I have a confession to make.

Since my last post, I have not liked Christmas this year. I was very excited about it initially but life got in the way, and I slowly felt my Christmas spirit deflate. I still kinda feel that way, but I am fighting it.

It's probably not an exaggeration to call myself the Grinch.

Then yesterday morning I woke up from this amazing vivid dream of my maternal grandparents (another post for another day), and then the first thing that came to mind was the Christmas card I got from my aunt Betty Jean and uncle Tom. My aunt wrote about wonderful memories of Christmases spent at my grandparents (the same set I had a dream about) and then my mind went to STOCKINGS.

Why? Bear with me here.

(You don't want to navigate this brain. Trust me.)

Because my grandma made sure we all had stockings - and they hung on a wire over the fireplace. And there were A LOT of us. We would gather after Christmas, open up our stockings then get into tissue paper fights. Great memories.

And even after my grandma passed away, the family kept the tradition alive and each new member of the family through marriage or birth got a stocking. Even Mike has one :)

I wish I had a picture of it to share but I don't have one readily available.

And it dawned on me that we don't have stockings - not matching ones as a family of three, almost four. So today I made it my mission to find stockings at Hobby Lobby.

The selection was weak, and I got two that matched each other, and that was aggravating - but I purchased them (they were 50% off!) It was with a big smile on my face that I hung those stockings on the railing of our staircase. 

It felt good. 

A new tradition.