Traditions: The Good, The Bad, and the Unofficial

I like a good tradition but I'm not one to fly off the handle if we celebrate Christmas on a day  *gasp* OTHER than Christmas day! My opinion has always been that as long as the family can be together, it doesn't matter WHAT day it is. Growing up we celebrated both Christmas and a condensed version of Hanukkah (my father grew up Jewish but later converted to Catholicism soon after he and my mother were married). The holidays seemed simple enough, we celebrated Hanukkah on Christmas Eve, and we celebrated Christmas on Christmas day. Each day had its own traditions, some of which I try to incorporate into my own new family traditions, and some we thankfully left to linger as memories. 

Christmas Eve/Hanukkah
Shrimp cocktail - three per person! I think that shrimp cocktail was a lot more expensive back when I was growing up. Maybe it wasn't as readily available, maybe the adults worried that we wouldn't eat what we had on our plates. Whatever way you spin it, I will forever associate shrimp cocktail with my grandma's house. Shrimp cocktail is incorporated into our present holiday tradition. It remains delicious and we are fortunate enough to maintain an ample supply.
Looking for Santa - Now I'm not sure who started this and certainly it didn't last forever, but at some point during the night we would hear distant sleigh bells and one of the adults would call us all to look out the back windows because someone had spotted Santa's sleigh. Being the youngest, I thank the older kids who humored me. I typically stood there the longest thinking that if I looked away for just one second, I would surely miss it. Eventually someone would lure me away from the window, possibly with an additional piece of shrimp.
My first bra - Yes, I know this doesn't have anything to do with tradition, but it will forever be emblazoned to my memory as a monumental Christmas event. My parents bought me this red silk skirt and white blouse combo to wear that day. It was a real blouse, the kind my mom wore and I felt so grown up; but like any good blouse wearer, I need an accompanying bra. I don't remember the shopping part, my mom probably just brought it home and told me to wear it, but however it happened, it was a big deal and will remain a part of my Christmas memories. Heck, maybe I will be lucky enough to bestow upon my own daughter her first bra. Maybe even on Christmas.
Lights out, tree on - This was by far one of my favorite traditions and is something I still do today; and one of these days my kids will grow to appreciate it too, I swear. We did this the first day the tree was set up, and usually when we got home from my grandparent's house on Christmas Eve. The lights of the house would all be out, and we would come home and lay on the floor or couch and stare at the tree lights. We would attempt to find multi-colored constellations and patterns all the while dreaming about our Christmas lists and what might be lurking under the tree the next morning.

Christmas Day
Strawberries on Ritz - Gross, I know. Not to be outdone by the adults in the appetizer department, my cousin and I dreamed up a delicious canapé consisting of strawberries (perhaps frozen) and Ritz crackers. There might have been cream cheese between the strawberry and the cracker. We plated them up and walked them around to the family, butler-style. The adults obediently took a few bites of our culinary delight, smiled, then politely spit it out in a napkin once we turned to the next guest. Needless to say, this tradition has not been carried on. A few years ago our parents replicated this appetizer and forced us to eat it.
Soup or Fruit? This is another strange food rationing quirk, but on my mom's side of the family. Our semi-traditional Italian Christmas started with wedding soup or fruit salad (followed by the Christmas lasagna, of course). We would sit at the kids table and the adults would come around and ask if we wanted soup or fruit? There was never an option for both, and after the soup was served, the fruit did some magical disappearing act. I never actually saw anyone take the fruit, the fruit was an enigma. As adults we still joke about the soup/fruit conundrum. This is actually the first year Christmas will not take place at my Grandmother's house. Hoping the tradition, and the option carries on. 
Pageantry - Like any good traditional American family, Christmas (and more or less any other holiday gathering with my cousins) ended up with the kids putting on some sort of show. My sister, typically was our director and we found ourselves acting out scenes from various movies, musicals, or an original piece. There was a magical trunk filled with moth-ball scented suits, dresses, and other rejected hand-me-downs. I honestly think the adults enjoyed this as much as we did. Rehearsals kept us busy, and out of trouble (for the most part). Unfortunately, the performances stopped about the time we hit high school. As adults, we have tried to convince our offspring to put down the iPods and come up with some sort of holiday entertainment...we are still waiting. 
Torrone - Nougat + honey + almonds, sometimes lemon flavored, sometimes orange, sometimes vanilla. There was always a jar of them in the dining room at Christmas. You either love them or hate them. Personally, I love them. I buy them when I see them, but they have to be the La Florentine brand. So far, my son likes them...tradition secured.

My keyboard is currently lit by the dim multi-colored lights of our Christmas tree. Everyone is sleeping and the house is silent. The lights start to blur as I stare into them, trying to find patterns. No longer worried about what gifts I might be receiving, I look forward to the excitement on our children's faces and I look forward to the traditions that we create within our own small family unit.  

Merry Christmas

We Heart Santa

I love photos with Santa, but only the kind that would make Norman Rockwell roll over in his grave (he is dead, right?). It only took one year of having kids to realize that I would never be the kind of parent who was able to walk away with that Rockwellian Christmas photo, so I embraced it.
The first year Gus was old enough to really have a cute Santa photo was a big deal for me. I made a point to dress him up in his finest holiday sweater-vest and have his picture taken at our annual kids holiday party at the office. One of the employees was known for his realistic, (naturally-bearded) portrayal of Santa. I stood in line waiting for our turn with every intention of expecting that picture-perfect moment between my child, wonder and awe in his eyes, and Santa. It took about one second to realize this wasn't going to happen. So I walked away with a photo of my son, the kid who cried so hard that he was redder than Santa's coat and had a mixture of tears, drool, and snot smeared across his face, and a giggling Santa.
As the years progressed, I sort of made it my goal to walk away with the worst picture with Santa that I could muster. I have actually been pretty lucky. But Gus is older now and the terror of Santa has sort of worn off. But we are lucky enough to have Parker. Parker is almost two. She is what the books and websites refer to as "spirited" so I figured that this Santa thing could go either way. So last night, I packed the kids up and headed out to the mall. We have a really great Santa at our mall, you know, the kind with the REAL beard {my husband (the Bacon) recently regurgitated some statistic relating to the fact that naturally-bearded Santas make more money during the holiday season then their artificially-bearded counterparts}. The kids were particularly well-behaved on this trip. They quietly sat through a cell phone upgrade (a feat in of itself), a healthy food-court dinner, and a quick stop at the jewelry store to have a ring repaired. But then it was time...SANTA! Gus became a little shy as we approached the big guy, but I could tell that he didn't want to miss out on the opportunity to put in his request for Optimus Prime and Bumble Bee. But as luck would have it, I have been blessed with another child, terrified of Santa. 

I took this one with my cell phone (good thing I stopped in for that upgrade). You can see the terror on Parker's face at being left with this guy. And Gus, although it is blurry, is holding his sister's hand and looking at Santa as if to say, do you see this, I'm being a good brother.

Below is the gem that was captured by the photographer at the mall and I must say that she has a gift. Parker is at the peak of her shrieks and Gus cannot lean further away. He doesn't want to be associated with the creature who might ruin his chances at scoring Optimus or Bumble Bee. He told us this morning that she embarrassed him in front of Santa—how sweet.

So our journey continues and I can only hope that next year's picture holds the same amount terror and tears. We wish you all a Merry Christmas. 

The Pre-Christmas Purge

Now that I have my own kids, I like to reflect on my childhood and pass judgment on the things my parents did wrong. You know, the things I PROMISED myself I would never do as a parent-like tell my kids that they can have control of the radio when they own their own car, make my daughter wear a bridesmaid dress to the prom because it happens to be a few weeks after her sister's expensive wedding, sit at the table in front of a cold plate of liver instead of just agreeing to letting me starve. Nevertheless; as horrible as those things were, there is an (almost) equally long list of the things that I think my parents did right. Making sure we were culturally well-rounded, even when we couldn't afford it; allowing us each to go through our own phases without much interception (although in hindsight the phase where I refused to wear product in my naturally curly hair will fall into the aforementioned "wrong" category); and making sure we understood the value of volunteering our time to others.

This is us in 1980. I'm the cute one in the middle who didn't get the memo about not smiling.

As a kid, I always enjoyed helping out with what I felt to be my parents' latest "crusade." I don't mean that in a negative way either, they always had fun and interesting volunteer activities for us to take part in. We spent several years packing bags and stocking shelves at the local food bank, we volunteered for a number of years at a local soup kitchen, we gathered the extended family and adopted a small nursing home during the holidays (we took one Saturday and spent all day decorating, singing, cooking, and having a mini-Christmas with the residents), and we volunteered as "helpers" during the annual Christmas Dance for kids with Downs Syndrome. I swear, my sister still has lingering bruises on her shins from dancing all night long with a boy in a wheel chair. But whatever the activity du jour was, it felt good, and we never argued about it or complained about being dragged along. I give my parents full credit for my continued enjoyment and passion for volunteering (see mom, I told you I would talk about this).

At five and almost two, my kids are still a little young for a lot of the volunteer projects that we take part in, but teaching them the concept of philanthropy has already started. As members of The Canton Chapter of The Foundation for Community Betterment, my husband (the Bacon) and I have been introduced to many great projects that illustrate Betterment's overall mission, which is to help others who share our philanthropic vision but lack the means to succeed. Believe me, I can (and will) dedicate an entire post to the topic of Betterment alone. This year we were lucky enough to get involved with a Thanksgiving project that allowed us to take our son to a "craft day" where we made place mats, napkin holders, and centerpieces for families who were receiving dinners from The Thanksgiving For Others Project. Explaining to him that there are people out there who aren't as fortunate as our family is sometimes a challenge but I think overall he gets the gist of it. 

This year we also did our annual "Pre-Christmas Purge," where we go through all of the toys in the house and pick out some of the toys that are still in fairly good shape, but are out of our play rotation, and drop them off at one of the local charitable donations centers. This year I was overwhelmed, and a bit surprised, by my son's generosity. He was certainly willing to part with some of his sister's "baby toys" because "she IS growing up now," but as we continued through our play room, he just kept adding and adding things to the pile. A race track that he had coveted for months and months and finally got for Christmas two years ago made it to the pile, some crafty toys that he said were too messy (what?), and a few miscellaneous items from the oft-forgotten toy box also made the donation box. And just to show that HE wasn't the only one who had to get rid of his stuff, we did a little purging of our own!

He thought it was a great idea to fasten the cars to the track with tape, I must say that I had to agree. I just love the close-up of his little hands taping those cars to the track, and let me tell you, that was early on in the taping stage. After he was done, those cars weren't going anywhere.

As the kids get older, I know there will be more and more opportunities to get them involved in charitable work the same way my parents did. I hope that someday there is a fancy-schmancy hi-tech device that allows my children to recount their stories of growing up with inspirational parents and translate those stories into eloquently written masterpieces that are automatically downloaded into our brains. Today that outlet is called a blog and my keyboard is the fancy hi-tech device that allows me to translate my memories into moderately well-written, yet wordy streams for others to enjoy.

Why I'm Starting This Blog

I'm sure many blogs start with "...I've been considering a blog for quite some time now..." but really, I swear, I have. There haven't been any major road blocks or computer issues to prevent this from happening, maybe just the general apathy that rules my life. 


I have a lot of great ideas that I later see on TV in the middle of the night featured in an infomercial (those snaps that you put on your pants so they can be worn with heels OR flats—that was my idea but I used electrical tape and it wasn't very effective). But as I pore over blogs and Pinterest pins I find these recurring themes and great ideas from stay-at-home moms who manage to rear three or more kids, keep a tidy and organized house, come up with crafty yet educational things on a daily basis, AND take the associated photos of said crafty/organized/tidy/educational things (all in one breath). What I DON'T find is a blog written by the mom who puts in an 8-hour day at the office, comes home to kiss the husband and kids, and start dinner (which hasn't been defrosted and isn't patiently waiting in a crock pot), all the while NOT taking photos of any activity aside from the occasional weekend happening (but even those pictures are cut short because we realize that we haven't charged our camera battery since we used it two months ago).

A list of things that have prevented me from starting a blog:

1. I have nothing compelling to say.
2. I lack follow-through.
3. I can't squeeze another thing into my jam-packed life (my husband's initial reaction).
4. I'd just end up just telling stories about my kids that only relatives should have to suffer through, not the general public.

BUT, I started to think about the lack of craft-challenged, working-mom blogs and I felt that it was my civic duty to inform what I feel to be the general public that we cannot all be the over-achieving types we are secretly (or not so secretly) jealous of!

A list of things that made me think I should actually write this blog:

1. I MIGHT have something compelling to say to at least one person.
2. I really don't lack follow-through when it is something I care about.
3. I can tell people about the things that are happening in my jam-packed life.
4. I have some pretty good stories about the lessons I AM able to teach my kids, all the while balancing my career, volunteer work, and being the best wife I can be.

So I suppose an introduction to the title of this blog, Balancing Babies, Business, Betterment and Bacon, is in order...

1. Balance: Don't we all strive for this?
2. Babies: So my kids are actually 5 and almost 2 but babies started with a B.
3. Business: This is my day-job as a marketing professional for a SaaS company.
4. Betterment: The Canton Chapter of the Foundation for Community Betterment has won my heart and a lot of my time. I have made some of my best friends through this group AND it has allowed me to introduce the value of volunteering and benevolence to my family.
5. Bacon - That is my husband. He is actually the person who came up with the title for this blog (so he actually gave himself the bacon moniker). His dietary lifestyle includes the preparation and consumption of an obscene amount of bacon. But he is my perfect match and I wouldn't have it any other way.

So there you have it.