Christmas at Gunga's

First of all, have we discussed the fact that all her grandchildren call my mother Gunga? I am already thinking of options for my grandkids to call me. Cute options. Options that will not embarrass anyone when we are out in public. Like Grammy. Mimi. Nana. Or Kooky. I'll probably end up with the last one. It fits.

Christmas with our "big family" at Gunga's involves many beloved traditions...

cousins!!!

There are 23 children and adults living under one roof. It's pure insanity. And we love it. My mother-in-law joins us, which is really special for us to have both sides of the family celebrate together.
With this many people, there are A LOT of presents...

This year we finally broke down and had the cousins draw names. And the adults did a nice white elephant exchange. I was a little nervous about the white elephant exchange since my love language is gifts. Why did I have to get the most shallow love language? To alleviate my stress, we brought two gifts I knew I wanted so that we could try to get those if everyone else brought duds. In the end, it turned out well for most everyone. Except for my brother-in-law who ended up taking home a froofie scarf and a home decorating book. Sorry Jeff. The good news for my little gift-loving self is that Bill and I both gave each other TOMS. He got my "subtle" hint! And also gave me a pair of socks that reads "I love gifts!". It's true, I can't help myself.

Gunga always does something special for the family while we are all together. In the past it has been renting a trolley for us all to go around and look at Christmas lights. This year it was an indoor water park. We used to ring the bells for the Salvation Army. Look how far we've fallen. Instead of freezing our tushies outside of Wal-mart to serve others, we were doing this...

The final tradition I will share is our Christmas Eve tradition. We all go to a Christmas Eve service. We come home and the kids open one gift. Every year it is jammies. And every year we try to pretend that they aren't getting jammies. But the real tradition starts after the kids are in bed. My sisters and I (and sometimes a husband or two, NEVER my own) stay up until 5am getting everything ready for Christmas Day. Every year I swear I will have my act together and we won't stay up that late. But guess what happens the next year? It's crazy, but I cherish those late night fudge-eating, last minute wrapping, toy-twistie-wire removing memories. This is how my brother-in-law felt about it...

That's just about how each of my sisters and I looked on Christmas night after our whopping 3 hours of sleep. I don't have any pictures of that, of course.

How about this New Year's resolution? Next year we will only stay up until 4am.