Keeping the Tradition

We live near my husband's parents, so Thanksgiving for us takes place at their dining room table. Usually there are six of us there: My husband and daughter, my mother- and father-in-law, and their other son who flies in from California. This year, he's going to be a day late, so our Thanksgiving dinner with the family will be on Friday instead. I was ready to roll with the flow, but my daughter had strong ideas of her own.

"What?! We're not having Thanksgiving on Thanksgiving? But it's our tradition!" she exclaimed in desperation. Not only was it marking the end of a tradition for her, but it was also jeapordizing her plans for a little Black Friday shopping.

During the past few days, my kitchen has transformed. A few items stockpiled around the stove. Grocery bags laying empty and ready for recycling. A pile of groceries and a stack of recipes commandeering the counter top.

We will still have Thanksgiving dinner with my husband's family. But my husband made sure the tradition of a Thanksgiving feast would not be lost in our household. My daughter and I will sit at our kitchen table with the chef of the family and enjoy our Thanksgiving meal. On Thanksgiving, by the way, because a bountiful Thanksgiving meal is a tradition. (Just ask my daughter.)

If you celebrate Thanksgiving, I hope your day is full of blessings and good food, too! Happy Thanksgiving!

I Can't Complain ...

about football season. You see, I knew way back when that I was marrying a die-hard college football fan. Namely, a die-hard University of Alabama football fan. In fact, he chose a football weekend to propose -- at an Alabama game, no less, with his parents in tow as they celebrated their anniversary. By saying "yes" at the game, he pretty much assured himself that I couldn't complain about football season. It just is what it is, so to speak.

Before our daughter was born, I went to all of the games with him. I started off this new interest by watching the TV crews and commentators on the sidelines until finally I picked out one of the players and started following his movements on the field. Stacy Harrison. #1. Because of his enthusiasm, I became more enthusiastic. Enthusiastic enough to even learn their fight song and sing it with gleeful gusto.

I rarely went to games when our daughter was young, but she still has grown up to love the Crimson Tide and these fall football Saturdays. She and I usually travel to Homecoming with him and every now and then we'll take off with him on other football excursions. Like this past weekend when we watched the Crimson Tide face off against Michigan in the Dallas Cowboys Stadium. (That jumbotron is HUGE by the way!)

We just happened to be staying at the same hotel as the football team, so my daughter was spotting players left and right. We even spotted this guy, Gene Stallings, who happens to be one of Alabama's greatest coaches of all times.

This will probably be my only tribute to the University of Alabama this fall. But I thought it was only proper to kind of bid my husband a friendly adieu. His mother understands. She has a pillow in her house that reads, "Pardon Me, This Marriage is Interrupted by Football Season."

Roll Tide!

Birthday Traditions

My daughter and I have a tradition. Each year on the eve of her birthday, we pull out the small Peter Rabbit photo album that contains photographs from her first, real, "birth" day. We read every entry in my pregnancy journal and relive what was in my heart during those pre-birth days. We read all of the journaling I created on her First Year Calendar, laughing over the cute little things she said and did. Discussing the first words she spoke, how she would put her elbow on my shoulder as I carried her through the house, how she waved "bye-bye" backwards. She marvels at the love I felt for this tiny baby not only after she was born but for those long months as I awaited her arrival.

Her birthday is mere days before Christmas, so it would be easy to let this tradition slip to the side during the hustle and bustle of the holidays. But we don't. It's too important to share those memories with her year after year. When we revisit her birth and those special months leading up to her first, real "birth" day, she knows how deep my love is for her. She knows how important she was to me then and how important she is now thirteen years later.

So, happy December birthday, Peanut! You are an amazing and precious child of God. I love you!

XOXOXO

Mama