Journal to a Muse

A Merry Christmas Was Had by All

Christmas, whether pagan, secular or religious seems destined to become barnacled with layers and layers of traditions. One of mine has been the making of a Jolly Breakfast Ring. This originated some fifty years ago from a Betty Crocker Cookbook for Children.

















It involved Bisquik, melted butter, maraschino cherries and walnuts.. As an eaily duped only child, it was my honor to make this for my parents every Christmas Morning.. from the time I could reach the counter tops.

The first year that my children and DH (to whom I'd only recently been married) celebrated Christmas together, I again made the Jully Breakfast Ring. Only I forgot that it should be turned out while still warm or the sugars and butter would cement it to the bundt pan. I had a personal melt down while trying to chisel the now toffee hard topping away from an allegedly non-stick surface.

The irony of "jolly" compared to "Mom" on Christmas was not lost on the children or DH.

But I will have the last word! Paula Deen has not let me down. (EVER... check her out!!)
Her Gorilla Bread has taken the cake. (She says it kicks Monkey Bread's ass... And she is right. ) Sadly, dear daughter and dear son were elsewhere this Christmas, but boy, will they be impressed when they get a taste of this.

Apparently Mom (yours truly) has had several melt downs over the years. (DD and DS let on recently that they had a competition about who could make Mom get teary-eyed first. DD often wins. She 'gets' me and is the perfectest daughter you could ever want.

DH pointed out another incident --probably the same "first" Christmas together with the nearly grown kids, when my need for perfection, control and specific outcomes was unrealistically high.
We had tickets for a Wind Symphony Concert at the main Concert Hall downtown. The plan was to have dinner at home, get dressed up and listen to brassy fanfares then drive by the "big houses" that were all lit up, and perhaps stop for Irish Coffee or something.

DS arrived at my house from his Dad's house with his "dress up clothes" as requested. Suit jacket, shirt, tie (!), and pants. And only sneakers. Ssneakers only! It is reported that this sent me into a ballistic frenzy of recriminations and criticisms-- As if he'd done this solely to thwart my expectations. Nobody could calm me down. DS announced, as only he can, that he wouldn't go to the concert. DH tells me that I did not immediately apologize for my ire, that I didn't not way anything like, YOU are more important than your shoes, but that instead DS retreated to his cave and wept. I know I was crying, but it hurts me now to think that I made my own son weep at Christmas.
WHAT WAS I THINKING?













The true meaning of Christmas and love and family apparently has to do with "the right shoes."
NOT.

DH saved the day by giving the keys to his truck to DS, suggesting he stop by his Dad's house to get alternate footwear, and meet us at the concert hall. He got there before the maestro raised his baton. We actually enjoyed the concert.
The amazing courage of DH letting DS drive HIS truck (remember, they'd not lived together more than 3 months at this time) and the courage, humility, and character of DS to set aside or push through his feelings were a gift I've only just understood. That's the kind of guys that are in my life now. I am so fortunate.

I am sorry I was so selfish that year... so short-sighted, so short tempered. I am so grateful that DS forgave me. He called me this morning from out of state where he is celebrating the season with his girl-friend and her family. After the debacles of the Jolly Breakfast Ring, the Wind Symphony Shoe fiasco, he still has a big enough heart to say that he misses me. Now is that a warm Christmas message, or what?

Oh, and finally,
Here are the "after" images. DH amidst the cast off wrappings. (He didn't figure out that the scarf was for him!! He likes it! It IS really really soft.)













And DH as Santa... taking the trash out.


Life is good.
And I will be making Resolutions this year.