Rockin’ around the Christmas tree

Now that you are retired, does your holiday schedule allow travel time to see children and grandchildren, or do they come to visit you?

Every year since my children got married, our celebrations have been different and have required me to let go of expectations. And now that there are grandchildren, it seems as though I either win the lottery or hang my head and hope for next year.

After the birth of our first child in 1982, we traveled by car from Washington, D.C., to Cincinnati with our 3-month-old to visit my husband’s family. A new tradition for me! Upon arrival, she began wailing and I recall her being jostled between a half dozen relatives who all thought they had the magic touch to put her to sleep. I couldn’t console her, and she couldn’t console me.

What I recall about those Christmases in years since, is how hard my in-laws worked to make everyone feel welcome. New L.L. Bean pajamas on the bed, stockings hung for all. Fresh grapefruits sectioned and served in goblets with a maraschino cherry on top!

I can see my father-in-law’s face in the kitchen as he surveyed the mountain of greasy pots and pans from yet another full course meal that Edna prepared, and her notes on the counter about the time each dish went into the oven. Turkey the first night followed by roast beef, then ham, and finally Swiss Knoepfle, Cousin Tricia’s favorite. Always green beans from the garden and homemade rolls, cranberry salad and at least 10 different kinds of cookies presented on grand china platters.

Edna went to bed at 7:30 because she was exhausted, while the rest of us played euchre in the basement. I miss those card games with my husband’s family - I especially miss Uncle Ray, who pretended he didn’t like kids but surprised our children with their first Nintendo set.

This year I won the lottery. My children, their spouses and my two granddaughters are coming as well as countless aunts, uncles, nieces and nephews who want to share the joy and the chaos. This will be a new experience for my daughters-in-law now, and I hope they feel welcome. Somehow my husband and I grew old and have become his parents. Now we get to plan the menu and figure out which bedroom fits the pack and play.

We saved the 1930s mahogany high chair in the attic used for both children, acquired a baby gate, bought a spill-proof sippy cup, and hung all unbreakable ornaments on the lower boughs of the tree.

Now to let go of unrealistic expectations. I have casseroles in the freezer, asked people to bring side dishes, preordered pies and will not feel ashamed to order pizza.

Babies and adults will likely cry at night. The coordinating Christmas pajamas may not fit, and the most adorable pictures will not be taken when anyone poses. I can go to bed at 7:30 just like Edna because my neighbors Sue and Pam have offered me keys to their houses.

What I loved about my mother-in-law Edna is that she would say, “Christmas is when you get here.” She became my role model. I don’t want to make my children feel guilty if they don’t come home for the holidays. It’s so tempting, isn’t it?

All I want is for my family to feel welcome. Maybe clear the table or help their father unload the dishwasher. My house will be a mess, but I can’t wait to see how awful it looks. Next year will likely bring a different scenario.

Write to lgraff1979@gmail.com.