Everyone Wants to Go To Neverland

Yesterday was Pikku Joulu.  It is well documented on this blog.  Here and here and even here.  

It's our made-up holiday.  If you're going to make up a holiday, you might as well do it with a name that's hard to pronounce.  That's what I've always said.

I took a good hard look at our tradition this year.  Because I've had a difficult autumn (difficult in some ways, lovely in others), because I'm as busy as I've ever been, because I feel a great deal of burn out lately, I seriously considered scrapping Pikku Joulu.

But then I remembered two things.  Traditions and the fact that I'm a grown up.  Last week Braeden was lamenting his lack of free time and angst over growing up.  We were in the van at the time and from the back seat, Mark said, "Everyone wants to go to Neverland, but no one can."

(Mark can almost always be relied upon for comments from the back seat that Braeden finds unhelpful.)

Growing up is at times an unwelcome prospect.  It means work and responsibility and a lack of sympathy when you are an eighth grader complaining to your mom about how busy you are.  Often though, it means you have to just get over yourself and accept it.

I'm the grown up.  The keeper of the traditions.  The guardian of the magic that means Christmas to my little family. 

Tradition has been a woman's province. Women have kept the family strong through the value of tradition in the family, community and region.

Sharyn Mccrumb

I was the recipient of wonderful traditions while growing up.  My mother, through busy and stressful times, through difficult financial seasons, through sassy children and muddy boots, kept those traditions alive.  Like her mother.  And her mother.

I can't drop the ball.

Family traditions counter alienation and confusion.  They help us define who we are; they provide something steady, reliable and safe in a confusing world.

Susan Lieberman

Growing up has pleasant sides too.  One is that as keeper of the traditions, you can also be author of the traditions and you can amend them as well.  I was reminded of that when I made our clam chowder for Pikku Joulu.  I use both my mother's and Adam's mother's recipes.  Side by side.  I add some of one and some of the other and come up with my clam chowder.

It seems symbolic of all the things we've learned from both good families.  As grown ups we're able to take what we want.  We can make it our own.  We can mix up some magic for our children.  We can keep traditions alive.

When you look at your life, the greatest happinesses are family happinesses.

Joyce Brothers

How can I not be the happiest girl in America?