Two layouts for Christmas Eve.

The first is an image my husband captured as I shaped a dough ball for our Christmas dinner rolls. Unfortunately, I forgot to take the rolls out of the refrigerator for their final rise until it was too late. The finished rolls were heavy and awful, when usually they are melt-in-your-mouth amazing. Oh well. The recipe can be found here.

Journaling reads:

My hand’s are starting to resemble my mother’s hands. Dry, rough, creased. Hands that shape the dough, smooth the wrinkles, and wipe up the spills. Hands that feel the forehead for warmth, that stroke the back when you cry. Baking hands. Cleaning hand. Cooking Hands. Calming hands. Loving hands. Creative hands. Momma’s hands.

The second layout features the stool that Lyra uses as a personal desk and the only shot I have of our Christmas tree and wrapped presents. The cookies are the ones Lyra helped to make on Day 22. The Garfield cup has milk, and it is a mug that Garrett has had since childhood. Before going to bed, Lyra asked us to make sure the fire was out in the fireplace. She didn’t want Santa to get burned coming down the chimney.

We’re almost done. If you’re sticking with me, Thank you. If’ you bailed along time ago, know I understand.

I don’t really want to say more about this page, other than to say that it was written with the intention that Lyra would probably be able to read the words, long before she understood the true myth of Santa. I wanted to protect the myth for her, while still telling the story. (And yes, I noticed that it is yet another picture of food. Ahem.)

Journaling reads:

I recently told Lyra that sometimes grown-ups are asked to be special helpers to Santa. When she asked what we help with I simply told her that was a secret of growing up. And that when she became a grown-up, Santa would ask her and she’d know.

This year, Santa asked a special grown-up, to help make this holiday mind-blowing for a magical, four-year-old girl. A girl who will now own many of the the toys and playthings that she has longed for at other children’s houses. It will be a holiday of overwhelming abundance, for which she will not know how to fully be thankful.

But her momma will.

Thank you, Santa’s Helper, for making this Season brighter. Thank you for all Christmases you made bright for me as a child. And thank you for making me an egg scramble and toast on a chilly morning, two days before Christmas.

The final layouts of December Daily 2011. Thank you for coming along for the ride. Let’s finish this story up, shall we?

The first layout is oddly one of my favorites of the whole album.  I think because it is the layout that best represents my role in the execution of Christmas. The image on the right is scan of my actual Christmas Eve/Christmas Day To-Do List. I had so many little tasks, and my anxiety was so high, I had to write it down so I could stop running through it all in my head. I gave my husband the camera and asked him take pictures of me at work. I hate all the mess on the counter, but the mess is Real, a reflection of how busy I am. A dozen baking and cooking projects in process. Santa to play. Work to get done.

Yes, there is plenty of joy, and joyful moments, in getting ready for a holiday. But, there is work in the making of the magic. It’s work that I now clearly understand as an adult, more specifically as a parent. I know why my parents has specific rules about not waking them up before 7 AM on Christmas morning. I know now that they probably went to bed at 4 AM. I know now how exhausted my mom was making Christmas dinner on just a few hours of sleep, on what seemed like just a few days after the last giant dinner of Thanksgiving.

The traditions that unfold during this season are magical. I love making memories for my girl. I love giving her things to look forward to beyond presents and wish lists. I want the month of December to be a whole body experience: sights, sounds, smells, tastes, warmth, cold. But making it all happen takes work. Work I am honored to do, but work still. It is okay to say it makes me tired. It is okay to say there was much on my mind this season that made making magic more tiring than in the past. That is real, too. And for me, this layout, tells that story better than all the rest.

Here are the recipes:

• Prime Rib from Pioneer Woman (super delicious)
• Spiral sliced ham in slow cooker (technique learned here)
• Crunchy ham glaze (my best ham glaze ever)
• Sauteéd Brussel Sprouts with Bacon & Cranberries (bacon was used here, so I combined the two techniques; I loved this dish but it gave me miserable heartburn)
• Oven Roasted Broccoli with Panko (been making this for years, not sure where I first saw it, but this recipe is essentially what I do)

The second layout is a little unusual for Christmas Day. Certainly there were many stories I could tell from this day, a day in which my parents, my brother, and my nieces joined us for dinner. I could talk about the stuff we received, the stuff we gave. I could talk about the baked french toast I made for breakfast that no one ate, except me. But, as much as December Daily is a way for me to journal my own holiday experience, the overarching story is broader. I think about what will be significant three, or ten, or even thirty years from now. And this year, the story that had true legs, is the story of Lyra receiving a Spider-Man bike for Christmas and learning to ride on two wheels with the help of the gyrowheel.

The Spider-Man bike was gently used and found via Craigslist. Yes, Santa brought my daughter a used bike for Christmas. Yes, we’re okay with that. Lyra has no clue, as telling her would cause ripples in the Santa myth. She is Spider-Man crazy right now, after discovering the vintage cartoon series on Netflix a couple of months, ago. She is a pink-loving, ruffle-wearing girlie girl. She absolutely loves her shiny shoes and fancy dresses. But that doesn’t stop her from loving web-slinging superheroes. If her bike had been covered with Disney Princesses, she would still have been thrilled. But receiving a Spider-Man bike meant that Santa really knew what she wanted, deeply and truly in her heart. And what could be more magical to a four-year-old than feeling like Santa can truly see you?

I have such strong memories of the first two big kid bikes I owned. I remember how grown up I felt when I finally kicked off the dorky training wheels and could pedal with my older brother. And watching my girl go from wobbly and nervous, to a smiling confident rider in less than two hours reminded me of that first year we spent together. When her whole world would change simply because she learned how to bring her hand to her mouth, or sit up, or crawl. She is still so tiny to me, but this year she has gained some Big Kid skills. She’s a reader and now a bike rider. And in a few months, she will be a kindergartner. So, the story that lives on from this day, Christmas Day, is the one in which I watched my girl receive a present that catapulted her into a new world: Big Kid Independence.

Journaling reads:

Christmas Day was a good day. A day filled with family and food. But years from now, I am certain that this Christmas will be remarkable for one thing: You became a Big Kid.

Santa brought you a Spiderman bike and hid it in the garage. He left you the garage remote in your stocking. The garage door opener was a cool gift to you. You were pretty happy to finally have your own way to open the garage.

It wasn’t until I had to carry some boxes outside and asked for your help to open the garage that we discovered what Santa had been up to. “How did he know that Spiderman was my favorite superhero?!” you asked. Daddy and I laughed and said, Santa always knows.”

With the gyrowheel attached you took a few nervous pedals with Daddy’s help. An hour later, you were riding free. Look at you go.

Go, Lyra. Go!

Final Page

This is the final page of the December Daily album. It is a collage of all the holiday cards we received. I have always wanted a way to preserve the cards without creating paper clutter, and this was a perfect solution for me. They will now be a permanent part of this year’s holiday story.

I did a lot of baking this holiday season, adding some new favorites in when the tried and true recipes I’ve been making for a while. I may still do a quick page that lists all the recipes, I think that might be really cool to look at years from now, especially for Lyra. In the mean time, here’s a list of all the cookies and sweets, with links to the recipes:

• The NY Times/Jacques Torres Chocolate Chip Cookie  (these are perfection; freeze proportioned dough balls for bake and eat cookies any time)
• Everyday Food Chocolate Mint Wafers (taste like upscale thin mints; recipe is a bit fussy)
• nutmeg maple butter cookies from smitten kitchen (loved these; great change-up from traditional sugar cookies)
• Grandma’s All Occasion Sugar Cookies by Dorie Greenspan (perfect, any occasion sugar cookies–I keep some of this in the freezer almost all year).

Journaling reads:

Small rolling pin and small hands. Hands that crack eggs fingers that wipe every beater clean. At four-years-old, you are already so comfortable in the kitchen. So eager to dive in to any sweet recipe I’m baking up. It’s hard for me to give up my space, and to let you in. It’s hard for me to go slower, when the To Do List is long and I just want to get it done. But, your pride is worth it. Your joy, is worth it. Watching your little baker emerge, is worth it. Some day, you will better at this than I am. I can’t wait.

We spent a lot of this Solstice Day sitting in a mini-van as my brother navigated LA traffic and I talked Lyra through car sickness. As a momma to one child, I don’t experience the constant bickering and one-upsmanship that happens when two or more children are in the same room, let alone the same car. Lyra and her cousins bickered and whined plenty while we were in the car. If it weren’t so aggravating, it might have been hilarious.

But when we were outside and free they were giddy, silly, and oh-so-much fun. I love this series of preschooler silly faces. It, along with the one with them sitting on the floor, were taken inside of a Banana Republic. The lighting was excellent in that store. If you peek between Lyra and Ayla’s heads, you can partially see me. The kids are sitting in front of a giant mirror. I tries to get a different shot altogether, that would better play with their reflections, but it’s impossible to get three preschool-aged kids to do the same thing at the same time.

This was jam-packed day, but, I’ll let the images + words tell the story.

Journaling reads:

Today we drove up to LA with your cousins—Nena & Ayla—for our annual trip to The Grove. Jack and Allie met us there. The traffic was bad and you got car sick. But when we finally got there, you had a ball. We ate a ton of food, took a picture with Santa, and bought a hat for Daddy. We spent some time at the American Girl Doll store and saw one celebrity (Jason Lee). You could have cared less about both. Afterwards, we drove out to Pasadena to see an amazing neighborhood filled with Christmas lights.

{I found some posts stuck in draft status, so I’m pushing them through. –YL}

There is a part of me that wants to be so totally okay with this layout. But…it’s January. The pants are tighter. The skin is less-firm. I am haunted by the promises I made myself a year ago, and the heavy weight of failure.

Yes. I said it.

Last year’s move toward wellness has ended in failure. I had a good run, for about seven months. Then, injury happened. A lot of Life happened. And I am, much to my dismay, not as equipped to handle Life in ways that also keep me healthy. I handle Life with insomnia, rounds of crying, and a lot of wiping away tears with sugar, salt, butter, and cream.

I wish I were different, but I haven’t learned to be. I can fake for a long time. But being fit and well never becomes second nature for me. It’s always work. Work I’ve given up on. For now. Until…

Later. Later.

So what to say about this layout and the journaling? I don’t know. I loved everything I ate, when I ate it. I loved photographing it. I  love the way all these glorious creations look when collaged together. Food is definitely a part of celebration for me. It’s also a part of grief. It’s a way of showing affection, and having affection bestowed upon me. It’s a memory preserver and and time machine. And it is a very big part of the way I have found joy during the holiday season, however fleeting eating something delicious is at delivering joy.

So, it is truth. This layout represents something real and very trues about who I am and what I value. Right now. Today. And years from now, when I look back on this, I may be in the exact same, or very different shoes. But I have a feeling I will find solace in seeing this glimpse at myself tucked in amongst the other stories.

Journaling reads:

Let us—just this once—pay homage to a thing we call Holiday Indulgence. In January, we shall feel quite bad about all of the destructive sweets and luxurious fats in which we coated ourselves during the days that led up to Christmas.

But for now, let’s just stare at the pretty textures, the caramelized sugars, the perfect grains of salt. Let us watch the perfectly-tempered chocolate ooze, the pounds of butter melt.

Let us have gratitude for access to this sheer abundance.

Let us celebrate our ability to craft goodness with out own two hands.

Let us revel in the magic of restaurants, shared meals, and camaraderie.

Let us accept that in December, we EAT. We cook. We bake. And yes, we eat.