasn't the point.
The point was to love what we had...to make it the most special Christmas ever for us. I explained that to them, and they tried to understand...but still there was something missing. The second floor needed lighting.
When I left my husband's house, I took a shoot-now-ask-questions-later approach when it came to the Christmas decorations. I had been the curator of all our memories and mementos, so I felt I should keep them. Besides, in his very dismissive manner, he had told me to take everything. He wanted to start completely fresh.
I have since realized that there are objects that are bought for a specific home...and they belong there, they should stay there. Like a secret Santa, I started to return some of these items...leaving them at his house when he wasn't home - the wreaths that I thought I wanted so much, because my good friend and I made them together the first year I lived in that house. It turns out this new house doesn't really have the windows for those wreaths. They were made for that home, and there I returned them.
There were candles that illuminated the upstairs windows of the old house. I was not going to use them, because they reminded me too much of those old Christmases...those years when I worked so diligently to plug all the lights in at the same time and at the right time so that they would light up together and turn off at a reasonable time (they stay on for 8 hours from the time they are plugged in and relight at the same time every day). He would unplug one or two of them every night, even though I repeatedly explained to him how the timers worked and how unplugging them ruined the timing that I had worked so hard to synchronize...it didn't matter to him.
I was not going to use the candles here...but the upstairs needed lighting, and I was not going to get on any ladders to hang lights from any eaves! So I took the candles out...and plugged them in...at relatively the same time...at the right time...and no one has unplugged them. They were perfect and beautiful...and the girls approved with, "It's nice to have the elegant house in the neighborhood."
Oh Christmas Tree...
When the time came to pick out a Christmas tree for us, I knew only one thing: my husband would not be involved in any part of the process this year. There are traditions that I thought we should maintain, and others I thought we should make new. We would pick out the tree from the farmers market where we always get our tree, but only we three girls would go. It would be our tree, picked out especially by us.
We strolled through the various lots, comparing the different firs - all beautiful and fragrant, all indigenous to our lovely state. It did not take long for the girls to zoom in on the perfect tree. The vendor swiftly wrapped it up for us and slid it into the back of our minivan.
During our drive home, I finally took a call from my husband (he had been calling incessantly during our entire time at the farmers market; I had ignored the calls, wanting the experience to be exclusively ours). The girls were so excited, of course they told him that we had just purchased a Christmas tree...and of course he expressed his disappointment (party pooper move number one).
"Awww...I wanted to take you on Saturday. I was going to put it in the van for you", he said specifically to me.
I could think of nothing worse than to have him helping me pick out a Christmas tree for my house during his weekend to keep the children!
"Oh, well...I didn't know. You can still go on Saturday with the girls", I replied.
He stammered and hmmed and ummed, waiting for me to invite him over to help me put up the tree. I had no idea how I was going to get that tree into my house and onto a stand, but I was certain that he would have no part in it. It was the girls' tree and only us girls would be involved in the placement and decorating of it. I did not invite him.
In anticipation of this moment, I had bought a very cool tree stand that makes it possible for one person alone to put up a Christmas tree. It has a receptacle that would slide onto the tree trunk while the tree is lying on it's side. One would then insert into the trunk the three screws that would stabilize the tree. The tree would then be turned upright, placing the receptacle into the stand. At this point the tree would, of course, be tilted in all kinds of weird ways...so one would press a pedal on the stand that allows the tree to be moved and tilted into the perfect position...brilliant!
While the girls blissfully rode their scooters in our cul-de-sac, I proceeded with the first step...only to find that the trunk was too thick to completely fit into the receptacle, it needed to be tapered. No worries...I grabbed an old chef knife from my kitchen and proceeded to chip away at the trunk until it was the perfect shape for the perfect fit. I did all this in my driveway, looking as graceful and elegant as one could look while chopping at a tree while dressed in a wool coat and leather boots.
Afterwards, I picked up my tree the way that I had seen the vendors effortlessly pick it up, walked it into my house and tilted it into the tree stand. I pressed the pedal and magically straightened the tree out into beautiful perfection!
He called again...and I let the kids answer, while I gave the tree some finishing touches.
"Mom put up the Christmas tree!", exclaimed my older daughter with unrestrained joy.
"You're happy and you're sad?", I then heard her repeat after his response (party pooper move number two). He couldn't let them just enjoy their joy and their moment with me. He had to introduce that tinge of darkness to their cheer. I felt my daughter's composition change from happy and innocent little girl to daddy's caretaker as she replied to him, "It's OK, Daddy, we can still go get a tree for you on Saturday".
I wanted to protect their delight and happiness over our gorgeous Christmas tree, so I talked to them over the next few days while we decorated the tree. I let them know how proud I was of our tree and how special it was to me. I wanted to let them know that it was OK to feel this way...it was OK to enjoy something that was just for us girls...it was OK to be happy about something that was just for our new house.
At the end, the tree was (and still is) spectacular! It wears the pink lights that the girls insisted I buy (for a truly feminine tree). I added vintage pearl bulbs that I had picked up at a local antique shop. Our old ornaments went up (only the ones that brought us joy). Everyone contributed, even our little one was allowed to handle the ornaments...and I did not move anything that they placed on the tree (my husband was known to reorganize the ornaments after we had put them up, so that they would look "just right").
"Our First Christmas Together" and "First Year in Our Home" never went up, but all the "Baby's First Christmas" did and so did everything that had been handmade by my children.
The tree is stunning!!
Christmas Day...
Before I begin this account, let me give you some background on my history with Christmas. In my culture, Christmas Eve was always a big celebration. There was a very large meal with an abundance of family and friends. There was lively music and plenty of dancing. The women usually worked hard to put the meal and the party together, often spending the entire day in the kitchen but always looking fabulous in the evening as they received their guests!
The next day - Christmas Day - was a day of rest...for everyone. We woke up excited and eager to open presents, we went to Mass, and we returned home to play with our new toys. Everyone was happy, Mom and Dad were resting, and the kids were playing blissfully. Dinner was always the leftovers from the abundant meal of Christmas Eve. Seriously, after all the hours that Mom had put in shopping, wrapping, cleaning, cooking, and essentially making Christmas, she did not lift a finger on Christmas Day...it was a Holy Day of Obligation!
You can imagine my shock and dismay when I got married and learned that my husband expected a full-fledged Thanksgiving-sized meal on Christmas night! When I explained to him what my family's (and my culture's) tradition was and tried to bargain for a compromise, he said that I could still have my Christmas Eve party if I wanted, but he still expected a Christmas night dinner...leftovers were just not going to cut it for him.
Of course, I could not do that. Two big dinners on two consecutive nights were just too much, especially if I was the only one doing everything...the cooking, the cleaning, the organizing, the decorating, the shopping, the wrapping...while he rested. So as the years went on, my culture's traditions were forgotten, as I spent every Christmas Day exhausted in the kitchen and pretty much looked like a zombie by the time I sat down to dinner on Christmas night. I recall being envious of other women in my family when I talked to them on Christmas Day and learned that they were taking it easy and having frozen lasagna for dinner, or just leftovers from the night before.
This is how things went this year:
My cousin invited us over to her Christmas Eve party. Each guest was to contribute something to the meal, so that one person would not have to do the bulk of the preparations. I was asked to bring dessert, drinks and ice. I bought drinks and ice, and made a to-die-for lemon chess pie...done.
My husband had also been invited, but he declined. I went with my daughters and my nephew and his mother, who recently moved from my hometown to the area where I now live (it's good to have family around sometimes). We had a wonderful cheerful time. The dancing was beautiful. All night long she played my favorite genre of all the music of my country...and they danced like tops. We talked, we ate, and the children played. When they tired, we went home to tuck them safely into their warm little beds where they each awaited the great Santa Clause.
It was a late night for me (two hours of sleep), with all the elf work that needed to be done...but it was Our First Christmas Apart, and I could not disappoint. As for the husband? I asked him to come over very early on Christmas morning to watch the kids open presents (it would not have been the same for them if both of us were not there). I also told him that we could come over in the afternoon to open presents that he had at his house. This would give him an opportunity to make Christmas dinner himself if it truly meant that much to him.
I would bring over a HoneyBaked Ham. He was making a kind of spinach casserole (fancy Southern Living recipe) and asked if I could bring another vegetable...all he had was canned creamed corn.
"Creamed corn sounds good", I offered.
"You want to keep it simple, don't you", he realized.
"I don't want to cook tomorrow", I made clear.
"I will make mashed potatoes, would you bring some bread?"
"Yes, I don't have to cook bread."
"I guess we won't have dessert", he tried.
"I could buy dessert", I drove in.
"Well, do whatever you think is best."
Christmas morning was a dream! Everything the children had wanted and expected and more! I particularly enjoyed the look on his face when he learned that his sister and his mother had each sent a gift for me...priceless.
We enjoyed my French toast casserole for breakfast...easy to prepare, and a kids' favorite, can't go wrong. Afterwards, we celebrated Jesus with a soul-lifting Christmas Day Mass. He then went home to begin his dinner preparations, and the kids and I went home to rest and play...how perfect :)
That afternoon at his house we sat around his tree and opened more gifts. He told the kids that it was "dessert" after the "banquet" of gifts they had had that morning at our house. He gave me an expensive gift, which I had not been expecting nor had reciprocated. I thanked him and accepted it as the gift that it was, without feeling any obligation to match it. It was so liberating!
Dinner was wonderful, and afterwards, we enjoyed a drive to view neighborhood Christmas lights. Upon our return, I let the kids know that it was time to go home and that they could bring whatever they wanted with them, or leave anything at Daddy's house that they wanted to use there.
"No! We want to take everything!", they shouted...I laughed internally.
Once settled in the van as we started to drive off, my youngest said sort of thinking aloud, "So this is how Christmas works..."
I asked, "Did it work out OK?"
"Yes! It was the best Christmas ever!", they both shouted back :)
