Establishing Traditions

The holidays are upon on us (however, you’ve probably known that since before Halloween as everyone insists on beginning their Christmas marketing when it’s still 80 degrees out, but I quibble).

Big Bro A will be visiting the WordNerdia-IPia household for Thanksgiving. This marks his first visit in the nearly four years since I’ve lived here; work schedules, my own travel and general inertia have kept him from visiting us, but he will finally see the bright lights of D.C. Or monuments.Yeah, monuments. And museums.

We don’t have a firm plan for Turkey Day other than making sure we have pumpkin pie, Cool Whip and a few slices of pumpkin cheesecake; we’ve been debating the menu as the W-I tradition is to not follow tradition at all—we’ve made turkey exactly once during our Thanksgivings together. I am honestly not a fan of the day; growing up, it usually meant that it was time for me to shampoo the carpets for no good reason other than my mother wanted me to do so. We never hosted a Thanksgiving any larger than my immediate family, so I was always very resentful and unhappy on that day. When I started running, I made it a point to get the run in before the craziness started, which would prompt my mom to scold me for exerting myself on a holiday. Probably because it meant that I’d have less of an energy reserve to push the deep cleaner.

That and the whole stuffing of oneself, unless it is with pie, holds no appeal for me. Unless it’s a pan of brownies and lots of milk (or something similar), a regular portion will do.

But Christmas—Christmas we’re actually making an effort to come up with some traditions. IP wants a tree; I’ve neglected to get a tree since I moved to D.C. (even when I said I would), because the tree tradition is also fraught with unpleasant memories: my poor dad and me and traipsing out to the tree farm in the snow, smaller siblings following around and exclaiming “This tree! No, this one!” and dad and me having to cut it down. Get the sucker wrapped, then go back to the house, where getting it on the tree stand would be a pain in the ass. It’s finally time to cut the string that wrapped the tree—guess who gets to do the honors? If you guessed WordNerd and her father, you are correct! That can hurt if you’re in the wrong place when the twine comes undone. My father and I finally put our foot down one year; either get a fake one or go to the tree farm without us. Yeah, we’re killjoys.

However, I’m game to the W-I tree because a) we’re newlyweds, squee! and 2) we’re getting a fake tree. It will be fun, I think, to find an ornament to commemorate our first married Christmas and a few other ones that are just, well, pretty. I find myself on Etsy again in order to find whimsical, unique Christmas stuff. Hell, I may even get a wreath; I find myself regretting the fact that I didn’t get these suckers for the wedding venue doors. Each Christmas I just would’ve strung lights up on ‘em. Ready made, personalized wreaths.

Another thing we’re doing is getting gifts, wrapping them, and under the tree they go until December 25. Last year we didn’t give each other anything given the expense of the wedding (I should’ve given him our monogram wreaths, dammit!); we’ve of course exchanged gifts in the past, but the first year I lived here I was at my parents’; the second year we just handed over the goods with little ceremony. For our fourth Christmas together, though, we figure we should start with the wrapping and Christmas morning unveiling. We’ve already given each other ideas on what it is we want (we’re not into surprises), but there will be tearing of paper. Cool beans!

Already set as a tradition is Christmas Eve and/or Christmas dinner. And I said and/or because I’m not exactly sure when it is we do it. IP?

Anyway, we’re trying. One day we’ll have a set of traditions and refuse to let our relatives deviate from it without incurring our bloody wrath!