So Davy and Noah and I hosted our first Christmas Eve Dinner in our home last night!
So this was us this morning…
Me exhausted and Davy slugging on the sofa. Yet Noah was pretty thrilled about getting frozen orange juice in a bowl as a breakfast treat.
I think were all prettier last night.
I also call this the “The 7UP Bottle That Ate Freddy” photo.
This year our home was full of bodies and souls on Christmas Eve. The prior year it was at Davy’s aunt’s, Tante Claudine (in white), and the year before that at Davy’s mom’s, Carine’s (in polka-dots). The year before that Davy and I were newlyweds and we spent Christmas Eve in New York with my family and friends. This year it was on us.
Last night, my corn came out of a can and my salad came out of a bag. But I roasted a 16 pound / 7 kilo turkey and made my own stuffing and cranberry sauce and candied yams with pink and white marshmallows, eggplant parmesan, mashed potatoes and a pasta salad. I made gravy from the turkey drippings. I get my adrenaline rush putting together dinners, admittedly, and yesterday I was on fire. Everyone had two plates of food and there’s not that much food left today on Christmas Day, which is part of the thrill.
Christmas Eve in Belgium is bigger than Christmas Day. Everybody parties like it’s their last Christmas Eve on earth and then Christmas Day everybody’s recovering. So there are no big dinners or parties on Christmas Day because that would be bad for the recovery process from the night before. See? I had to get used to this because back in the States my family always celebrated on the actual day.
I was far from my mother and brother and family miles away but I thought of them often last night like I am now. Love knows no bounds. My family here on Christmas Eve included family and friends who gladly threw on goofy Santa hats and managed to all wear them a different way!
He was in kitchen heaven!
(I’ll share some film later).
We placed Noah’s kitchen right outside our “real” kitchen. This morning we caught, on surveillance, Noah making breakfast for himself.
We don’t really have surveillance…