Christmas Memories...

So you know how everyone has these memories of wonderful Christmas' of the past?  There's caroling around the tree, drinking hot chocolate while watching the fire crackle and burn in the fireplace, tucking the kids in bed while they can barely contain their excitement that SANTA is coming...

Those aren't my memories.

Now, I didn't have a rough childhood.  We always had plenty of presents under the tree.  I've never believed in Santa (gasp!) but I loved getting up early on Christmas morning (my big brother would set his alarm so he could get up my sister and me...we were dorks).  Inevitably I'd get shoes, underwear and some kind of book.  Classic "you needed them" presents.

However, my most memorable Christmas didn't happen when I was a child.  It happened just a few years ago at my daughter's first Christmas.  Before you think I'm going to get all sappy and talk about how she opened a present and gave us a huge grin, thereby inducing tear filled moments, think again.  I'm not that nostalgic.  Or sappy.

I like to call this story "The day we almost starved to death".

Let me set the stage.  Hannah was 7-months-old.  Like many Christmas' before, we all gathered together at my husband's family's house.  And also like many Christmas' before, Joel and I were the first ones there.  When we're told we're going to eat at 1, we're there at 12:30 so we can set up our food and be ready to actually EAT at 1.  Silly us.

Now let me just say that Joel has 5 sisters.  3 of those sisters have 5 of their own children.  Simple math tells you that 15 kids right there.  At this time we only had 1 and another one of Joel's sisters only had 1.  So there were 17 kids to be fed, plus 12 adults.  Again with the simple math.  29 people.  Let's just round up to 30, shall we?  I'm probably forgetting someone anyway.

I love Joel's family, I really do.  But when it comes to punctuality, well...there is none.  I could tell another story about my wedding day, but that's for another day.  Since my family is notoriously on-time for everything, this took a lot of getting used to when I married in to his family.  Luckily I beat  helped Joel be a punctual person and he helps me to lighten up a little :)

So back to Christmas day.  1:00 came and went and still Joel, Hannah and I were the only ones at his parent's house.  Over the next hour, 3 of his sisters arrived with their kids.  1 sister lived out of state so she wasn't coming.  2:00 came and we were still waiting for the last sister to arrive.  By now my stomach was more than growling.  It was becoming this loud beast, making gnarling sounds and cramping.  And lest you think I'm a terrible mother, Hannah was a baby so she ate...something or other.

FINALLY the straggling sister arrived with her brood.  It was time to eat.  Or so we thought.

Let me say again, I love Joel's family.  I really do.  But some Christmas traditions need to be postponed until the empty caverns that were out stomachs could be filled.  But some traditions can not be postponed.  So we all gathered together in a room the size of a 1-car-garage (because it was a renovated 1-car-garage) and proceeded to read the Christmas story.  Did I mention there were 30 of us?  Oh, and did I mention the fireplace was on?  After the Christmas story was read, it was time to sing carols.  Now you may be thinking of just a few "Oh Holy Nights"  Nope, the living room has a piano.  And we had hymnals.  By this time my stomach was starting to eat my spleen.

I can't remember how many songs we sang since I'm pretty sure I blacked out from starvation for a time.  What I remember next was a tape being put into the tape deck.  Yes, the tape deck.  They still exist!  My father-in-law does have a nice singing voice.  So he thought it'd be nice to share a special music number with us.  Like I said, he has a nice singing voice.  A nice, LOUD singing voice.  Remember how we're all crammed in a small space?  Remember that there are 30 of us?  Remember how we're all sweating from being is the above-mentioned small space and the fire going?  Oh, and remember how I'm losing my spleen? Well, then imagine being yelled at graced with a special 4-minute song.

By the time the song was over and it was announced we could eat, it was closing in on 3:30.

Some people have wonderful Christmas memories; I'm just thankful I still have my spleen.