Of course, on the last Friday before Christmas, it has to be an ornament. This ornament is on our memory tree in the basement. When it first came out of its box, the conversation went like this:
A: Where is THIS picture taken?
M: In the house I grew up in, in Douglasville, Georgia.
A: WHAT??!
M: In the house I grew up in, in Douglasville, Georgia. (You get used to the broken record effect with a five-year old.)
A: Well, how'd I get THAY-ERE? (That's "there" for the non-Southernese.)
It's funny to me that Ansley thinks we look alike. I don't see it quite as much - I mean, sure, you can tell that we are mother and daughter, but not spittin' image of me. And there's always the fact that I am probably like seven years old in this picture, but I looked like I was five. The story of my life. Ansley won't have that problem.
This is also proof that I did have blonde hair, once. Naturally. Oh, and straight hair, once. (Ansley asked oh-so-sweetly yesterday if I knew that my hair was black underneath. Thanks, sweetie. And for the record, it's not black, just darker than the chemically altered hair on top.)
But look at those dark jeans. Ansley has a pair just like them. She doesn't have a shirt like that, though.
There is no date on this ornament, but I know I must be older, because I remember those clothes, and that rocking chair I am sitting in, and those bookshelves my Dad built in the background. I remember Christmases in this house - warm, cozy, family Christmases. I would always beg my Dad to get out the Christmas decorations the DAY after Thanksgiving. He would always oblige. And my Mom would always start playing Christmas music pretty early in the season (like mother, like daughter). I remember the ceramic Christmas trees my Grandma made with the little lights on them, the red plastic Santas that held candy, and our red stockings, and the pinecone wreath, and the little cross stitched ornaments. The highlight of any Christmas season for Jonathan and me was Present War. A game born no doubt from those seemingly endless childhood days leading up to Christmas, we concocted a fun game to pass the time. We would gather our presents and form a little wall, and then take turns pulling out a present, and whoever had the biggest present won. The object, of course, was to have the most presents.
And if you know Jonathan, then you know he always won because he cheated and took all my presents.
Oh, I kid. I'm sure he didn't take ALL of them, just enough to win the game.
Jonathan and I always made a schedule for Christmas Eve of what we would do at each hour, just so the day would go by faster! My Dad would always have to get up on Christmas morning (after Jonathan and I went in their room for the hundredth time, telling them it was time to get up!) and turn on the Christmas music, plus all the lights in the house before we could come downstairs. I do that with my own children as well. I wonder what memories they will have of their childhood Christmases?
I love this time of year - the remembering, the traditions, the family, the love.
Ansley counts down every day - FIVE MORE DAYS, MOMMY!
Christmas is upon us.
Oh, I see LOTS of you in Ansley. That picture is especially telling of your likeness! Wishing you a very Merry Christmas. I can't wait to hear all about it. :)
Posted by: Account Deleted | December 21, 2008 at 08:21 PM
I consider myself the ninja of present war!
Posted by: Jonathan | December 25, 2008 at 12:49 PM