On the Saturday before Christmas Day my Dad’s people get together in, yes, a barn, to celebrate Christmas. This year we had eighty people there. EIGHTY. Er…wait. Okay, actually it was 79 1/2. We did have eighty stockings though. It was great.
Here’s what my Dad’s family does well: have meaningful celebrations, create and maintain traditions, and genuinely enjoy spending time together.
Here’s what they don’t do well: handle conflict and realize the need to change the dang date of this here celebration.
And yet, barn christmas is still fun (just less fun then it would be if it was the second Saturday before Christmas.)
So…Christmas in the barn. I blogged about it a couple years ago.
Here’s what you need to know: There are babies. Lots of babies.
And look Billy! They sleep all the time! We should totally get one!
See! He’s sleeping!
“Step away from that baby, woman!”
Wilson Christmas is actually considerably easier than it used to be. We have a ton of kids that are all the same age and when they were toddlers is was…um…problematic.
But now this crew is clearly less trouble than they used to be.
Although, now that I think about it, that one on the right looks downright mischievous. Hmmm, I watching you kid!
Did I mention the babies?
EAT
ALL
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!
I know Christmas is supposed to be all peace and tranquility.
But usually it feels more like this:
A big ole blur.
A big ole barn blur.
Happy Christmas all!