How Christmas Eve should be

If I were to desig the perfect Christmas Eve, I think today would be the design model. The household was slow to get going. I got up late, expecting to find a quiet, sleeping house, but two adults and two kids were up and going, and others gradually drifted into the living area. We dawdled and visited, finally had a catch-as-can breakfast, and got ready for the day. Two groups went grocery shopping and were gone forever. I stayed behind to wrap gifts, but fourteen-year-old Eden, who is the precise wrapper I will never be, took over She wrapped, I added yarn and tags, and we got it all done. And I treasured the one-on-one time which I don’t always get when we’re all together.

Lunch was grilled hamburgers, and dinner, chili. It has become a family tradition that Megan’s husband, Brandon, makes chili for Christmas Eve. He tones it down a bit in respect to some of us, including me, but it is hearty and good. Can’t resist a plug—want the recipe? Find it in Texas is Chili Country, a compilation by guess who.

 As I write a rousing poker game occupies four adults and four children and competes in noise with Christmas carols. Good itmes. But wonderful as having the whole family together is, there are adjustments to be made. They have no sense of time, and their stomachs certainly don’t follow the same clock mine does. We had breakfast at ten-thirty, lunch at two-thirty, and it’s yet to be known when we’ll eat that chili. If you know me, you know that taking my daily nap at four is completely off my schedule.

Somehow all of them, except maybe Jordan, missed the neatness bug that I have. I sat this afternoon and looked at a room semi-littered with paper cups, soft-drink cans, a few used paper plates. Back when I was mobile, I’d have “policed” that room in ten minutes. Today I had no choice. A big reminder that I’m no longer in charge, and my best option, to keep peace and happiness, is to sit back and let the good times roll.

I am certainly no longer in charge in the kitchen. In fact, Jordan shooed me out of there a few minutes ago, and then I heard someone imitating their grandmother who used to say to her dog, “Out of my kitchen, out of my kitchen!” The dog always went, tale between her legs. Thr four adult girls have taken over, and some of the adult males cook as well.

Life has certainly changed, but in many ways for the better. I am so blessed to have them around me, now for five full days together.

May Christmas Day bring you each the blessings of love and peace, the blessings of the day. Don’t forget to watch NORAD—they’re already tracking Santa. He dumped his entire sleigh at this house I think.