I don’t write much about my holiday memories. They are simply too personal, whether positive or negative. So, I write about Grandma Ina instead, based on her letters to my dad. It’s historically interesting for me and I’m not emotionally invested in what happened in those years that don’t include me.
Hallie’s comment on a previous post reminded me of how difficult Christmas was when I was the mother of young children. Christmas 1979, Milo was just turning two and Clinton was two months. I had volunteered to bring peanut butter fudge to the Christmas Eve gathering at the family home. The recipe is simple:
Peanut Butter Fudge
Semi-sweet
chocolate morsels (one package)
Butterscotch
morsel (one package)
1
cup creamy peanut butter
1
cup peanuts
1 10-oz. package of mini-marshmallows
Melt
the morsels and peanut butter in the microwave. Stir in peanuts and marshmallows
and spread in a buttered 9x13 pan. Allow to set in the refrigerator for half an
hour. Voila!
So, you see, anyone can make that tasty, melt-in-your-mouth fudge in five minutes, but I couldn’t find that five minutes. Clinton had a bad day. The only time he wasn’t crying was when I held him, but I could tell he was uncomfortable. And of course, the two-year-old still needed my attention, too. And I had to pack for the overnighter at the family home. Bottom line: I failed to make that super-simple fudge.
Arriving at the Christmas Eve party that evening, I fessed up to my mother that I hadn’t made the fudge. “Vance, Vance,” she called to my dad. “Kathy didn’t make the fudge,” whereupon, my dad set to work to make Fantasy Fudge when he really had more important things to do. I felt so small. It’s not like they didn’t have a plethora of goodies, but I had certainly misjudged how important that plate of fudge would be.
I drew a number of lessons from that simple failing that helped to shape the kind of Christmas we have today. Be flexible. Keep it simple. Nothing matters but that we’re together. KW
2 comments:
Mmm, those do sound good! Is it a whole package of mini marshmallows? When we have toddlers and new ones, getting through the day is the goal and I can remember being so tired after the kids went to bed that Dan would tell me to just go to bed. I would tell him that I couldn't because then it would be morning again and I'd have to do it all over again. I just needed some down time, no matter how tired I was. As they say, long days but short years.
Ha! I couldn't remember the marshmallow amount, so I looked it up. Yes, one of those smaller bags. This recipe was on one of the sheets we received when we went to the microwave classes.
Yes, I remember those days, too. And to tell you the truth, I take comfort in the fact that they are over and that nothing can take away those memories. I needed down time, too, and as they got older, my young 'uns complained that I had them in bed by 8:00. Mother said that she did a lot of things better than I did, but I was better at putting my kids to bed.
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