My 12 days (or at least favorite things) of Christmas

Christmas is hands down my favorite holiday of the year. Dare I say it, but it's even better than my birthday.

There are many things about the holiday that I love, so since I didn't start early enough to post a "12 Days of Christmas" list, I will post my 12 favorite things about this jolly holiday.

12 - My favorite holiday cartoon is "How the Grinch Stole Christmas." And no, the bad Jim Carrey movie does not count.

11 - Special holiday dinners with my dear friends. For some, it's the only time of the year we actually get to sit down, relax, enjoy a glass of wine and share our joys of the year.

10 - My favorite Christmas CD is "Christmas with the Oak Ridge Boys." I grew up listening to it, and my sister and I both love listening to it. I'm enjoying it right now.

9 - Wrapping presents. And unlike every other previous year within memory where I did all of the wrapping by myself, the bf staged it perfectly for our first holiday season as a couple. The only light was from the Christmas tree. Holiday music was the soundtrack for the afternoon. We enjoyed a couple of bottles of wine and a nice plate of cheese, crackers and fruit. And he helped me wrap my gifts. It was the ideal present wrapping experience.

8 - My favorite holiday movie is "White Christmas" - the music, the storyline, the humor, how hopeful I feel while I'm watching it.

7 - Lying on the living room floor looking up at the Christmas tree.

6 - Sled riding. I know this is a general winter activity, but I associate it with Christmas. Spending hours outside sliding down the hill and then schleping the sled back to the top to do it all over again. (The only year I didn't enjoy it so much was when I put the sled through one of our basement windows.)

5 - Building a snowman, complete with coal eyes and mouth, carrot nose, scarf, twig arms and a nice hat.

4 - Picking out the tree at the tree farm. My family hasn't done this since I was in high school or early college. It was one of my favorite things growing up. We would all go the the tree farm together and spend what felt like hours picking out the perfect tree.

3 - Wrapping paper fight. My family has the best way of celebrating Christmas. As far as I know, it dates back at least 58 years (since that's how old my dad is). We all go to midnight mass together, which this year is a true test of dedication to the sanctity that midnight mass should take place at midnight (not 9 or 10 pm like a lot of Catholic churches have started doing). This year the closest church to my parents' new house with midnight mass is 45 minutes away.

So back to the tradition, we go to mass, drive home, run into the house and change into our pajamas. This is critical...no gifts can be handed out to anyone until everyone is in their pjs. My dad hands out gifts from the haphazard pile under the tree. And then it starts...THE WRAPPING PAPER FIGHT. It continues through the entire present-opening time. I told the bf to make sure he works on his aim. He claims he won't wing one at my mom, but just wait until she gets him first. Then I'll have to believe it will be game on. After gift opening, we pick up the mess caused by the crumpled up wrapping paper balls. We watch a family movie and eat chips and dip (only Lawson's French Dip), and people start drifting off around 4 am. It's the best way to celebrate Christmas ever. And I've repeatedly and repeatedly told the bf, technically it is Christmas Day when we unwrap!

2 - The munchkins. Not that my family members aren't all kids at heart, but we will be celebrating our second Christmas with my neices, the Bomba munchkins - Olivia and Cassie. Last year, they were less than five months old, so all they really did was sleep. This year, they will have napped in the car and at church, and we're anticipating they will be their regular maniac selves tearing open boxes and generally just running around the house. Plus, that's two more targets for the crumpled wrapping paper balls.

1 - My favorite thing this year is simple. I get to spend it with the bf. It's our first Christmas together, the first of many to come. He's already made it perfect.

The next step (and no, not the kind with a shiny diamond in a pretty velvet box)

Ah, that dreaded milestone in a relationship when it’s time to meet the significant other’s parents. I’ve heard the horror stories from others about how the first meet-and-greet went horribly wrong with no ability to recover from the disaster – hence leading to the eventual demise of the relationship. I’ve also heard about the opposite where the newly introduced party and the parents instantly become BFF.

So when I was scheduled to meet the bf’s parents this past weekend, I was hoping for a happy middle ground between those two extremes – ok, maybe leading a bit more towards the later – not the BFF part, but at least mutual likability between all involved parties.

Now, he met my parents about three months ago. Though my family isn’t that big, it did involve about 15 people for a cookout at my parents’ house. My family can be fairly loud and boisterous (though much of this might be attributable to them reacting to my obnoxious personality) – and so I figured what the heck, I’ll just throw him into the middle of that and see if he sinks or swims. Now, I wasn’t as ruthless as that sounds. I did prep him fairly well on the different personalities that would be involved. And of course, he was his usual charming self and was well received by all. (I think this is probably best demonstrated when after all of us helping my parents move a couple of months later, my brother-in-law asked, “Can we keep him??”)

Anyway, back to me meeting his parents. In mid October, he first broached the subject of introducing me to them, and with everyone’s schedules, this past weekend is when everyone was available.

Now I met both of them briefly at this year’s Easter church service, but it was under the guise of “Meet my friend, Kate. She’s attending service with me before she goes to her parents for dinner.” (In his defense, though we were dating at that time, it wasn’t too serious yet.)

So this past weekend’s meeting would serve as the first “official” meeting where I would be introduced as “the girlfriend.” Now, while I just threw him into the shark tank when he met my parents, he decided to be strategic about the introduction to his parents. He announced that the four of us would meet at a restaurant and partake of dinner together.

He anticipated that this approach would be potentially less stressful for everyone than dinner at his parents’ house. And since he had been nice enough to inform me a couple of months ago that his dad has never really warmed up to anyone he has previously dated, I was very appreciative to his attention to the details of the meeting, and his desire to set up a situation where things were more likely to succeed.

Though I tend to be pretty fearless, I will admit that the ominous warning about his dad was enough to make me feel more than a little stressed from time to time in the weeks leading up to the meeting. I knew that it was important to the bf that they like me, so I really wanted to do right by him.

So with all of these factors added to the mix, my goals for the dinner were to:
1. Officially meet his parents
2. Try and enjoy the evening
3. Not say anything inappropriate or too obnoxious (both of which can be challenging for me)

and…………
4. Not have them hate me

I will admit flashbacks to the 2000 “Meet the Parents” movie were frequently reoccurring in my brain. I was hoping it wouldn’t be some crazy version of the movie, which had the tagline “First comes love. Then comes interrogation.” Now while no one was asking for anyone’s hand in marriage, I was hoping it wouldn’t involve the suspicion, covert background checks and the famed lie-detector test showcased in the movie.

So how did it go? It went very well. We met at this great restaurant in North Canton called Main Street Grille. They seemed genuinely excited to meet me. Conversation was good and engaging from all parties. Appetizers, dinner, dessert and a couple of glasses of wine were all enjoyed at a nice slow, relaxing pace. The bf and I drove home from dinner feeling good about the evening. And I was especially relived because there seemed to be a foundation laid for potential, long-term likability.

My relief was further bolstered a couple of days later when the bf called with the first-hand report from a phone conversation with his dad and an email from his stepmom. Apparently, they liked me.

Well, no need to worry, there's plenty of time left for me to screw things up, but for the foreseeable future, I'm good. We'll see how Christmas goes when I meet the other million members of the family.

The trip south and back

Traveling with a significant other for the first time can be somewhat of a test for your relationship. It can be inherently stressful, and everyone deals with travel stress differently.

So I approached the first true trip that the bf and I would take with a lot of excitement mixed with a bit of caution. We get along great, and we seem to be able (at least so far) to talk things through rationally when we have differing viewpoints. I thought that we would be ok, but of course, you never know.

When I was invited to travel south to Tuscaloosa, Ala., for a University of Alabama football game, I, of course, asked the bf to accompany me. He loves football (though, when it comes to college ball, he is a die-hard Ohio State fan), and I thought it would be a nice opportunity for us to spend some uninterrupted time together.

Little did I know that when I chose the game taking place the Saturday after Thanksgiving, that for once I had chosen wisely. I chose the game against Auburn because it meant neither of us had to take any time off of work. As I later learned, the Alabama/Auburn rivalry is perhaps the most important one for both schools. Known as the Iron Bowl, Auburn had won the last six years, and Alabama had never won on its home field. Another thing working in my favor? Going into the game, Alabama was ranked #1 in the nation with an undefeated record.

So while the choice of the game was working in my favor, the travel gods were busting a gut laughing at me when they learned that we would be traveling on perhaps the busiest travel weekend of the year, Thanksgiving weekend.

In preparation for our trip, I did something that I've pretty much never done before. I organized and packed my stuff the night before. I am famously a last-minute packer. Probably my most legendary packing escapade was in high school when I was leaving to go to Philmont in New Mexico for...three months. I started packing around 1:30 am, when we had to leave by 2:30 am to make it to Amtrak in time.

Anyway, so Thanksgiving evening, my clothes were all laid out in neat piles when the bf arrived from spending Turkey Day with his family. Thus, begun another first for me, sharing a suitcase with a significant other. I'm not sure if I'm just overly protective of my stuff or if I had just never had the opportunity before, but the bf has a large suitcase while I just have a little overnight bag. So half my stuff went into his suitcase. The result? Apparently I'm totally able to share suitcase space with another human being.

So on Friday, we managed to get our butts out of bed and make it to the Cleveland airport in plenty of time, though did run into some friends flying to Breckenridge for skiing. I was a little jealous. Anyway, we flew to Houston and had about a 90-minute layover, enough time to grab a decent lunch at Chili's Too (though I did have to ask them to fix the bacon). We successfully made it to Birmingham, and then the first travel issue arose.

We were scheduled to meet a driver who would transport us to Tuscaloosa. Now, before you go thinking that we were living it up with a driver in a black suit and one of those cute little hats waiting in baggage claim with our names on a board to then escort us to a limo with a minibar...our driver was supposed to be a nice guy driving a minivan. Anyway, just as we reach baggage claim, we get a call from him telling us that the van (which the company just bought new, and it only has 10,000 miles on it) broke down. So in the end, our main contact had to drive an hour from Tuscaloosa to the Birmingham airport (giving us time though to grab a snack) and drive back to Tuscaloosa.

We checked into the hotel, relaxed for a little while, grabbed showers and got dressed for dinner, which included divine barbecue, potato salad, baked beans (which I skipped) and sweet tea (perhaps my favorite thing about the south) - all provided by our very gracious hosts. With full bellies, we returned to the hotel, caught up on some tv and crashed.

We were up early on Saturday so that we could enjoy a good southern breakfast, complete with grits (which on this trip I learned I do not like with butter, but do enjoy with gouda). It was rainy and cloudy, but the weather guy said the rain would stop before the game.

It was then on to the Quad on campus to tailgate the way tailgating was meant to be done - show up, drink, eat, sit under a tent, enjoy, watch other football games on the flat screen, go watch the game - basically meaning someone else gets to set up and clean up.

After tailgating (more good food and adult beverages), we headed over to the stadium to hitch an elevator ride to the skybox. While we were waiting in line, we had the pleasure of seeing Charles Barkley walk by. The skybox was amazing, with more great food and company. And of course the game was...awesome - Alabama shut out Auburn 36 to zip, zero, nada. We got to experience the legendary Rammer Jammer Yellow Hammer song first hand. Of course, earlier in the afternoon, the bf had thrown me under the bus by spilling to our hosts that he had practiced the song in advance and I had not. No worries, I did fine, and we had an absolute blast at the game.

We hoofed it back to the truck and then hit a great suburban restaurant, of which, of course, I can't remember the name. Warmed up with some hot cocoa and a nice Pinot Noir, and this is where I learned I like grits with gouda. It was a nice relaxing evening, the perfect way to finish off a long, fun-filled day.

Back at the hotel, it was such a long day that I was going to read while the bf caught up on the remainder of the college football scores. I don't even think I lasted two minutes. Of course, he was nice enough to inform me the next morning that i had been snoring.

On Sunday, our flight wasn't until 4:30, so we had plenty of time to sleep in, grab breakfast at the hotel and pack our stuff. This time all of the toiletries went into his bag, so that we could carry my bag on and not have to pay $15 to check it. We grabbed lunch with our hosts; then the nice guy with the minivan (this one operating as it should) drove us back to the airport, which then began the 10 hours of travel nightmares.

Our flight path was scheduled to take us from Birmingham to Atlanta (the busiest airport in the nation) for a short layover, and then on to Cleveland, arriving home by 9:45 pm. The fun started in security tagged the bf for the special full-body pat down and bomb testing of the luggage. Of course, the most amusing part for me? He was carrying my bag. So when they opened it, they were taking out my heels, dress pants and underwear. I asked him later whether he told them it was his girlfriend's bag or that he was a crossdresser. At that point, we had already found out our first flight was delayed by at least an hour, so he didn't seem so amused. So after waiting for our delayed flight for an extra 90 minutes, we finally departed for Atlanta.

Luckily, our Atlanta to Cleveland flight was also delayed, which meant we avoided having to find a hotel room in Atlanta. From what I had heard from friends, Atlanta is a nightmare to fly through normally, let alone on a busy holiday weekend. Regardless, we had enough time to quickly grab ham sandwiches and Cheetos (which the bf was nice enough to remember is one of my favorite snacks). While we finally made it into Cleveland around 11:15ish, the bf's bag did not. It was still in Atlanta because somehow Delta couldn't manage to transfer bags from their plane to a continental plane in 60 minutes. So the bf spent 20 or 30 minutes in Continental's luggage office filing a claim (along with a number of other folks who had been on both of our flights).

Luckily, I don't live far from the airport, so we finally made it home around 12:15 and crashed. (And we figured it out, that we basically could have driven back to Ohio in the same amount of time.) While we were both planning on going into work on Monday morning, having to go get back to the airport to get the bag changed our plans. So we took advantage of the situation. We slept in until about 8:30 when we got the call that the suitcase had indeed made it to Cleveland, grabbed quick showers, swung by the airport to get the bag and went to breakfast. (I have to say that It really helps the relationship that we're both huge breakfast fans.)

So that is the probably-way-too-long detailed version of our first trip together. We successfully weathered it, didn't bicker even once and managed to still want to be together. It was just a weekend trip, but I think it bodes well for us.