..I’m totally traditional. Shhhhhhhhhhhh don’t tell anyone, it will totally ruin my street cred.
I’m sitting here after having feasted this Christmas, wine in hand, reflecting on what a total, traditional, happy homemaker I am.
Every year we have kielbasa from Detroit because that is just what you do on Christmas Eve.
I actually buy “Santa” paper just like my mother did before me, so all the Santa gifts have their own distinct Santa face.
We open stockings first, until adults are alive and the coffee is at least dripping.
After the chaos, left-over kielbasa and eggs for breakfast.
(mentally noting it’s always about the food)
None of these may seems like really big deals, but to me…they are HUGE. I can’t decide if that is WEIRD or completely against my nature. I mean, I’m the one who left my hometown. I was always weird. I was always the one who never fit in and always wanted OUT.
Yet I’m the one who gave both my children family names and continue traditions that have been practiced since I was born.
I don’t get it.
I mean, I spend a lot of time fighting against conforming. Well, I do and I don’t. It’s just that I was lucky. I had a warm and fuzzy and happy childhood and I want my kids to have the same.
I was never an angsty non-conformist. I was a happy non-conformist. I always did things differently and I was lucky to have parents that told me “that’s great!” In fact, I distinctly remember trying to come up with one single word to describe me for my Confirmation in 8th grade and my Dad telling me to write “Independent.”
So when I find myself screaming and yelling about politics or parenting or anything in between, it feels very natural. When I find myself DEMANDING we ship kielbasa from Detroit to Los Angeles, regardless of cost, I scratch my head a bit.
Of course this is just one part of my life. There are many other parts that would probably melt your brain they are so very NON traditional. Yet the constants…the things that never change, are as traditional as they come.
I’m embracing it, that’s for sure. As I get older I’m taking more and more pleasure in sharing those warm fuzzies with my own children. With settling into this life with a sprinkle of my mother and her mother and my grandmother’s ways in my kitchen and my home and my mind.
Maybe that’s how we all do it…take the good and rant against the bad. This Christmas I’m thankful the good I keep is in my home and in my heart. The bad I scream and yell and fight about almost always is on tv or in a newspaper or somewhere ‘else’ out there in the big wide world.
“Independent” still fits though, even if I’m currently freezing kielbasa and doing dishes.