…and a Half

Today is my half-birthday. No, we don’t really celebrate half-birthdays around here, but I usually mention them to the kids, because when I was young, my half birthday felt very important.

After all, my half-birthday was that special day when I went from being whatever age I actually was to “almost the next age.”

Example: Five-and-a-half was consistently expressed as “almost six.” Which, as you know, is so much older than plain old five. But it wasn’t until I had rounded the corner on that half-birthday that I felt comfortable switching to “almost six.” I had standards, you know.

Nine-and-a-half was particularly special because it meant I was almost into the double digits, which, for some reason, felt like an enormous milestone to 9-year-old me. And 12-and-a-half? Well, I’m sure you can imagine that being “almost a teenager” felt incredibly grown up.

These days, as you might guess, I don’t think too much about my age. There have been times when I’ve actually been surprised to realize that I’m quite a few years past 28. It seems I always feel 28, no matter what year the calendar says.

And as for my half-way mark around the birthday year? I acknowledge it in passing, but I certainly don’t switch to saying I’m “almost” the next age! No, I’m more likely to stick to the safe “thirty-something” or admit I’m “in my mid-thirties.” I don’t mind my age, but I don’t feel compelled to proclaim it or dwell on it either.

I guess I’ll just save the excitement of half-birthdays for the kids, and smile when they tell me how old they “almost” are.

Christmas Memories: Magical Mornings

treeIn the days and weeks leading up to Christmas, my mom would decorate the house — everything from the side tables to the stairways was festive.  But there was one item of Christamas decor that was missing.

The tree.

Every year, our parents waited until we were in bed on Christmas Eve, sound asleep…and then they really got to work. Out came the tree. Out came the boxes of ornaments and decorative icicles. Out came the extensive miniature village, the fake snow, the Lionel train.

And when we got up in the morning, the living room was transformed. Not only did gifts suddenly appear, but so did the entire tree and surrounding decorations. It truly felt magical to a little girl who stumbled sleepily into the room to see what had happened overnight.

For years, I was convinced that Santa managed to spend enough time at our house to set everything up. I’d try and try to stay up late, thinking that maybe that noise I just heard was, indeed, the sound of reindeer hooves on our roof.  And maybe I could catch Santa in the act of turning our living room into a bright and delightful sight.

Eventually, though, I learned the truth. And that’s when things got even more exciting. Because that year, I was let in on the fun. After my younger brother fell asleep, my mom came to get me and I was allowed to sneak downstairs to help her and dad set up the tree and all its accouterments. What fun! I loved being part of the surprise. (Looking back, perhaps my parents enjoyed having a bit of help setting everything up, too.)

To be honest, I don’t know how my parents did it. By the time Christmas Eve rolls around, I’m worn out from the baking and wrapping and all the other preparations… I often fall into bed right after the kids do! So our tree goes up early in December — it certainly doesn’t magically appear on Christmas morning.

But there are other parts of the magical Christmas mornings from my childhood that we do manage to incorporate into our holiday.

My family would always read the account of Jesus’ birth from Luke 2 before we opened presents. We’d talk about the fact that opening gifts is fun, and that all the glitter and lights are enjoyable… but that Jesus really is the greatest gift of all, since he came to give us what no wrapped box ever could: a relationship with God that leads to eternal life.

And after the gifts were unwrapped, we’d move out to the kitchen for breakfast together.

Chad and I try to do both of those things with our own kids. We try to incorporate some Advent readings into our evenings during the weeks leading up to Christmas, and we spend time Christmas morning listening to the story of baby Jesus.

And then after the gifts have been unwrapped, just about when little bellies start growling, I take our Holiday Morning French Toast out of the oven (assuming I got up early enough to get it into the oven in time!). It’s a delicious tradition that we love to share together.

What are your Christmas morning traditions — either now or from your childhood? I’d love to hear about them!

Christmas Memories: Gifts & Illness

giftI used to think I had a good memory, but I’m starting to doubt that now. When I think back to my childhood, a few prominent events stand out, but most memories are jumbled and smushed together. Christmases all mix together in a delightful blend of family, fun, decorations, learning the story of Jesus’ birth, and being very excited about opening gifts before breakfast. But a few things are a tad bit more clear in my mind, and I thought I’d explore them a little this week. C. (10) is always interested in stories from “way back when I was young,” so I figure this is a good way to share some of my memories with him, as well.

I’ll start with illness.

Maybe I’m wrong (and since my mom reads this blog, perhaps she’ll correct me), but I remember being sick — as in stomach-bug sick — more than one Christmas morning. I don’t know if I was unfortunate enough to actually get a stomach virus on multiple Christmases or if I got so excited about the festivities that I made myself sick once or twice (not a particularly useful talent to have). Whichever was the case, I have memories of being little and lying on the couch Christmas morning, hoping I wouldn’t throw up again. Somehow, I still managed to open my presents, though.

So far, my kids have managed to avoid having stomach bugs on Christmas and I hope that trend continues!

Okay, now on to a more pleasant topic: Gifts.

I think I’ve admitted on this blog that I was the type of kid to scour the house for presents during the weeks leading up to Christmas. My mom would hide gifts in the attic and then hide the key, but I would search high and low for it. Often, I didn’t find it. But a few years, I did and found out in advance what I was getting. Some people would say that spoiled the surprise, but it really didn’t diminish my excitement at all. It was almost like getting the gifts TWICE!

All the present-finding happened when I was older though…I’d say no younger than 12. And as I said, my earlier memories are all blurry and smushed, so I don’t remember too many individual presents from those days. There are two, however, that have stuck with me, for whatever reason.

One was a car that could follow a crayon line that you drew on a special plastic mat. (You should know that I was a bit of a tomboy and I frequently preferred playing with vehicles to playing with dolls.) When I got that car, I was very excited. It was fascinating to me that I could draw a curvy, squiggly, twisty-turny road on the mat, start the car up, and it would follow my drawn path from start to finish. Very cool. To this day, I don’t know how that thing worked.

Another stand-out was a small doll playhouse shaped like an ice cream sundae. Picture a plastic ice cream sundae in a pedestal bowl, maybe a foot tall. The bowl is purple, there are several scoops of ice cream, and a cherry on top. When you turn the sundae around, you see that it opens up and becomes a house for a little doll. Now, I just told you I was a tomboy and it’s true, I didn’t play with many dolls. But this one I really liked. Maybe because my parents owned an ice cream store and so a sundae-themed dollhouse was a perfect fit. I’m not sure. But I remember playing with that toy for hours upon hours.

These days, I have tons of fun trying to pick gifts for my kids that will give them hours of enjoyment. Of course, our primary focus is on the True Meaning of Christmas, but as a gift-giver, I do love bringing the shine of excitement to their eyes when they tear off the wrapping paper.

What about you? Are there specific gifts from your childhood that stand out in your memory? Or maybe, unfortunately, Christmases you were too sick to fully enjoy? And ‘fess up…Were you a sneaky gift-snooper like me?