Christmas memories

I think one of the reasons I love Christmas so much, is because of the fond memories I have of christmas as a child.

Part of those memories come from watching the old silent home movies., before the vcr and videotapes were invented. My favorite family home evenings were the times Dad would drag out the old film projector and big reels of 8 mm film. Family vacations, camping, running through the sprinklers, and every childs birthday and the blowing of the candles were forever captured in our memories thanks to those old movies. But the ones I looked forward to watching the most, were when my brother and sisters and I were lined up in front of the roaring fireplace, in our new pajamas that Mom made us every Christmas eve.

We were allowed to open one present on Christmas eve, of course it was always preselected by our Mom, and it was always a new pair of pajamas. As I recall, in the movies I was usually twirling, my sister twisting/dancing, and my brother would be stomping on some invisible bug. The trees would change from year to year. One year it might be flocked in white with big red crepe paper flowers adorning it, or green with tinsel and popcorn strung about. Our pajama's would also change as the years went by; flannel pj's with new minnie mouse slippers, or tricot nightgowns that were slick and flowing, perfect for sliding down the dining table leaves that doubled as a homemade slippery slide.

Whatever the wardrobe or tree looked like, our faces always held the same look of anticipation for who was to come, in what would always appear to be the longest night of the year!

I'm surprised Santa even made it to our house, with all those wide eyed children who found sleep impossible and was ready to catch him in the act with every bump and clatter they heard. When my sister and brother and I moved to the basement rooms, with our little siblings asleep upstairs, we would stay up late, with our radio turned down low, listening to the Santa sightings and estimating how long it would be before he found his way to our neighborhood. When we could stand it no more, we would sneek upstairs to see if the big guy had made his appearance. I don't know how he did it, but every time he came and left before we caught a glipse of him. And as was often the case, the temptation to sneek a peek at what he left was too great. With our stockings overflowing and presents piled so far and wide around the tree, it was almost overwhelming and made sleep near impossible. And most often than not, it was Mom and Dad who was shaking us awake in the morning, because eventually we drifted off to sleep and couldn't seem to wake up on our own, even knowing what awaited us upstairs.

Traditions are an important part of Christmas, and one of the traditions I've kept alive with my own children, is to let them open one present on Christmas eve, and if you guessed it was a new pair of pj's, you would be right.

The other tradition, you know, the one about having a hard time sleeping at night...oh don't you worry. Pathetically I'm still keeping that tradition alive as well.