Christmas pancakes

When I was a kid, Christmas morning was our time for just our immediate family.  We’d get up, open gifts and then my dad would make us breakfast — usually pancakes.  We looked forward to it every year.  My dad makes great pancakes.

My plate after enjoying my Christmas pancakes.

After my brother and I were grown and married, we’d still head to our parents’ house for Christmas morning breakfast.  Then we started having children of our own, and we wanted to pass on that same tradition to them.  Last Christmas, we got up on Christmas morning with a tiny baby.  She was only having breastmilk in those days, so she had no pancakes.  This year, though, was different.

My husband also makes great pancakes.  Just like my dad, he makes silver dollar sized cakes for me.  And he uses oil in the skillet so they have crispy edges.  Those are the best pancakes.  This Christmas, Lexiana had her first Christmas morning pancakes.  She had them before opening gifts.  At nearly 15 months, she’s much more interested in eating when she first wakes up than anything else.  I’m pretty sure she knew something was up when I didn’t get out her usual yogurt cup or bowl of oatmeal for breakfast.

She ate two silver dollar pancakes with a side of mandarin oranges and a couple bites of bacon.  I even snuck her a bit of a syrup on a few bites of pancakes.  She liked them.  She doesn’t get the significance.  To her, it was just a different breakfast.  She didn’t realize that my husband made the batter from scratch using his mom’s recipe that he’s made his own.  She didn’t t know the tradition that went into that breakfast from both my family and my husband’s family.  She just knew she liked when she was eating.

My kiddo gobbling down her daddy's homemade pancakes.

I told her, though.  As we sat at the table, chewing in contented happiness together while my husband made his own pancakes, I told her that this is what I had done growing up.  I told her that I hope she learns to look forward to her dad’s pancakes every Christmas morning.  I told her that she should appreciate her good daddy who got up early to make sure she had warm pancakes. She just smiled at me, said “bite” and enjoyed herself.  That’s what traditions really are about, or at least they should be.  They should just be about enjoying ourselves.

And, I later learned, that my brother made Christmas morning pancakes for his kids as well.  Some traditions are very worth keeping.

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