Holidays depend on traditions, and the rituals on and leading up to Christmas Day are perhaps the most sacred of all.
It just "doesn't feel like Christmas" without a batch of peanut butter blossom cookies made from your grandmother's recipe. You're not "ready for the holidays" if you have yet to dig your 8 1/2 foot artificial tree out of the basement and decorate it with handmade ornaments from your kids' preschool days. You can't imagine a Christmas without a candlelit church service, a poinsettia on your table, a drive through a Christmas light display, an all-night gift-wrapping session or [insert your favorite holiday ritual here].
You know what I'm getting at. It's the little events and moments we put on repeat each holiday season that add up to our idea of "Christmas," that make an otherwise ordinary day special.
So what happens if everything changes? What if you can't buy the Hershey kisses needed for the peanut butter blossoms, if your tree is buried deep in a storage shed half a world away, if the sun doesn't set early enough to take the kids out to see the few Christmas lights hung up in your neighborhood? What happens to Christmas?
That was the scenario we faced this year as we celebrated our first Christmas abroad and our first in the Southern Hemisphere.
With the seasons reversed (summer in winter, winter in summer), all of our holidays have seemed a little "off," and Christmas was no different. Christmas Eve was a beautiful, blue-skied, 80-degree day that seemed to never end. The skies didn't darken enough to usher our kids to bed until 9:30 or so. (I have a feeling Santa was circling in his sleigh waiting for the OK to land. ;) Christmas Day was a scorcher and we had to turn on the AC to cool the house down. We traded our usual tradition of hosting family with a big meal and a holiday movie marathon at our home in Virginia for a trip to the beach.
Everything was different -- but, at the same time, everything was the same. The four of us cuddled on the couch Christmas Eve and watched Rudolph find his calling and Charlie Brown suffer through his own holiday-driven existential crisis (I think I might be Charlie Brown, btw). We woke up Christmas morning to find that Santa had come, he found us after our move to the other side of the world and managed to bring enough dinosaurs, Hot Wheels cars and slime kits to entertain us for, well, a few hours. And we all sat down together, tired, thankful and a little sandy and sea-salty for a makeshift Christmas dinner.
It was a good day, even when held up against the impossibly high expectations of the season. By moving abroad, turning our entire life upside down and stripping away the comfort and limits of tradition, ritual and the idea that what-has-been-must-always-be, we were freed to celebrate anew.
We chose the traditions to bring along with us (we bought a new tree and secondhand ornaments) and tried out some new ones (Christmas Eve tug of war, riding the waves on boogie boards from Santa). Did we miss our family and friends? Absolutely. Did we have a good Christmas anyway? You bet.
From the Adorable Girl:
"My favorite part about Christmas Eve was making a pinata, playing tug of war and sprinkling the reindeer food on the driveway. It almost felt like it wasn't Christmas because it was so hot. My favorite part about Christmas Day was opening presents, making slime and going to the beach. My favorite present was the slime factory. Going to the beach on Christmas Day was kind of weird but fun. We played on our new boogie boards and rode the waves."
From the Adorable Boy:
"I'm going to tell you what I hate about Christmas first. I hate going to a waterfall (two days) after Christmas [Editor's note: We haven't even done this yet. He's just anticipating his unhappiness ;)]. My favorite thing was sprinkling the reindeer food and opening presents. I know what my favorite present is -- the space thing (a viewfinder with pictures of outer space)."
So did they have a good Christmas or not-a-good Christmas?
"Good Christmas!"
As we continue to learn from this move abroad, the days are what you make of them. Your Christmas could depend on a snowy morning, a fancy ham dinner or a luxury handbag waiting under the tree -- or it could be something entirely different. Something of your own making, something that makes you happy anyway.
