As my mom wrote earlier in the day, "tradition was broken today, and we all survived." True. We did. My older sister Kelly is a traditionalist at heart. She makes the perfect Catholic. At her insistence we usually have the traditional foods that coordinate with specific holidays. Getting her to deviate is, well, next to impossible; can you say, "dog on a bone!"?
Christmas becomes a little more complicated in that it's Kelly's most cherished holiday, she can't help it, it's her birthday as well. So for the Paul/Falkenmeyer/Griffith girls Christmas becomes a juggling act. Getting everything prepared for the big day, keeping true to what Christmas is really about, church schedules, in-laws schedule, needless to say coordinating the Christmas marathon is a herculean effort .
Last year we all spent Christmas night at Kelly's. It was heaven! Her house is about 7500 sq feet (including the finished basement) so there is plenty of room to spread out...bliss!
This year, I have had my eyes set on the prize: spending Christmas night at Kell's. Much needed time with my mom, sisters and nieces and baby boy. This Fall has been a complete blur. I had the flu on Thanksgiving, started a new job and have barely had a second to myself. Christmas Night was to be much needed time for my soul.
Guess where I'm headed with this? Well, 48 hours prior to the big day, this bizarre 24 hour stomach bug swept through the kids school. It started with Emma who complained her belly hurt for 2 days and ended with Wyatt bursting into our room Christmas morning exclaiming, "Mom, I threw up! I feel great! Can we open presents now?!"
UGH! The good news is, he really did act totally fine. We proceeded to my in-laws (at the blessing of my favorite sister-in-law) and had a great morning/afternoon with lots of gifts and tons of yummy food. The bad news is, as we sat down to dinner, Wyatt drank a huge glass of water and within 60 seconds his face changed, eyes grew huge, and ran for the bathroom. Let's just say he didn't make it. Instead of sitting down to our prime rib feast, Aaron and I manned the mop and Lysol. UGH!
Then I had to make the call. Sigh. The bottom line: as much as Wyatt cried and begged, there was no way we could go to Kelly's. Period. As much as I wanted to, I could not in good conscious go and contaminate baby boy and everyone else. I must admit, this was a huge sign of maturity on my part. Thank God for my growing conscious and technology. I insisted on a play by play complete with lots of video tapping and texting. Emma started a new tradition; she spent the night at her beloved other cousins house and Wyatt and I snuggled and napped on the couch. Feet from us Aaron sat on the couch blowing his nose, lamenting as to why he is always has a sinus infection during the holidays. Could it be stress? No, that would make sense and be far too obvious!
Tradition. A much different evening than planned, however, as my mom wonderfully stated, we all did survive. A new tradition? I pray not!