I'm Dreaming of a...Grey Christmas?

That's right. Despite my most fervent prayers and denial of the weatherman's foretelling, there was no snow on Christmas. We did, however, get a lovely blanket of fog. Grey, dismal, horrible fog.

To combat the weather's reluctance to comply with my traditional Christmasy desires, I took on the joy of the holidays anyway and hung out with my family. Our Christmases have never been traditional, but this year was at an all-time...high?

I think I was nine when my mom decided we weren't going to have a Christmas tree anymore. For a few years we also didn't have gifts. Those are back now, but the tree never made a re-appearance. After that, my mom decided that she wanted to create a Christmas tradition that we would want to come home to when we're old and married. So for the last several years on Christmas Eve, my mom and dad and brother and I get together to slowly evolve our version of a family Christmas. This year, it looked someting like this: we start at 5 with fondue, and as soon as that's winding up we throw some appetizers in the oven. When those are finished, we throw some more in, etc. It goes on and on until dessert. Aaaaand then we throw some more hors d'oeuvres out on the table and eat until bed. Somewhere in the middle we also watch "It's a Wonderful Life" and usually play a board game. Then in the morning, it's up for any food we didn't finish the night before and home-made cinnamon buns and presents (this year we're doing renovations, so the pile of presents stood in the middle of the living room, sans tree of course, as the only thing in the room besides our new couch). And thus the new family tradition.

After that, we go to one side of the family Christmas night and the other on Boxing Day. Basically, it's three days straight of only eating and sleeping. It's wonderful.

But besides all that, even though it's wonderful to get to spend so much time with my family, one important truth remains: Jesus is the reason for the season (ahahaha, oh my but I do love clichés). Sure, He probably wasn't actually born on December 25th and where the tree and Santa fit in we'll probably never know (and a reindeer with a birth defect that makes only his nose glow? Heaven help us!). BUT, this is the time once a year that we should be taking some time to remember that He came, how He came, and why He came. He came for me.

The mist killed my white Christmas dreams, but that was about it. It's actually quite beautiful when I stop and get over my delusions of "what Christmas should be" and just...stop. Breathe. Accept that this is how it is, and be okay.