12 Days of Christmas: Christmas Morning Picture

Growing up, we had certain rules that we didn't even think about breaking.  One was coming downstairs before we were told on Christmas morning.  Believe me, we cried and whined, and complained plenty.  But we did not creep one inch down the stairs until we were called.

In our house, we always start with the gifts Santa brought and left under the tree, unwrapped and on display.  Then we opened our stockings, youngest to oldest.  During all this, we munched on muffins and hot cocoa (or coffee and tea for the adults).  Mama always had a casserole in the oven while we opened stockings, and we ate breakfast between stockings and opening the mountain of wrapped gifts (from family) under the tree.

So what did all that mean?  It meant that on Christmas morning, Big Brother and I had a deal that whoever woke up first would wake up the other.  Then we'd run into Mom and Dad's room, jump into bed with them shouting "Merry Christmas!" at the top of our lungs and ensure they got out of bed and not fall back asleep after grumbling that we were awake far too early!  We'd wait patiently at the top of the stairs while Dad made coffee, Mom got the muffins in the oven, and one of them turned on the Christmas lights and music.  This didn't change if we were at one set of grandparents' house or the other.  The rules were still the same.  Except that if a grandmother (or both of them) was present, we had to wait for her to go to the bathroom and get dressed too!  It was agonizing waiting even longer to see what Santa had brought!

Anyway, at the very last minute, before we'd get the ok to come downstairs, Dad would come up with the camera and the dog, try to get her to pose, and take a picture of all us kids at the top of the stairs.

And this tradition carried on well into my twenties...and yes, even after I was married!  In 2008, my husband and I were ushered to the top of the stairs when we arrived at Mom and Dad's Christmas morning.  The next year, Hubs was deployed and the house was full of guests, so my brothers spent the night at my house, and when we drove over in the morning we were once again directed to head upstairs without peeking under the tree!

The first time I didn't sit at the top of the stairs was last year, our first Christmas after Dad died...

But I couldn't let that tradition die with him.  So this year, we put Bunkey in the Bumbo for his picture.  Only he was hungry and grumpy and the pictures were awful.  So I fed him (without letting him see the tree and gifts that he couldn't understand) and then took him back to the the stairs for his picture.  He was much happier with a full tummy!