Holiday Traditions

As promised, the much anticipated Christmas Stories post I've been promising for a whole two posts...

The house I grew up in was huge, and not just to a grade-schooler, although that certainly added to it. There were six bedrooms, 2 full baths, 2 half baths, a huge kitchen, dining room, study, sun room, living room, day room (I think some of these names were engineered simply for distinction), hallways, stairwells, even a secret passageway here and there. So, living in this mammoth castle, it was only natural that everyone would convene at our house for Christmas. Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, Grand-parents, Great-grand-parents, People I didn't even know the names of, or my relation to them. Holiday pictures showed four generations. Pull out beds, cots, and sleeping bags appeared from hiding places and cubby holes I never knew about. There were always people on couches and often people on the floors.
Christmas eve I was sent up to bed as early as the adults could manage (because Santa won't come if you're still awake), while downstairs the annual Egg Nog Party ramped up. Sometime around midnight stockings would be stuffed before heading off to bed.
I kept the radio on all night to listen for "Santa Sightings." One year, my uncles and cousins went running round the house in three feet of snow ringing sleigh bells for me. I never woke-up. Poor Matthew came down with pneumonia before New Year's thanks to the escapade.
Christmas morning started at about 3 a.m., after maybe four hours of sleep. I'd run into my great-grandmother's room and ask if it was time yet. She'd say, "No! Go back to bed!" A few minutes later I'd return. "Is it time now?" "Let people sleep!" "But what if Santa's come!" "I haven't heard him yet - go back to bed." A few more minutes later. "Have you heard Santa come yet?"
After a few years of this, my Mom finally wised up and started heading me off before I could get to Grammy's room. Around 6 or 6:30 it was finally time, I had bugged everyone enough that they'd given up hope of me (and consequently them) falling asleep again. Grammy and I each grabbed a strap of sleigh bells and went through the house ringing them in people's ears and shouting "Merry Christmas!" until they got up.
There were a few years, when I was old enough to understand and young enough to believe, the family cut out big Santa-prints and little elf-prints out of paper and laid them out like a Family Circus cartoon. They came from the chimney, of course, then Santa would go to the cookies and milk (and carrots for the reindeer), then the tree, then a hop on the logs and back up the chimney. The elves were a little less focused in their efforts. They chased each other around the dining room table, hopping on the chairs, and finally walking across the table itself. They often scaled the presents like little mountain climbers trying to reach the top of the tree. One year, they stopped at the fridge and left a partially eaten slice of cheese on the floor. My Gram was so angry about the food on the floor (it would attract mice!) that she didn't notice the dishwasher the elves had left her.
After chasing elf prints (you had to follow every trail to make sure one wasn't still in the house somewhere), gift unwrapping began with stockings. Everyone had their own seat they sat in every year for Christmas. Mine was the best, Mom and I sat on the cushions in front of the picture windows. There was a heater under the seat and I was right next to the tree. It's a wonder my wrapping paper massacre never caught fire being piled up right in front of the heater.

I'm a little old for the elf-prints (just a little), but we still ring bells every year. Two years ago, I was staying with my mom for the holiday and she and my little brother burst into my bedrooms bells ringing and camera recording while I was getting dressed. Apparently, mom hadn't told me to wait a minute over the sleigh bells.
I never did make sure she destroyed that tape - she distracted me with presents. Damn.

Happy Holidays to all! May you relive your childhood this magical season.