I don’t think I am particularly unique.

I do not have a tree in my house, nor do we celebrate in any religious way. My child attends a Jewish preschool at a Synagogue. But Christmas is just the best. It’s CHRISTMAS!

I have gotten to experience true Christmas twice in my life:

The first was centered around my sister. On Christmas of 1987, I sat on Santa’s lap at Disneyland and asked for a baby sister. A week shy of one year later and I got my present. My sister was born and we had a baby nurse taking care of her that insisted my parents let us celebrate the holiday. So, one time, I woke up Christmas morning in my own house and crept downstairs to find presents in the fireplace.

That was nice.

Do you know what was not nice? The next year, when my parents refused to continue celebrating Christmas, which was not easy for a five year old to understand. Not that I’m bitter or anything.

My next Christmas was the best Christmas. It was everything that you could dream of when thinking of the enchantment of the holidays. I wrote once before about my Christmas memories when I spent the holidays with my former boyfriend’s family in the Mid Hudson River Valley of New York. Christmas Eve was spent with his entire mom’s family, eating Italian food and then attending mass. I got to return home to a house decked out beyond belief; lights, carolers, Poinsettias, the works. We woke up Christmas morning and all gathered around the tree. It was my boyfriend’s parents, his two brothers and the two of us. I still remember everything, despite the fact that that Christmas was now over ten years ago. I remember every gift I received, how I had my own, most beautiful April Cornell stocking, and how we spent the day feasting on Christmas brunch and napping and playing board games and enjoying family. I write about this so fondly because my boyfriend’s mother and I are still great friends. I am so lucky. It is not just that she is incredibly kind, endlessly warm and the best baker of Christmas cookies ever ever ever; she and I have always shared a special bond. In fact, she just sent me this photo from their Christmas this year, where the stuffed Santa moose I brought to them is still used and I am thought of fondly. I feel very blessed.

But, alas, I have accepted the fact that I married another Member of the Tribe, we are dedicated to our religion and no longer get to celebrate Christmas.

Or so I thought.

Because as I have learned this year, there is not one right way of doing things. And this year, I decided to celebrate. Jesus was not involved. But it was cozy and warm and about family; the one we have created for ourselves.

On Christmas Day, we celebrated with longstanding plans with our dear friends. The four kids wore matching, holiday-themed pajamas and the older kids built and decorated gingerbread houses and, yes, we ordered Chinese Takeout. We exchanged gifts; I gave the 3.5 year old boy a Sofia the First Karaoke machine. I am the best. We had holiday music playing and a fake fire roaring on our flat screen. And all we kept saying was how nice it was to have something so special to do on Christmas; how we want to make it our tradition. So now, I get to celebrate Christmas again. I have Christmas to look forward to.

On Saturday, my group of childhood friends and I had our Pollyanna Cookie Party. Lord bless them, as I started planning this before Thanksgiving and I must have sent at least 50 emails about it. I was enthusiastic, ok?

So, the idea to do a Pollyanna was a fun one, but there was one fairly large problem: How would we choose the names when we all live apart and would not be together until the 27th?

Here is what I came up with:

I wrote down all of our names and put them in a hat (there are 8 of us). I then wrote a list of each person on a separate pad of paper. Then, I  had my brother in law draw the names and write down who got whom. My brother in law then texted a photo of the list to my sister, who knows all of my friends. She then sent out secret emails to each of us telling us who our secret person would be. I mean…pretty amazing, right? And the coolest part was that we really kept it secret. My husband and I truly had no one idea whom the other had (and frankly, I was really surprised by his recipient, as I had guessed it was someone else!)

But more than just exchanging gifts and eating cookies (that had sea salt and bacon, thank you very much), we all piled on my living room rug as a family, a group that has stuck together through (many of us through elementary, middle and high school, and) this last year and bonded like never before. We have had countless dinners and dates and we even welcomed a whole new member into our tribe. I became an aunt.

The sentiment that echoed among all of the the guests at the cookie party was the same; we have to do this again next year. 

My friends are all very busy; they have important jobs and hectic lives; doctors, lawyers, government workers, bankers, business owners, sales reps, accountants…and a writer, who is just trying to get her little old site off of the ground using all of her might and all of her feathers. But the fact that we could take a few hours to all be together, celebrating nothing but ourselves, was my greatest gift.

So this year wasn’t presents in the fireplace,

nor was it a cozy morning around the tree,

but it was ours.

And I will hold it and cherish it and never let it go.

(Not even to my secret santa.)

The post That which is ours. appeared first on Mommy Ever After.

Up until last year, I experienced the winter holidays in nearly the same way every year for as long as I can remember:

Hanukkah was a time of many big family gatherings

(when you have a huge family that all lives locally, the pile of presents is pretty epic);

It was a time of latkes and blessings and rituals that were passed down from my grandparents to my parents and then to us.

And I think that somewhere, deep within my being, it got engrained in me that that was the way that things had to be.

Christmas was equally predictable; we would all see movies (sometimes together, sometimes separate; the most notable example being the time that my mom, sister and I saw “Little Women” while my dad saw “Pulp Fiction”, alone, in the theater next door.) We would often times do the stereotypical Chinese food dinner, other times my dad and I would cook a proper turkey feast, but it was always a big family event.

(Note: There were two Christmases, 1987 and 1988, where things varied a great deal, like with SANTA, but I will save that story for another time.)

And then last year happened. And I can say quite honestly, I have no idea what we did on Christmas day. Nor do I remember Hanukkah, which I think was around Thanksgiving.

The holidays were a blur of sadness. I did not revel in the joy of the season. I do not remember giving or receiving gifts or saying blessings, or really being thankful for anything. And I am sad for that and sorry for that, but that is my story.

And now my story has changed.

This year, I made a promise that I would do things differently. I would live richly.

I have made great plans for this holiday season, but have also savored the smallest of things, a sentiment that I never really understood fully until now.

Sometimes it takes the darkest of darkness to see the true brilliance of light.

This year, Hanukkah and Christmas almost overlapped, making it a true holiday season.

And instead of big family dinners with tons of presents, we did 7 out of 8 nights of Hanukkah as a family of four.

Each night we gave one gift. There was no pile of presents. We were trying to teach the meaning of gratitude to our fortunate children. When my daughter opened up the nineteen dollar blanket that has a hood that looks like a cat head and glows in the dark, the same blanket that she had seen on the TV and begged for, she could not have been more thrilled and has used it every day since.

There was true appreciation all around. There was appreciation for our fortune, there was appreciation for our presents, but, most of all, in all honestly, there was appreciation for our presence.

I mentioned that there was one night when we did not do Hanukkah alone, and that was because we had my grandparents (my kids’ great-grandparents) for dinner. My eyes are filling with tears as I type, and struggle to find the words.

We lit the candles and said the blessings, Mommom and I bouncing the baby, my daughter sitting on Poppop’s lap, and I could hear their voices together, one small girl’s and one old man’s, singing in unison.

And then, last night, we had Christmas Eve.

Again, it was the four of us, which was ever so special.

After a family dinner we lit a fire and roasted marshmallows.

To keep the old Jewish stereotype alive, I roasted MY marshmallow using a chopstick!

And then, this.

So, I think about the past.

I think about the words of the blessings we have sung.

    When our own strength failed us.

And I realize how far we’ve come.

Happy Holidays.

“May your days be merry and bright…”

and, from me to you,

may your load be a little more light.

The post The way we do (and how it’s new). appeared first on Mommy Ever After.

By the way, you must remember, I am the girl who has only had one set of business cards in her entire life…

and they were Betty Boop business cards I had personalized for me at FAO Schwartz that read, “Star of Stage and Screen”.

The fact that I have a whole team is extremely exciting and entirely humbling, to say the least.

I have spent the past four and a half years writing about nursing a toddler and nursing colds,

meeting milestones and making mischief and making mistakes–

and this next step–this leap of faith–has been huge.

In any case, we were discussing Mommy, Ever After and the new site and some real businessy things that are too businessy for me to even try to explain,

and then we ended the conversation with her saying, “Your voice is different in this “new” MEA. I can’t really put my finger on how, but it reads differently.”

And I think I get what she is saying. The fact is, Mommy, Ever After has evolved and morphed and shifted in ways I could have never predicted when I started writing. It used to be more of a daily diary, with tidbits about my goings-on and the chronicles of new parenthood.

It was my baby book.

Once I started developing an audience, I wrote more in depth posts, serializing stories like how my husband and I met, how we got engaged, my birth story, etc.

I talked about tutus and dance parties and sparkly shoes. I talked about some more poignant things, like my lost loved ones and how that has given me my thing for feathers. But, one thing that hasn’t changed is that I have always been really honest. I have called myself out for being crazy, I have talked about my weaknesses and fears, I have asked for help.

Because I have always wanted to help. I wanted people, women or men, parents or teens or grandparents, to be able to read a post and say, “I am not alone.”

That was when Mommy, Ever After was “A Happy Story”.

And then my life took an unexpected turn. “A Hard Story”.

And as I slowly climb back up, step by step, day by day, sometimes minute by minute, I do feel like I am living “A Hopeful Story”. Because I refuse to give up.

In any case, the conversation with my manager inspired me to tell you a little bit about what you can expect, in just the coming week, as we all get acclimated to our new home here.

(By the way, I hope you like our new digs. If you get the chance and have not already, check it out from a computer. There is so much more to see in a less condensed way.)

So this week I will be:

Giving a tour of the site, so that you can see all of the new features I have to offer. I will guide you to the best places that will meet your needs and you will learn how to use all of the new buttons and categories and columns most effectively.

Posting the sequel to my old post about music; because since I published that post years ago, I have been lucky enough to become the lead singer of an amazing band, Fox & the Hounds. It has changed my life for the better (and for good).

Sharing a behind-the-scenes look at an amazing skincare line, as you learn everything you have ever wanted to know about how to reveal your most beautiful self. And not just outer beauty; these ladies are all about supporting one another, encouraging true teamwork and being positive cheerleaders for friends, colleagues and life.

Exploring the world of anxiety, which is an affliction that so many people face, but so few actually verbalize.

Reflecting on my recent Hanukkah experience and all of it’s firsts.

Telling the stories of our fun holiday happenings with The Tribe.

And just being the Me(a) that I have always been; forever candid, sometimes cray cray, occasionally humorous and ever so grateful.

So settle in, find a cozy spot and stick around.

The best is yet to be.

The post What is in store? Ever so much more. appeared first on Mommy Ever After.