Twas the Night Before Christmas, our Family Tradition

Ever since I was a kid, I've loved the quiet magic of Christmas Eve. Even as an adult, decades past the age of believing in Santa, there is always that split second late at night--with presents wrapped, toys constructed, and hopefully snow gently falling--when, lying down to Christmas Eve sleep, I think, "Well, you never know . . . "

Perhaps because Christmas Eve has always felt so magical, most of our family Christmas traditions are based on it rather than Christmas day (definitely not a quiet magic in a house with three children). Ever since I was a child, the main meal has been on Christmas Eve, and I continue that tradition with either a spaghetti casserole with homemade meat sauce, a crown roast of pork, or a turkey. One year, during the roaring 1990s, we even had a beef tenderloin. We have a festive salad decorated with pecans and dried cranberries, and dessert (which isn't a normal fixture at our table). Whether it is Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, I also try to quietly serve a favorite food that represents a loved one no longer with us. Brussel sprouts for my dad; cherry cordials for my husband's grandmother. (Note: brussel sprouts do not go well with spaghetti casserole.)

From early afternoon on, our children continually check on Santa's route through the official NORAD Santa Tracker. This has fascinated our three since they were tiny. Now that they are older, this is one tradition that brings back some of Santa's magic to them. "Dad" turns back into "Daddy". I turn back into "Mama" from "Mom" and everyone snacks on warm artichoke dip, and cider (for the kids) and Harvey's Bristol Cream (for the parents) until the big meal.

Now that the kids are older, the evenings last much, much longer. On typical weekend nights, our daughter is often up way past my husband and me. However, on Christmas Eve, all children have to go to bed before their parents. Last year, we introduced them to "It's a Wonderful Life" (our daughter cried). And we all enjoy "A Christmas Story," which is a must-watch when Grandma is here for Christmas.

Late in the evening, the kids still put milk and cookies out for Santa on our little ceramic Santa plate. Christmas wish lists are placed next to the cookies--one last hail-Mary for the must-have item of the year. Then the three of them try to crowd into my husband's chair with him, although now their longer and longer bodies drape around him or perch next to his knee. He reads them two traditional stories. Representing his childhood, he reads "Santa Mouse." Then, he reads the Night Before Christmas (or A Visit from St. Nicholas, depending on where you were raised). We eagerly bought both books when I was pregnant with our oldest--and 13 years later, the kids still enjoy this tradition. Finally, someone, usually me, reads the story of Christmas as written by the Apostle Luke.

Then the kids are off to bed to at least read until they fall asleep. My husband David and I finish any last minute gift wrapping and stuff the stockings. Now that they are older, there really aren't any toys to put together, and I find myself missing those years of blurry eyes and instructions that don't make sense.

Then my favorite part of Christmas Eve: turning off all the lights in the living room except the Christmas tree, curling up on the sofa with my husband (the best gift in the world), and just being. Just existing in the moment.