Another Night Before Christmas...

Slainte

Merry Christmas (Eve), America!

Today, for me, is just as much fun as Christmas Day itself.  There's a feast to prepare, a Christmas movie marathon to undertake, family portraits to capture, Christmas cocktails to indulge in, and, of course, the whole 'Santa came while you dumb kids were sleeping ' thing to pull off.  It's a lot to tackle in one day, and I'll be the first to admit that I can get a little stressed out with it all, but thank God this year, once again, we managed to pull the whole sum'bitch off without a hitch.

Behold - Christmas Eve at the Houghs:

After downing a pot of coffee or so, I took the ol' spin bike for a spin (nyuk nyuk) and watched one of my two favorite Christmas movies, A Muppet Family Christmas.  The Cannonball (who you can see in the chair, there) ended up joining me.

Since Christmas Day is all-out chaos incarnate, we hardly have time to prepare meals throughout the day.  So, in order to prepare for this, the last three years I've baked a Christmas Turkey on Christmas Eve. . . that way we'll have something to pick at throughout Christmas Day.  This year's sacrificial bird weighed in around 15 lbs, and I prepped him using the ol' Michigander Homestyle recipe (see here) that's our family favorite. 

Turkeys take forever to prep, and while I was in the kitchen slaving away with it a random package showed up at the house.  My old college buddy Russell sent a care package full of my favorite African food, Fufu, that he had found in one of those hippie world food stores he frequents.  Without a doubt, a genuine Christmas miracle.

Does anybody seriously eat this shit?  I've never heard of anyone actually requesting it in all of the Thanksgiving/Christmases I celebrated growing up.

Ready for the oven

3 1/2 hours later (though I probably should've given it about a half hour more, looking back - this Turkey didn't turn out as good as last years.)

You can't make it out all that well, but there's an apple shoved up that Turkey's asshole. . . or whatever that hole is.  And, in case you were curious, that's Goose Island's Festivity Ale in the pub pint glass in the background, there.

This is where Watson ended up spending the next hour, patiently watching me as I carved and stored the various grades of Turkey meat (white, dark, dog scraps) in Rubbermaid containers.

All dolled up for a Christmas Eve church session at Peace United Methodist Church (believe it or not, we actually followed through and went to church on Christmas Eve this year.)  The service was mostly traditional Christmas songs, and lasted a mere half hour. . . in other words, it was the greatest church service I've been to in years.

After Church, we decided to watch some Christmas movies, feast on some Turkey and sides, and knock back a few egg nogs.  While Kris got the food ready, I snapped a few last-minute house-before-Christmas shots - here's some presents stored back in my Study.

The girls room

The playroom

(We felt this nutcracker best fit our family's personality.)

Santa calls upon the dark powers of Hell to grant him speedy passage around the world this Christmas Eve. . .

Setting up an impromptu dinner table in the living room. . .

We're not big on letting the kids eat in the living room, and usually only allow it on special occasions (Holidays, Superbowls, Fridays, etc.)

Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol is hands-down the quintessential Christmas story (I'll fight you if you disagree, America), so we gave the kids the choice of which Christmas Carol version they wanted - Disney's (seen here, which they ended up choosing), the Muppets', Jim Carrey's, Sesame Street's, etc.

Kris forced our family to stop off at a Publix on the way home from church in order to pick up a loaf of French bread, some potato salad and dessert sides for tonight's dinner.  I tried explaining to her we didn't need sides for the Turkey, but, as you can see, my input doesn't amount to much 'round these parts.

The Hough Family's Official 2014 Christmas Portrait (you're welcome)

If I was a dog, I'd f***ing hate costumes like this.

Another tradition which you at home may also share is the opening of one gift on Christmas Eve.  There's a science to this, don't think it's random selection on their part.  No, the gifts have to be practically identical - last year they got matching Hello Kitty fleece robes, if you'll remember.  If these gifts aren't identical in nature, you run the risk of unleashing a full-on freak-out.

While picking out Grandma and Papa John's ornaments from a local Hallmark store last month, the girls saw and fell in love with a series of Ty brand plush cats (super soft and hypoallergenic, to boot), so I came back later and bought the two the kids were pining over.  They already had names, but Abby renamed the white cat she had wanted 'Snowy.'

Alayna's black-and-white cat kept it's original name, 'Shadow.'  The Cannonball isn't picky.

(The girls requested this picture, and gave me strict instructions on how to frame it.)

An apple for Rudolph ( 'cause, as I'm told, 'apples are red and Rudolph's nose is red') and a carrot for Vixen (the other eight other reindeer are shit out of luck this year, I guess.)  The girls insisted everything be bagged in Ziploc sandwich bags this year, too. . . who the hell knows why.

See those cookies off to the left?  We didn't make Christmas cookies this year (they have more than enough cookies and candy lying around the house, courtesy of the never-ending stream of care packages and early presents we've been getting all season), so as a result, Santa's getting some Grand Floridian gingerbread leftovers (thanks, Papa and Nana.)

Here's another Hough family Christmas Eve tradition (and I'm sure in yours as well) - a bedtime reading of 'Twas the Night Before Christmas.

(You can tell the kids are really into this.)

We have another version of this story that the girls got from church - one of those recordable books that tells the story for you.  The girls were much more into this audible (and abridged) version. . . though Alayna was about funned-out with story time all together, as you can see.

Bizarro selfie from the Houghs

Thanks for the clarification, girls (the flashlight, evidently, is so Santa 'would see the letter with all the lights off in the middle of the night.')

Founder's Breakfast Stout - one of my all-time favorite beers.  Special occasions practically demand it.

No, we didn't eat any of that - we were both too full from our late dinner/Christmas cocktails, so we just took bites and spit them out in the garbage, and crumbled up the gingerbread cooki- er, I mean, Santa and his reindeer ate them.

Every year once the kids go to bed, Kris and I set out all of the Christmas presents under the tree (spoiler alert - including Santa's) while watching my other favorite Christmas movie, National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation.

One of 'Santa's gifts for the girls this year was a collapsable doll house for their Barbies.  We tossed around the idea of a real Barbie house, but this thing was the highest rated doll house on Amazon (aside from the Dreamhouse, which costs about $150), and this wasn't supposed to be a 'main gift.'  And you can't really argue with 'collapsable.'

See that dark nether-region in the middle of the tree, where Christmas lights apparently fear to tread?  We've got a bulb that went out a couple days ago, and although I managed to find it (which was a bitch of a task, believer me), the stores are all sold out of this particular type of replacement bulb. . . so this is more or less going to be one of Christmas 2015's royal headaches.

. . . and now it's time for a few hours of sleep before I end up waking up at 3:30am, anxious for the great reveal.

Stay tuned, Internet.

- Brian