First Christmas Away from Home

“Christmas is a time when you get homesick - even when you're home.”
-Carol Nelson

This year we spent Christmas at my in-laws’ house in Florida. This was my first Christmas spent away from my family, away from our traditions, away from our holiday spirit.

I always got the impression that Christmas wasn’t a big celebration in my husband’s family, so I was surprised when I saw a huge stack of presents under the tree. However, after experiencing Christmas morning with them, I can see why they might not make a big deal out of the day—it doesn’t seem like a day that you would eagerly look forward to.

Let’s compare...
Mine:
Every gift is thoughtful and personalized for the recipient. It might be small, it might be handmade, it might have been on sale, but it was given because the recipient might really like it.
His:
Every gift was purchased because it was on sale, and everybody received the exact same things: a coin sorter, a picture frame arrangement, a food vacuum sealer, a basket of lotions, plug-ins home fragrance, an Applebee’s giftcard, and a Wal-Mart gift card.
Mine:
Unique and handmade items are admired and appreciated, if not sought after.
His:
My mother-in-law waits and begs to hear you ooh and aah over the gifts from her, but she just brushes aside the personalized, creative gift that you worked for hours and hours on, as if she already had one just like it.
Mine:
Every gift is appreciated, even if it’s odd, random, and would never be used. Gratitude is shown no matter what.
His:
They make awful faces when they receive a gift that’s not quite their style. And then say, “I hope you have the receipt because I’m going to have to return it,” as soon as they’ve pulled the last of the wrapping off. Even if they sent their husbands on a crazy Christmas Eve shopping spree to supplement the gifts he already has wrapped and under the tree.
Mine:
Gifts are an expression of love.
His:
Gifts are often an opportunity to “fix” a person and to show them where they’ve gone “wrong.” Along with the gift, you receive verbal criticism and “advice” on how to fix it your “problem.” Cookbooks are given to fat people who are told to eat healthier, banks are given to poor people who are told to manage their money better, “drama queen” teddy bears are given to teenagers who are told that they are the biggest drama queen in the world.
Mine:
Gifts are given with thoughts about how/when they might be used, but never any specific instructions.
His:
Toys are given to 5-year-olds with 100 pieces and a warning that they better not leave any pieces anywhere. [Solution: Designate a gallon-size plastic bag for each playset. Decorate with Sharpies and empower the 5-year-old to return the toys to the appropriate bag! He’s capable if he has the resources!] Popcorn machines are given to daughters, but they are opened first by the giver herself so that we can use it that evening, and maybe, just maybe, the recipient will forget to bring it home, so the giver can have it all to herself.

There’s always a lot of drama in this family, and as you can imagine, this visit was no exception. And, although it really got me down a couple of times, we made the best of it, and were able to enjoy the time with family, despite their peculiarities.

Christmas Comes Early

“Christmas is not as much about opening our presents as opening our hearts.”
-Janice Maeditere

We brought back quite a stack of presents from Shreveport after Thanksgiving. More presents than our little minds could imagine. More presents that our little car would hold.

So instead of waiting for the 25th and our trip to Florida, Christmas came early to our house. Rob declared Saturday December 20th as our officially observed holiday. But we couldn’t wait even that long. On Friday evening, we changed into our Christmas clothes and emptied our stockings to find lots of great goodies. We also unwrapped some great gifts from my mom, from each other, and from our Secret Santas…

Dreams do come true

“Our life is composed greatly from dreams, from the unconscious, and they must be brought into connection with action. They must be woven together.”
-Anais Nin

Good-bye desk job!

I’ve cleaned out my desk. I’ve written detailed instructions on how to find files. I’ve been treated to a farewell lunch. My last days at my design job are numbered, and I’ve been given permission to “work” from home until the end of the year. (My boss added the quotes, not me!) My only commitment is to return to work laptop on the 30th.

My sister asked today if I was excited, sad, or both. In truth, I just don’t think that it has really sunk in yet. Two weeks from today I will be reporting to middle school, not to the design world. I’ll be a teacher, not a designer. I will manage students, not clients. I will work on lesson plans, not proposals.

My dreams are coming true.

Boy, am I going to miss these conversations...

“Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.”
-Elizabeth Stone

Stop right there…go read Callie’s blog entry from yesterday. And then read my comment from this morning. [No offense to Mormons meant...it's just not for me]

Here is the Google chat conversation we had today regarding parenting:

2:22 PM callienclac: haha i just read your comment on my blog
i believe the answer is not to become mormon
but to become a Parker
and be like L and G :)
me: maybe so
haha
2:23 PM callienclac: every time i was at the beach i just watched them in awe of their parenting skills
haha
A and E [their husbands] too
me: yeah, they're pretty good at it
and Aunt S, too
if i could just be a combination of all of that
2:24 PM callienclac: you'll be that
me: and as ive been pondering this magic...ive wondered where mama fits into this range
some would probably think that she fits on there, too--but that's just to close to home for me to quantify
callienclac: i totally agree
2:25 PM and i think the circumstances in which we watched her "parent" were totally different
me: true
quite different to be the kid

Potluck party

“When we recall Christmas past, we usually find that the simplest things - not the great occasions - give off the greatest glow of happiness."
-Bob Hope

Last night was our annual company Christmas party—my last one—pause to celebrate! In light of the economy, this year we decided to just have a potluck dinner at one of my coworkers’ loft, instead of the usual company-paid restaurant dinner and creative activity. Easier said than done when you’ve moved an hour away and the party doesn’t start until 7pm.

After I finally got away from work yesterday evening at 5:15 and finished up a last minute trip to the supermarket at 5:45, I gathered up all of my cooking supplies and ingredients and settled for the next best kitchen, other than my own—the church kitchen. I boiled my potatoes in a giant industrial-sized pot, heated the stovetop of two ovens, and ran around opening cabinets, thinking they’ve got to have some salt and pepper stored around here.

I planned to document my progress with photos, but mashing potatoes and sautéing green beans for twelve people in an hour leaves little time to snap photos. This is the only one that I captured.
I also brought fancy jewelry and different boots to morph my day outfit into my night outfit as they always demonstrate on makeover shows; however, those makeover experts never take into account the fact that you might have bits of mashed potatoes flung at your versatile clothing in between a day of work and an evening out. Just in case you’re wondering, I think I picked all of the food off of me before I entered the party.

And what a dinner party it was… I’m not usually a fan of potluck dinners—I’m just too picky (“Hi, I’m Jana, and I’m a picky eater.”) But this dinner, it just came together—it made a real meal, a real yummy meal. I work with some really good cooks--perhaps I'm figuring this out a little too late. There was mojito chicken (the juiciest, most melt-in-my-mouth chicken I’ve ever had), marinated pork loin, mashed potatoes (not the best I’ve ever made, but still complimented the rest of the meal), green beans (my best and favorite recipe ever—I mean, it’s got nutmeg in it, who doesn’t love nutmeg?), and corn pudding. And for dessert, pumpkin pie, chocolate flan, and thumbprint cookies.