When I say "Home for Christmas," it has a totally different meaning for me than it probably does most people. Most people, it seems, are talking about traveling to their childhood homes, or to extended family gatherings. For me, it means being home. My little home with my little family. We felt this way when we lived in California (at one point with my parents and five minutes from Jed's parents). We feel that way now, across the country from family. As much as I love my family, and Jed's family, and would especially like to be a part of my childhood traditions again, I also want to celebrate Christmas with my little family and our little family traditions in our home.
When Princess Sparkley was a tiny little girl and Buddy was a baby we were in California surrounded by family. That's when we stole my brother-in-law's family tradition of eating at a Chinese restaurant on Christmas Eve so our little family had time for us and the making of our own traditions. Then we'd hurry home and do all the other Christmas traditions that were part of our bigger families, but we didn't want to forget a special time just for us.
So as much fun as it would be to be all together with family for the holidays, I even get a little homesick for it, where I really want to be is downstairs in my living room with pajamas on watching my kids tear wrapping paper off presents while Jed and I snuggle on the couch, balling up said wrapping paper and throwing it in the general direction of the trash bag.