The "S" Word and Other Traditions

My Husbeastie is the love of my life.

I can say that right now, at this moment (and well, every moment for the past 8 years that I've known him) without any hesitation whatsoever.

My scruffy Nerf-herder-  Isn't he just adorable and cuddly looking?

My first husband... heck, even my first boyfriend- I was crazy about.  But, all those relationships are totally boring and pale next to how goofy I feel when I catch my Hubby looking at me.

Tonight, we got to discussing the upcoming holidays- which is like a two week long series of mini-festivals at our house- and I finally just had to ask, "Sweetie, why do you hate Christmas shows so much?"

He pointed out that a good chunk of the Christmas movies are about spoiled people who decide they're dissatisfied with their perfect life, try to do something stupid or selfish, then learn a "life lesson" and get exactly what they want in the end.  I thought about it... yeah.  He's right.

Turns out, my Hubby isn't too big on the holiday season in general.  I mean, we've made Thanksgiving our tradition, but the holidays after that are kind of dumb in his mind.  Now, by no stretch is my husband a Grinch.  He loves that the kids are so excited and filled with wonder during this time of year.  No, it's worse- my husband has no family traditions to bring to the table.  He feels very overwhelmed by the whole idea of the holidays.

My childhood, while incredibly poor and miserable for me, seem incredibly rich in comparison to my Husband's.  He's an only child.  I, on the other hand, am the baby of the family- a family I might add that my Mother was one of seven children- who all went on to have many many kids. So, while I might not have gotten a ton of toys or went out to fancy restaurants ever, I had the tradition of family and friends to spend the holidays with.

Then there's the "S" word.  Yes, folks, I'm talking about Santa.  I was allowed to believe in Santa as long as I wanted to.  (And I've never really stopped believing.)  Hubby was barely five when he became disillusioned.
He assures me that he's happy to have the kids believe as long as possible.

This takes me back, though, to our first Christmas together.  I remember how incredibly overwhelmed he was by my super-pregger nesting instinct taking over.  We didn't have a ton of money, but I decorated my little heart out.  I made him sit and watch White Christmas with me over and over again.  I sang at the top of my lungs.
Then Christmas morning came and he had no clue why there was a stocking filled for him. 

"Santa came and left it for you!"
He sat there kind of puzzled before looking through the loot.
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Poor Husbeastie- I know traditions are not something he's used to.
But, he's a good sport about the traditions we've forged for our family: wearing PJs and watching Polar Express, eating Jambalaya on Christmas Eve, leaving an empty chair at the dining room table to welcome any unexpected visitors... the apple and orange that are always in the toe of the stocking.
He even helps me put up the tree.  Sometimes.