I - Christmas in New Hampshire 2009

Oh my goodness. Christmas 2009 was the best ever -- at least of my adult life and our life of Christmas-with-kids (as opposed to Christmas-as-kids --- in our family, according to my mother, the Matriarch, you get a stocking until you have kids yourself-- and thus, you experience Christmas-as-a-kid until you begin to experience, first-hand, Christmas-with-kids). I gotta say, both are magical in their own right. But I, for one, am definitely a huge fan of Christmas-with-kids. I can honestly say that this was a magical, wonder-filled, as-good-as-it-gets-Christmas. So much so, in fact, that I am self-conscious to post about it for fear of what people will think ("oh, she's gotta be delusional" or "she's making this stuff up" or "screw her and her Norman-Rockwell blog" or worse). I've decided to write these Christmas posts as if 1,000 people aren't reading this everyday (sidenote: I still am stunned every time I look at our blog meter and see that 1,000 people are reading this). I'm going to write as if this is just a journal for my three children and Braydon and me. I'm going to write this to reflect the Christmas that it was -- despite my trepidation of 'audience.' For the past few days I've been thinking about something that a friend of ours, another adoptive mom of Haitian sensations, wrote on her blog recently. She wrote: "So if it seems like I write with rose-colored glasses, it's because I am blessed to be living a rose-colored life." I too, am living a "rose-colored life." At least that is how I see it. We can, I believe, to some extent, choose how we view the world. We can choose the lens through which we see our lives. And I choose to, and naturally do, see the best in things and people. Having said that, still, I must admit, even I am often breathless for a moment in thinking what a charmed life we are living. And times like the past two weeks are big reminders of all that we have to be grateful for. I live a great and grateful life. Without further ado... here is... a glimpse of Christmas 2009... in snippets and snapshots.

The boys' last day of school was Friday the 18th. We had quite a whirlwind few weeks leading up to that, and I was out-straight and burning the candle at both ends to make everything happen. But on Saturday morning the 19th, we set sail for our holiday. We hit the road, just ahead of a big storm, and we made it in record time. It took us only 8.5 hours to get to Portland, Maine. Where we checked into a lovely hotel and immediately headed to the indoor swimming pool. We spent a great family night in Portland before kicking off our Christmas on Sunday with the beloved Johnson tradition of the Portland Symphony Orchestra's Magic of Christmas concert. We joined up with my parents, our dear family friend Alice, and my sister's family at a stupendous Portland chowder house before heading to Symphony Hall. This concert has been running every Christmas for 30 years. And we have been to 29 of the 30! I started going when I was seven years old! Braydon started going when he was 22! Kyle and Owen have gone for all but their first Christmas (when they were infants, in Haiti still). Meera's already gone twice now. It is tradition. And tradition, at the root of it, is what our Christmas is all about. So far, for Meera only, it is tradition to fall asleep during the Magic of Christmas in Portland. This year MorMor was the lucky one to have the precious sleeping babe in her arms for most of the concert.

Here we are (below) in Portland after the concert. Three generations valuing the tradition that it is. Meera was, I must admit, beyond adorable in her Christmas attire. How much do I love dressing my baby girl??? What a gift this girl is to me and her grandmother. And what a gift this girl's grandmother is to me.

 

 We left Portland and headed for New Hampshire. Within just an hour of our arrival in Freedom, at MorMor and MorFar's house, MorMor unveiled the 2009 Christmas Cookies. Tin after tin after tin. She spent an entire 8-hour-day making over 9 different kinds of cookies (multiple batches of each) this year. Her kids and her grand-kids all have their favorites, of course. But these are all traditional cookies which have varied very little over the years of my life.

Many of the cookies are Swedish, of course, and it is tradition -- at least for MorFar -- to break out the whipped cream to eat with the pepperkaker. Pepperkaker is good. But with whipped cream, some say, it is great. Here are K & O, following tradition.

Lots of traditions, big and small. A specific concert every year for 30 years and a specific type of dried toast to dunk in your coffee every Christmas of your entire life (and your parents' and their parents' lives). What is the difference? It is something I've been thinking about a lot in the past days. Traditions are traditions. Big and small. Huge and tiny. They are the glue that holds it all together. It is precious and it is important. And it is profound when you think of passing them all along. Here is our Little Miss Meera eating her first (of many, for sure) cinnamon-sugar-rusk.

Oh, how I love those rusks at Christmastime. Dunked in hot black coffee. Is it the rusks and coffee, or is it the specific bakery where my parents always buy them (hours away from their home), or is it that it is Christmas, or is it that I'm standing there, in the kitchen, doing the exact same thing as my dad - almost in unison - as we have for so many mornings during Christmas week? Rusks-- a major, tiny, Christmas tradition.

There is a theme here. Traditional foods. Traditional Swedish foods. Traditional Swedish Christmas foods. And drink. Like Glug. This is Glug with a twist -- served by MorFar, outside, on a picnic table in the snow, on Christmas Eve Day.

But the biggest Swedish Christmas food tradition of all? --The Christmas Eve Smorgasbord. My mother is a force to be reckoned with. She is the one who makes it all happen. And the smorgasbord symbolizes it all. Foods that she ate, and we ate, and now our kids eat, every Christmas Eve every year, with no exception, ever.

 Important notes re: smorgasbord 2009 -- Braydon finally loves gravlax! And Owen loves fish pudding, just like his mother!!!

And then there are the butterhorns on Christmas morning. Fresh from the oven, with the sugar glaze still dripping. Dough that was been rising by the woodstove overnight. I love this photo below. Amidst opening presents, Kyle (prompted by MorMor) suddenly appears bearing the first tray of butterhorns, and Owen bolts upright to run to the tray! (I love it too because Meera is playing with her favorite gift: a gift from Owen that she's played with for long chunks of time every day since).

But Owen's treasured edible tradition of choice this year turned out to be that box of fine Swedish chocolates he discovered the first day. And by the last day, it was entirely gone. And the rest of us had eaten only a handful, total, from that two-layered box. 

Kyle says his favorite treasured edible tradition of choice this year was the hot dogs that he roasted over the fire on Christmas Eve Day. This is a new tradition, only a couple of years old. But it is set for the long haul, of that I am sure. Because Kyle will never let us not do it. Hot dogs, roasted on sticks, out in the snow, on Christmas Eve Day. That's one of the most amazing parts of all of this whole Christmas thing for us-- some of the traditions have been passed down for 3, 4, 5, or even more generations. And others are just getting started now. It is a joyful, evolving thing. Not a stagnant, bland thing.

 Interestingly, speaking of new traditions, I'm pretty sure that Meera's favorite treasured edible tradition of choice this year was the wood-fired pizza at Flatbreads in North Conway. She's a modern girl, what can we say?!

 

Traditions... old and new... they are the glue.

II - Christmas in New Hampshire 2009

Christmas Eve Day

The traditions -- old and new -- go far beyond food. Skiing on the days leading up to Christmas is a new tradition. For the four of us J-M's who ski (Meera will learn when she's three, but until then is off the slopes), it is a highlight. For K & O, it is the highlight. Our boys look forward to this all year. And even now, two weeks later, they are still standing firm that the "high" of the entire holiday was "skiing!!!" I think it might be their favorite thing to do in all the world. Seriously. They love it. And they are pretty dang good (especially for five year olds who only ski once a year). This was their third year skiing. They got right up, and bombed it down the hill on their first run. We were skiing -- like, full-on all-out the-four-of-us-skiing -- together and loving it. Braydon and I are so proud that we have taught our boys to ski. The first day we skied just the four of us (thanks to MorMor and MorFar for keeping Meera at home all day). The second day everyone joined us and it was 9 of us skiing together (us four, MorMor, MorFar, Sadie, Stina, Mark). It was a dream come true for my mom. And the truth is: it was dreamy. Even Meera loved it (she spent the afternoon toodling around the lodge with various chaperons who took turns hanging out with her and drinking hot chocolate).

Not so dreamy was the reality that on our first day skiing, Owen broke his collar bone. Yes, you read that right. He broke his collar bone skiing. Here he is (below) in the Ski Patrol Clinic at the lodge. Not a tradition we plan on keeping. More about our baby's broken bone in a post below.

Back to traditions that we like and want to keep... tubing at King Pine. Love it! The boys, especially love it! Here's Owen, loving every second of it. (even with a broken collar bone.)

And this year -- a magical gift was received by us -- solid frozen lakes clear of snow. We skated every day that we didn't ski. It was magical, and memorable, to say the least.

Candle-light Christmas Eve Service. A tradition passed down through the ages. A tradition we keep. We are blessed to have this as the place where we go on Christmas Eve:

 

Like I said, I am self-conscious of the loveliness of it. But, as Braydon reminds me (because he still reels from the wonderousness of it all, each and every year), "it is real." It is very, very real.

This year was a year to remember in regards to The Pageant. Of course, the J-Ms are sort of famous (infamous?) in Freedom for our "performances" in the Christmas Eve Pageant (most memorable of which, was, for sure, the year K & O were 2 years old). People tell us outright that they come on Christmas Eve in Freedom "to see what our kids will do this year" (???!!!?). Not sure how to feel about that... but... it is what it is. And, in keeping with tradition, this year the J-M children did not disappoint in making a huge show of it. It was "The Debut of the Littlest Angel" (i.e., Meera). MorMor saw it fit that Meera, at age 18 months, should be in the pageant this year. I personally would never have in a million years thought to put her in an angel costume and send her up there. But, alas, she loved every second of it, and so did her large audience. She stole the show (along with her brothers, whose precociousness never fails, and whose protectiveness for their baby sister is unyielding). She (and "bunny," her lovey) had to be pulled off the stage more than once for simply being too cute (seriously) and not letting the minister get on with the Christmas Eve regalia. I can't do it justice in words. I will have to look for it on YouTube one of these days, since a couple of different people in church that night told us that they had captured it with the camcorders. Anyway, it was, for lack of a better word, adorable. If you click on this photo to enlarge it you can see Meera Angel standing next to Kyle Angel on the left. Owen and Sadie are the two sheep to the right.

Another way that this year was a year to remember: The Christmas that Stina and Mark were engaged! Auntie Stina is getting married!!! Cheers!

And cousin Sadie is getting a great guy in her life. I have to say, in all honesty, we love Mark. He seems to fit perfectly with our family. And there is no denying that this threesome (skating on Christmas Eve afternoon) is very, very cute!

Moving onward with traditions... Santa's arrival on Christmas Eve afternoon. And yes, again, this year, he dropped off exactly, precisely what each kid had asked for. The look on Kyle's face = priceless and precious. "Yes! He came!!! And he brought a snowboard!!!! A red snowboard!!!!!"

And the snowboards were immediately put to good use. And they were "PERFECT!!!!!!" And Meera got the "underwater baby" / "baby doll that can go in the bath" that her brothers asked Santa for on her behalf.

Another tradition: trying to get that perfect photo of the cousins in front of the tree on Christmas Eve. We tried. Here is the best we could do:

 

Santa brings that one special gift on Christmas Eve afternoon. And then, while we are sleeping, he fills the stockings. And then, up the chimney he goes! The presents under the tree are our presents to and from one another. One gift per person from each person. It is simple and pretty minimal (by choice), but still, it adds up to be a very magical sight to behold!

And the gifts are substantial!!! K & O wanted only one thing this year (in addition to the snowboards from Santa)... "football outfits"... and their MorMor and MorFar pulled through big time!!!!!!!!!!! Talk about making dreams come true. Can you imagine the delight of having a MorMor and MorFar who, literally, make your wildest dreams come true? These boys have it.

Do these boys know how lucky they are? Yes, actually, they do. They know. And they are truly grateful. And they do let it be known in their own ways. Like, when Kyle, on Christmas morning, asked MorMor to go with him back upstairs (where he had already been for a time) so that she could "see him in the mirror!" He is a football star! 

And another tradition: getting special gifts -- gifts that we didn't even know we wanted -- from the people we love. Here's Meera with her new favorite thing on earth: her "kitchen" from MorMor and MorFar. With dishes from Auntie Stina.

And here are the three older cousins, the day after Christmas. All knitting with treasures found in their stockings. A rare, beautiful, sunlight sweet moment of calm and quiet.

Christmas 2009 was filled with active adventure, snow, ice, love, giving, receiving, and the wondrous magic that can only happen when everyone puts their heart and soul into it. What a blessing!

III - Skiing and Skating and Tubing Oh My!

 

 

 

(for a larger view of this collage, click here)

IV - Owen's Broken Collar Bone

(Written by Braydon)

We've always known and have often said that both our boys have an absurdly high tolerance for pain.  On more than one occasion we've found a blood trail in the house leading to one of our kids who had cut their toe or shin or something, only to find them playing happily as though nothing had ever happened.  Or we've seen many a crash on a bike or scooter or toy that would toppled pretty much anyone, but they bounce up with a laugh and keep going.  They are not immune to pain by any stretch of the imagination, and are also acutely sensitive to touch and feeling, but they can tolerate a lot of pain. Don't know why.

So, we've discovered we're a family that loves to ski together.  We took the boys when they were 3.5 and 4.5 and now at 5.5.  This year, like last, we went skiing before Christmas when the lines are short and the mountain has 2 for 1 deals going on - and it's wonderful.

We started on the bunny slope and way beyond what we expected, the boys picked up where they left off last year.  Both K & O grabbed the tow rope and up they went.  No poles of course, but right on up.  And then right down, with a little snow plow and a little turning.  A few of these little practice runs and we were off to the rest of the mountain.

We were not planning it this way, but I skied with Kyle and Heather skied with Owen. We got to the top of the lift and dumped out onto our favorite run from last year - a nice easy green trail.  I followed Kyle, who, turns out, is a total speed demon, adrenaline junkie.  He took off, blasting down the mountain.  Now, I am a pretty aggressive skier, but he was bombing fast even for me.  We went past a little tree'd area that I liked to ski through last year and flew to the bottom. Totally crazy.

Kyle and I got to the lift and waited for H and Owen.  And waited, and waited and waited. Until I started to get very worried, and despite my best efforts to both hide it from him and also assure him, so did Kyle.  So we took the lift back up. I imagined that Heather had a terrible accident.  It did not occur to me it might be Owen.

When we got to the run, we saw Heather sitting on the snow holding Owen.  A ski patrol passed me and Kyle and asked if that was them.  I didn't know what he meant, but seeing it was not normal, sent him right there.  When we got there, Heather had our boy cradled in her arms, he was not moving.  I was freaking out. But when Kyle and I clicked out and got close, we could see Owen was awake and ok - just very still and in a lot of pain.  Thank goodness he had his helmet on.  He rode the ski patrol sled down like a champ, with me and Kyle flying down behind and Heather going down too.  We headed to the ski patrol room where they carried him in for an exam.  Later Owen told me that he wanted to ski down between the trees like Papi had done last year.  Cutie pie.  Unfortunately, it was all crusty ice this year and he slammed down very very hard.

In the ski patrol room, they wanted to cut his new turtle neck shirt off, but Heather managed to get him out of it.  They articulated his left arm to gauge his reaction to it and determine how hurt it was.  He was able to move it forward and back and all around and they declared that no matter how high his pain tolerance, that if it was broken he would have screamed bloody murder.  Which he did not.  It was hurting, but not broken.

After a little recovery and an attempt at some hot chocolate, we went back out skiing again to make sure he was not too afraid and we had a great rest of the day.  Owen was a bit more tentative, but had a lot of fun.  Then we did it again the next day and also had a great time.  Owen was again more caution, but that's not really all that unusual for him.  Kyle bombed down the mountain.  People commented that if he lived in NH they would have him on the junior ski team.

Over the next few days O favored his hurt shoulder and we gave him motrin regularly for it.  But generally he was himself and just seemed ok to play and move around.  We went ice skating and at one point we did a long chain of 6 or so of us with Owen in the middle all holding hands and swinging around.

When we got home, his shoulder was still hurting him.  We were going to make an appointment with our family doctor, but they said we should just go up to urgent care.  Since that was like the emergency room, but with a 3 hour wait, we made an appointment with our local Chiropractor for the next day.  But that night Owen woke up with a lot of pain.

Heather and I examined him and noticed a bump along his collar bone that we had not seen before.  He was still really hurting so we decided I should take him to the emergency room - which I did. It was 11 PM.

The ER doc examined him, articulated his arm, up down, back front, pushing pulling and trying to see if it hurt.  Owen said it did, this and that hurt, and mostly when the doc pushed on the bone with his thumb, but nothing dramatic.  So the doc decided that he should get an x-ray to find out what was up.

Broken collar bone. Clear as day on the x-ray.  Bent now, not curved.  Starting to knit together, but with a little bump.  Broken.  Our 5.5 year old had a broken collar bone. For 8 days.  

We're taking him to the orthopedic surgeon tomorrow for a review.  The ER doc both assured us that he was going to be fine and that he would have full range of motion with no limitations.  But that we should have the orthopedic group look at him.  So we are.

Unbelievable in so many ways on so many levels.  But I guess maybe that is just our boy.

Note:  the photo above was taken in MorMor and MorFar's back yard on Christmas Eve Day. Yes, his collar bone was broken at that time. 

V - Flicka Stuga at Christmas

Over the rivers (the Delaware, the Hudson, and several others)

And through the woods --and cities (of New York, Hartford, Boston, etc.)

To grandmother's house Flicka Stuga we go

[note: MorMor & MorFar's house was named, by them, when they built it, "Flicka Stuga," the Swedish for "Girl's House"... and it is aptly named]

Papi knows the way to drive the five

 Through the white and drifted snow, oh!

Over the river and through the wood

Oh how much work it takes --

To prep, and plan, and shop, and scam to create the Ho Ho Ho!

But, over the river and through the wood

Is the least that we can do --

{and this is where the emotions kick in and the whole lyric/rhyming thing starts to break down...}

For what we do is absolutely menial in comparison to what MorMor and MorFar do...

My parents. They love Christmas. They bring magic to the word magic. And they share it. But, the thing is, it isn't actually magic. It takes thought, time, energy, money, and most of all -- hearts of gold -- to make it all happen. My parents. They are, truly, an inspiration. I am learning from them. All that I can hope is that I will be able to carry it on for my children as my parents have done for me. The details are endless. Everywhere you look, every moment of each day spent, you see and feel what they have done to make Christmas Christmas. It is all meaningful. And for five people with the last name "Johnson-McCormick," it is all deeply appreciated.

Over the river and through the wood

to Flicka Stuga we go

Who knows what each day or year may bring?

So we savor these memories so.

Thank you Mom and Dad!

(and really, let's be honest-- MorFar is truly awesome, but MorMor is the Mastermind --- so, Mom, thanks especially to you at Christmastime. You are, for real, the best of the best.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Christmas Card Photo 2009

Holiday Break

Will post soon about our many adventures of the past days ~

but, for now, we are thoroughly enjoying the holiday break;

trying to savor it in the moment;

without interruption for blog or otherwise;

knowing that it is a sweet fleeting time for indulging in the here and now.

For those of you checking in on us---

A Very Happy New Year!

Our Christmas Season the Year You Were 5 & 1

My Dearest Ones,
Starting December 1 our Christmas Season begins. We woke up that morning and all ran downstairs in our pajamas to listen to Amy Grant's 'Tennessee Christmas' in the dull light of early morning. This is our tradition and it jump-starts many others. That song is about the beauty of being right where you want to be for Christmas. With you three is right where I want to be. You fill the season with magic. I can't imagine a better Christmas Season than the year you three were five and one; I know I say it every year, but it is absolutely true every year; I really cannot imagine it getting any better. Kyle and Owen-- you believe; you two are true believers in every sense. And this year was so special as you lead the way in teaching your baby sister all that there is to know about this season. Since she has always had some kind of problem with men with facial hair (?!), we were anticipating the worst for her first encounter with Santa. We were all surprised when she wasn't afraid and instead walked right up to the jolly man in red and proceeded to smile and give him kisses. Of course, in retrospect it shouldn't have been surprising-- she was toddling along, following, just two steps behind her big brothers, who were high-fiving and launching in to a full-blown Q & A session with Mr. Claus. "How do you get down the chimney? How do you make your reindeer fly? How do you know if kids have been good?" They were extremely relieved to be assured that they didn't need to have been 'perfect' this year ("nobody's perfect!"), but rather that they just need to have been 'good most of the time.' Owen, in particular, reminded us of that on numerous occasions ("It is ok if we're not perfect! Nobody's perfect!"). Yes, we assured you both, it is true-- nobody's perfect, and you were good most of the time. The truth is that you are good the vast majority of the time (although I'm the first to admit you drove my crazy the other minority of the time). One thing that didn't drive me crazy this year -- for the first time in five years -- was putting up the Christmas Tree! We were smart and proactive this year (why weren't we all those other years?). We put Meera to bed early and Kyle and Owen got to 'stay up late' to decorate the tree. But this year we started a new tradition of having the tree up and ready the night before (Papi did it while you were sleeping), so that everything was set to just decorate -- and thus, allow us to just enjoy the fun part (minus the wrestling the tree up and the bickering-over-positioning-of-limbs-and-lights parts). We drank eggnog (you love it this year!!!) and truly relished in every ornament of that tree-decorating-night. You have your favorites, of course, but each of those ornaments holds meaning for us. And our tree is thus, of course, the most beautiful in the whole wide world. Meera has enjoyed pulling certain ornaments off of it repeatedly (ornaments that we placed way down low specifically for her). And we've all enjoyed pulling candy canes off from time to time. Jesus is, again, a huge theme this year -- particularly for Kyle (our resident Theologian). Kyle doesn't let us forget -- not for a minute -- that this whole Christmas 'thing' is actually to celebrate when Jesus was born. While Owen has a million questions about Santa, Kyle has a million about The Christmas Story. And stories we have. You love reading Christmas books at bedtime during the month of December. And oh, how nice it has been for Papi and I to have a break from The Berenstein Bears!!! You savor those Christmas books and just pour over them as you minds dance and your imaginations fly. Our house is warm. Our spirits are bright. There is a lot that is special. It is all as it should be for precious young children during this season. And that, my Dearest Ones, is the true gift that we strive to give you each year. What we get in return is the greatest gift of all.
Love, Your Mama