A Lack of Tradition

Shine is having this “become a mom guru blogger” contest thingie and I thought for a second about throwing in my two cents.  I am a mother.  Sometimes people ask me for advice.  Why not?

“Write a blog post about one of your family traditions”.  I racked my brain and then collapsed from exhaustion.

We do a lot together, my terrors and I, but no traditions intentional or otherwise leap to mind.

I tried taking a picture of them with the same stuffed animal every year to chart their growth.  That died when the dog ate poor Dopey.

I used to buy them new PJ’s every year for Christmas Eve.  Now, however, they prefer to sleep in just their boxer briefs (which I have to say I prefer as well).

We all pile into my bed when the DH is out of town.  But I hate to think that my only family tradition excludes a very important member of my family.

The moral of this story, if you could consider this a story, is that we don’t really have any traditions.  I refuse to feel guilt.  I would rather have a rain barrel full of spontaneous memories anyway.

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