Jenny's Family Traditions

    Hello all! My first real post here is going to speak on my most fond personal experience with family tradition. As I mentioned in my introductory post, my parents got a divorce when I was seven years old. I am a "look on the bright side" kind of person, so the way I looked at it was I got to have twice the amount of traditions than everyone else because I had some with my mom and some with my dad. The tradition I'll be talking about in this post is the only one I can remember from before the divorce. My list of traditions stops short of lists I have made of my close friend's family traditions, but mine are special to me because they are just that : mine. 

    This tradition that sits near and dear to my heart surrounds Christmastime. Allow me to set the scene. I am six years old. Tomorrow is Christmas morning. I've been told that Santa will be coming to our house tonight while I sleep to drop off presents carefully selected for me. Even at six years old I had the highest of standards, I must have the purple build-a-bear. The pink one simply wouldn't do. The gifts from my parents sit under the tree, taunting me. Why should I have to wait until the morning to open them when they are sitting right there ready to be ripped into? My sister and I beg our parents to please let us open just one gift, and then we promise to go to bed without a fuss. Mom and dad look at each other and pretend to seriously discuss this proposition. After some careful, and make-belief, consideration, they agree. Of course it was their plan all along to give-in to our expected pleads, but nevertheless, my sister and I began to celebrate our win. 

    Mom selected two gifts from under the tree of the same size and shape and weight, because if we weren't given the exact same gift, we would surely fight over whichever one we thought was the prettier color or the more fun design. "One, two, THREE!" We count down together as we rip into the carefully wrapped gifts at the same time as to not ruin the surprise for the other sister. We simultaneously pull out a pair of matching night gowns. Huge gummy grins take over our faces as we race to see who can put on the pajamas faster. Being the younger sister, I revel in the fact that I look just like my older sister. We pose in front of the Christmas tree for mom to snap a picture, and the tradition is born : every year since then, my sister and I would wear matching Christmas pajamas on Christmas Eve.

Toran Christmas 2007

Toran Christmas 2008

    When I asked my mom to send me the photos pictured above, I was overwhelmed with the feeling of nostalgia despite not being able to recall those moments from memory. Even the story I told from the perspective of my six year old self came not from memory, but from my mother retelling the story from her memory. Regardless of remembering it or not, I know that I absolutely adored this tradition and that it was something I looked forward to every year. Of course, my sister and I are all grown up now and have spent the past 4 Christmases apart from one another. It is sad, but all good things must come to an end. I realize that this tradition of matching pajamas is nowhere near ground-breaking, in fact it is quite common as I have found several friends of mine who grew up doing same thing. But my sister and I have both agreed that, since we hold those "memories" so close, we will both be honoring the tradition my mom began and will do the same for our own children one day. If anyone reading this post had the same family tradition, I would love to see photos of your family's matching pajamas!