My Christmas Holiday Journal - Days 3 & 4

December 29, 2024

December 26 - A Chill Day, Ciel & Iris Arrive

I have entered the “losing track of days of the week” stage of Christmas holidays. Not knowing what day of the week it is, not needing to know, not caring, is such a lovely feeling.

There have been seasons of life where the in-between-ness of the Christmas holiday has felt uncomfortable or disconcerting. Where am I? Who am I? What am I doing with my life? Those are not questions that plague me this year. Home is where I am. Mom is who I am. (This is not my only identity, but this Christmas this part of me fills all the spaces.) And what I’m doing with my life is making Christmas for my family.

Sitting with Laurent on the couch in the morning is such a great start to the day. He draws. I monitor the birds at the feeder. Just having kids around is such a treat.

We have no plans for this day and the day unfolds in that manner, unhurried and unremarkable in its happenings but completely remarkable in that my boy is here and I get to be in his presence and hear about his life in casual conversations versus our usual mode of not-so-frequent phone conversations and texts.

My heart is so happy.

Looking ahead to supper I realize that my original plans to make a whole new meal tonight are unnecessary. This is only day three and we already have leftovers to eat up.

Instead, I made a lentil and wild rice salad to add to the leftovers.

Ciel and Iris’ train is running late, a not-uncommon occurence for Via Rail. We monitor the train’s progress online. Damien leaves to go pick them up and Laurent and I eat supper together and then start a movie.

Around 9pm Ciel and Iris arrive with Damien. Supper is served for the travelers and stories are told around the kitchen island. The kids marvel at the tree and the outdoor lights. Everything is so much appreciated - the food, the decorations, just being here.

I remember the feeling myself of coming here for Christmas with my parents, kids in tow.

Although I am skeptical of simplifying something as complex as how we experience love to five or some other number of “love languages”, doing things for other people (serving them in some way) and affirming people verbally and expressing my feelings verbally, in general, are definite ways I express love (and also look to receive it).

Doing the work of making Christmas for my kids, preparing the house, stocking the food, cooking the food, creating a welcoming home, etc. is me communicating my love for them to them. To have them see the efforts and then express to me their appreciation is having that love returned back to me.

I’ve been wondering what differences we’d experience this holiday now that our nest is empty. What does it feel like to have the kids come home for Christmas? My kids deeper appreciation and their expression of that appreciation to me is one of the differences.

Damien sets up the camp mat in the loft. I cover the mattress with a flannel sheet and we’ll use our sleeping bags like personal quilts. Camp mats and sleeping bags are not a sacrifice and I’ve been looking forward to doing just this when our home is full of kids, giving our room and bunking in the loft.

We’ll be sleeping up here for the next six nights as we tuck all the kids and partners into bedrooms around the property. Ciel and Iris are in our room. Laurent is sleeping in my office/guest room until Brie and Ian arrive and then he’ll move into the garage loft, which is currently my brother’s home, to share a bedroom with his cousin.

I appreciated this mellow day and the excitement of another child’s arrival.

December 27 - And now there are 9 around the table.

Sleeping in the loft I have a view of the eastern sky growing yellow around 7am. I tuck back into my sleeping bag for a bit more sleep.

When I get up an hour later I notice that everything sparkles with frost this morning. So before starting the fire, emptying the dishwasher, and making coffee I step out to take in the beauty through my camera lens.

Bacon is cooked in the oven and I make my signature crepes, served with summer-picked berries, for breakfast. Damien makes the espresso.

My parents join us. Mom brings the geitost (which becomes my personal brunost since it’s not a flavor the kids appreciate). We linger at the table in the way unique to holidays, nowhere to be, nothing to do (except of course starting the cooking for the next meal!).

It is a gorgeous sunny day and between the residual heat coming off the wood stove and the passive solar heat of the sun I have to open up windows to cool things down.

My parents haven’t seen the kids since last Christmas, there is much to catch up on, including the fact that Ciel just finished their bachelor’s degree this term, a cause for celebration.

During breakfast a new bird visits the feeder. It’s a yellow finch, an Evening Grosbeak. The species count is now up to 9.

We disperse from breakfast to start the day’s doings. I prepare the chili (and more bacon for bacon bits) for tonight’s Baked Potato Bar supper. I’ve switched the music from religious Christmas carols and secular Christmas classics to Spotify Yuletide playlists. The energy and lyrics of these songs, I guess you'd call it the vibe, feels exactly right for this crowd and these days.

I get my supper prep done and I go for walk with the kids in the back woods. Their appreciation of its beauty just adds to my delight and satisfaction.

Supper is at 6:30 and we’re now 9 around the table, about the max we can fit comfortably.

We’re having a feast of baked potatoes with all the toppings and all the households contribute something to the meal. Mom brings homemade lemon meringue pie for dessert.

A group of us (ok, basically my family) watch Alien: Romulus on the big screen at Mom and Dad’s. I’m relatively new to the Alien movies and gosh, this is a gory one but also a fun kind of terror.