I just realized I came near to committing a cardinal sin: writing a part one but failing to follow up with a part two. Christmas in Suburbia does not happen on just one day, or even two days. We start celebrating Christmas Eve, plow right on through to Christmas Day with Santa Claus and Adventure Guy’s family, then move south to Texas to partake in not one but two more events.
The snow storm Christmas Eve delayed our scheduled departure time on the 26th. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. And, mostly, it’s the truth. The other part of the truth is that I wanted to sleep in a little, and DD2 wanted desperately to exchange the new Ugg boots her grandmother gave her for a larger size. We succeeded in making both things happen and still getting on the road to Texas by noon.
The first hour and a half of our trip proved to be as treacherous as the weather guys predicted, surprising both of the grownups in the car. Only one lane of the highway had been adequately cleared, making for extremely slowgoing. However, true to the state highway department’s report, things cleared right up about 100 miles south of Suburbia, and we made up some time, arriving only twenty minutes or so later than we would have under normal conditions.
And then, the eating frenzy began. I’d actually done fairly well with controlling my holiday eating (if you don’t count that first batch of divinity I had to sample for quality control purposes). That all ended with my arrival in my hometown. There were pizza rolls to eat and Tex-Mex favorites to inhale. Not to mention a second Christmas dinner and a barbeque feast for when everyone couldn’t stand to think about turkey, ham, or roast beef anymore. And holly clusters. And fudge. And more Christmas cookies, divinity, and pecan pie. We are strong on desserts in my family. Very strong.
Somehow, though, we managed to fit in opening presents amidst all the eating. Eight grandchildren on my side make for quite a bit of excitement, especially when six of them are 8 and under. We also had fun visiting with my mom’s cousin and his family who brought two more kids under six, and the exciting news of the engagement of another cousin.
But wait, there’s more. Our final celebration takes in my aunt and all the cousins on my mother’s side. The six grandchildren have managed to bless my grandmother with thirteen great-grandchildren. Again, my kids are the oldest, so the thirteen ranged from one to fifteen this year, with most falling in the ten and under category. Fortunately, my aunt and uncle host the event at their farmhouse, and the weather cooperated to allow for lots of running around outside, looking for cattle, deer, and pigs, and riding in the Rover.
Though my brother and his wife ended up extending their stay by a day to avoid airport delays in Dallas, we departed for home on the 29th after checking the forecast and noting even more snow was scheduled for that evening. We arrived back in Suburbia just as the flurries started swirling around the quickly darkening skies. I would have loved to spend more time with everyone, but two or three more days might have been a bit too much togetherness.
Instead, I spent the rest of my vacation doing as little as possible. And, that, like the rest of my holiday, was absolutely fabulous!