Please Come Home for Christmas

How do you like your eggs deviled?

I have written, probably since the very first year, that deviled eggs are an important part of the holiday season for my sons.  All the way back to 2001 when 3 year old Paul traded his pumpkin pie for more deviled eggs after his preschool teacher he couldn't have any more. I’ve mentioned the boys' deeply philosophical discussion in grade school about the importance of deviled eggs in every major holiday except halloween, the one you would think a deviled themed snack would be welcomed.  I’ve shared all the variations of deviled eggs the boys have made over the years; from Paul’s spicy sriracha deviled eggs, to Matthew’s counterpoint “heavenly” deviled eggs that relied heavily on mayonnaise, a touch of mustard and sweet pickle relish, plus everyone is a fan of Sandy Feree’s bacon jalapeno deviled eggs.  I am certain I have mentioned over the years the almost relic-like status their grandmother Elisa’s deviled egg platter has for them.  If those holiday deviled eggs aren’t served on grammas egg platter, is it really a holiday?

In 2011, when we were living in Colorado, my family came for the holidays.  We have dishes aplenty to serve a huge crowd, and I had unboxed all the china just for the event.  The one thing we did not own, however, was a deviled egg platter.  I guess before my in-laws moved to Oklahoma in 2003 when we entertained for the holidays we served deviled eggs on a regular plate?  

Matthew had pointed out several times that we probably just needed gramma to come and bring her egg plate so we could he ok to celebrate the holiday with my family.  Paul problem solved the situation and suggested we could just serve the eggs in our pink and green tupperware deviled eggs trays that we use to store and transport them in.  Matthew quickly vetoed that suggestion, because if you are using fancy china plates, clearly you can’t serve food from tupperware.

I remedied the situation and bought one off of ebay.  A very pretty cobalt blue glass deviled egg plate that coordinates with our cobalt blue drinking glasses.  I figured that would end the discussion.  I should have known better.  Paul agreed the egg plate was pretty, but if we were going to be fancy, I should have got a nice one, like grammas.  Matthew was horrified.  Who even has a blue deviled egg tray?  Everyone knows a deviled egg tray is just fancy clear glass and crystal like his grammas.  He suggested people would probably get indigestion from deviled eggs served on a blue egg plate.  Honestly? 2011 may be the one and only year we ever used the blue egg plate.  

Now that we are living safely back in Oklahoma where my sons can eat their holiday deviled eggs off gramma’s egg plate, it has not been an issue.  Flash forward to a couple of months ago, I saw on facebook that our friend Jessica had thrifted an egg plate, Exactly like the one my mother in law has. EXACTLY.  So I sent a picture to the boys and asked if they thought we should get another one.  They responded in minutes with a resounding YES.  So a huge thank you to Jessica for facilitating that acquisition.  All future holidays are saved!

Now the only question is, did we make enough deviled eggs?

Drop Top Sleigh Ride

The return of the mutant tree!  The very first entry I wrote for my christmas blog is the story of the year my Mom decided to forgo spending money on a christmas tree, opting to donate the money to a good cause.  Instead of the tree, she obtained fresh pine branches from a friend who had recently trimmed a giant tree in their yard.  She then assembled said branches in a large tub and we decorated that.  As evidenced below.

If you have read the original tale, you know that the year of the mutant tree is also the year Jennifer and I both brought home our classroom trees. You will also know the way Karma paid me back when Paul was in T-1 at Hawthorne Elementary. In searching for the elusive photo of the mutant tree I also discovered these.

All of this photographic Christmas nostalgia? Cringe? Cheer? Inspired an idea for Jennifer’s Bakery this holiday season.  Last year we asked customers and online fans to send in pictures of themselves performing in the nutcracker and literally covered her bakery in the images as a celebration of all the dancers who have ever performed in the nutcracker, regardless of if they went on to become a professional dancer or not.

This year? We are providing the opportunity for people to share their old christmas photos; whether they are awkwardly posing in front of the family christmas tree, or posed professionally.  I am absolutely in love with the results.  I am extending the offer to share that joy with my readers.  If it is December 2025 (even if it is after, to be honest) and you want in on the fun, please email me your best nostalgic christmas pictures (limit 3) to judson@dedicatedgf.com and they will get shared on the dedicatedgf instagram and facebook pages, and copies will be displayed in the lobby. I promise to protect your identity, if necessary.  I can not wait to see your merry christmas pictures.

Home

I have shared before that there is a point in every child's life when the melancholy creeps into the holiday season.   I shared what my good friend Daryl wrote about it in his blog here.  I know with my own sons that the line of demarcation involved grief and loss.  Unfortunately, that is often a struggle most people share during the holiday season.

My tradition of the Say their names post is partly to offset a little of that holiday grief, by remembering friends and family members who are gone.  I had a recent conversation with my sister Jennifer on this topic.  For years, her children’s tradition was for each of them to decorate their own bedrooms for Christmas, borrowing heavily from the family Christmas supply, while cultivating their own supply of holiday decorations over the years. Then on Christmas day Grampa Jerry would pick the winner, usually a 3 way tie.

In 2020, Jennifer’s oldest, age 16 at the time, opted to not decorate.  This caused Jen’s middle child to only make a half-hearted effort in her room.  Her youngest, still only 10, went all in as usual.  Since then, Jen’s youngest is still always all in on the decorating tradition, while the others have eased out.  Naomi, Jen’s middle child certainly gets a pass, as in recent years her holidays have been all about dancing in the Tucson Ballet’s production of Nutcracker.  In 2022 and 2023 she danced the role of Clara, and remains of the more popular Claras in recent years. Even though she danced in Phoenix last year, Ballet Tucson used giant sized posters of her as Clara all over town.

Last year, living in Phoenix, Naomi decorated her small apartment, and every year her collection of nutcrackers are always out at Jen’s home, or her bakery.  When it was time for Jennifer and Christian to decorate, Jennifer had pulled a muscle in her back that morning at work and wasn’t feeling up to dragging all the decorations in.  Christian told her not to worry, he would handle it.  While Jen rested on, my amazing nephew dragged all the decoration boxes into the house, put up the tree and decorated for the family. 

This year?  Jen attended big foodie event work on a Friday in early November and came home late to find Christian had decorated the entire house.  He put up and decorated the tree.  He decorated the table in the entry way.  He decorated the table they use as a hot cocoa and sweet treat station.  He decorated his own room, (although to be honest, his room stays christmas decorated most of the time).  He also found his older brother's Christmas decoration box and decorated Keenan’s room, in anticipation of his return home from college.  He set up and decorated Naomi’s tree from her apartment, and put up her bedroom decorations.  

What a Christmas surprise when Jen got home!  Christian couldn’t find the nutcrackers, but once Jen told him where they were, he got them out and put them up as well.  When Jen told me the story I made the comment that apparently, Christian hasn’t hit that line of demarcation yet.  Jennifer said that for Christian, he just LOVES the holidays.  Any holiday is an opportunity to spend time with his family, and he absolutely relishes every part of that, from the planning to the executing, and then actively enjoys the actual participation in the celebration.  I just love that nugget so very much.

Jennifer’s children’s last name is Johnson, but their entire lives, my son’s have said their cousins are 100% Kinkades because of all the similarities they share, and as a fierce declaration of how much they love them.  I have to agree that 100% Christian’s love of Christmas and joy of celebrating, certainly feels familiar.

Angels in the Snow

Say their names.

Every year we suffer losses, and every year I think perhaps I'll be better prepared to weather the losses. And, yet here we are with a familiar Christmas shaped feeling of loss.  Certainly I may not be the person most affected by their absence,but I do appreciate the fact that they are gone, and I miss their presence, maybe the most when it's Christmas and I know their loved ones miss them deeply.

So here is my annual attempt to remember those we've lost by remembering them and saying their names.

Kevin Hoover

Leonard Atchley

Ann Nichols

Taylor Hendrickson

Rochelle Maxwell Hidalgo

Bill Hill

Ralph Unzicker

Dan Rupp

David Silva

Karen Cotter Wood

Dale Roberts

Jeffery Thibadoux

Allen Miller

Linda Hicks

Kari Adair

Joyce Keith

Cody Ferguson

Julia Beth Hankins

Betsy Hosley Kirk

Michael Paske

Jim Myles

Pam Barnett

Wylson Dainkau

Gary James

Becky Fox-Akins

Patrick Vaught

Jay Kopp

Chris Young

Karen Hylton

Ann Hankins

Stephanie Dunaway Forrest

Amanda Rohn

Chris Kinkade

Tara Stiner

Jane Rogers Meeks

Geraldine Black

Roy Casares

Nancy Casares

Mike Sutton

Courtney Owens Bond

Barry Hollis

James Swedberg

Donna Keyes

Cindy Stuart

Larry Roberts

Fred Kinkade

Dorothy Kinkade

Archie Horton

Alice Horton

Jan Kinkade

Vera Sotelo

Danny Sotelo

Fausto Sotelo

Max Cook

Charles Eldon Cook

Run Rudolph Run

In my lifetime I have owned sweaters people thought were ugly.  I have owned sweaters for Christmas, but I have never owned an “ugly Christmas sweater”.  In December 2023 I had just started working in a call center (again), and they had an “ugly christmas sweater” day.  My training class had dwindled down to 4 of us.  The trainer suggested we could (read that as SHOULD) demonstrate our team unity and commitment to corporate culture by participating.  If you know me, you know that is really not my style.  Plus, I don’t trust that everyone else will participate, and the very last thing I want is to stand out for looking ridiculous.  However I allowed myself to be persuaded to participate in ugly sweater day at work, against my better judgment.  As the token male member of the class, I was going to wear a Santa-esque sweater and the other class members would all wear reindeer inspired sweaters.  The big day was scheduled for the first Monday back after Thanksgiving break.  Someone in the class even passed out reminder notes not to forget.

All my fears were confirmed when I arrived at work that fateful Monday  wearing a newly acquired ugly Christmas sweater to discover the others in my group “forgot” and I am the only one in the room wearing a Santa rejected sweater. This is absolutely 100% the reason I don’t participate in things. I was determined to dash home at lunch and change, but my new supervisor persuaded me not to so that I could get my picture taken and emailed in with everyone else for a chance to win the random drawing prize.  After lunch I posed for the picture and they emailed me a copy so I could send it to corporate.

Then I discovered that as a new hire, my email was restricted to internal emails only, meaning just on the call center floor.  No way to send the email to corporate, as they were in another building, across town.  I told them I was feeling like I was being singled out.  They assured me I was not.

At the end of the day, as I was taking my last break, one of my coworkers on another team asked to take a picture with me because of a scavenger hunt where they are required to take a picture with Santa.  I posed for the picture, but honestly, is that an HR offense?  Seems like I should have filed a grievance.  They all definitely made my naughty list that year.

Christmas (baby please come home)

Hey, what happened the last couple of years?  Great question.  The answer is…nuanced.  To blog in December is not always an easy task.  It always seems as though the time I take to do it means I am taking time away from something else, something more important.  Maybe not more important to me, but more important to…others. 

The first few years I blogged at work, when I was working as a minor cog in the wheel of capitalism. No one noticed if I spent 20-40 minutes over the course of a day spalling sentences together to make a blog entry.  But then came promotion and more responsibility, and the feeling that  was being watched and monitored constantly.  Certainly, I was not being paid to blog, until I was, but not about Christmas, but I digress.  I am cognizant of the fact that it was not an appropriate use of company time.  Then company time became all I had, and then I still managed to do it.

Then 2023 came, and I got 2 entries in, and one of them was really good (gift of the magi) and then… I stopped. And no one noticed. Or no one said anything.  And the intrusive voices in my head said, no one cares… it is basically a cry for attention anyway… real men have better things to do… Kathleen has to do Everything and you just type lame stuff in a blog no one reads… Every year you fall short of 25 anyway… Honestly, you are bad at this… and on and on. So I didn’t finish.  No one even noticed. At least no one said anything.

Last year, December 1 came and went. I didn't start and then it felt too late and again, no one noticed. Why does it matter anyway?  I thought maybe like most online blogs it just died a silent death.

Fast forward to this summer, my son Paul and I were having a conversation about the day drinking and crafting videos.  I shared some of the intrusive thoughts that had shut that project down as well.  I said, “No one cares anyway,” and it just gives a desperate “I’ll do anything for attention” vibe.  Paul said, “Pop, that's the point, you are doing it for attention, and you don’t care what people think.  That is the whole point of all of it!” 

So here we are.  If nothing else, someday, years from now, these silly words will remain for my boys to read.  

What Christmas means to me

In mid October I moved all my Christmas crafting supplies into an empty bedroom at Matthew’s house.  My goal was 2 part, #1 to create 25 days of Christmas day drinking and crafting videos.  which I have.  Goal #2 was to go through and organize the crafting chaos and maybe pare down some of the clutter so that after I completed the project, instead of 3 carloads of mess, I could combine it all into a few well organized tubs of supplies.

Goal #1? At the point of this writing I am at 23 videos, I have 2 solid idea plans for 2 more videos, plus a tentative agreement from Matthew to help me with a video for day 25.  Mission accomplished. 

Goal #2? Well… Matthew has more than once politely asked if I could try and contain the glitter to just that room.  Now, it is not like I am sneaking into other parts of his house, yelling “Christmas miracle” and tossing handfuls of glitter and then running away. Although, let us be honest, it is always a possibility.  But if you know glitter, you know, it is insidious, a tiny, conservative, tasteful application of glitter in one room means you will be finding piles of glitter in the corner of your garage decades later.  I do not make the glitter crafting rules, I am just bound to them.

All of that preface is to say, one unexpected benefit of this plan is I have had the privilege of having multiple conversations with my son.  It is not as though we don’t talk all the time normally, but typically he has stopped by my house on the way to something, so conversations are rushed and often interrupted.  When we all gather as a family, everyone has things to share so I don’t always get the chance to listen to him one on one.  So this gift of Matthew time has been a blessing in disguise.  

I love to hear him share his thoughts.  I love how satisfied he is in his career path.  This last year, Fairweather Friends, the artisanal wood fire pizza kitchen and brewery he was running the kitchen at closed down. Sad face.  He went to work for a fancy upscale members only supperclub downtown.  Think Soho house. So exclusive that while he regularly fed the owners of the Thunder basketball team, there was no chance his parents could eat there.  

Every kitchen has its own learning opportunities.  What Matthew learned there is that there is a difference between male dominated cocky trash talking super competitive professional kitchens and Toxic male dominated cocky trash talking super competitive professional kitchens.  It did not take him long to figure out he knows what his boundaries are and what he will and will not tolerate.  While that is a hard lesson to learn, I am proud of him for figuring it out, and being able to say “I love what I do, but I don’t love doing it in this place, for these people.”

He is currently working at Harvey Bakery and much much happier.  He has said he is in his “Bakery Era” and really loves it.  I think for all the flash and sizzle of being a sous chef, or chef de cuisine and being on top of the kitchen hustle, and the way that appeals to his competitive nature, Matthew has a deep love of baking.  I love to see him thriving.

This is all the preface for the Christmas point of this entry.  Recently we have had conversations about the role of “fun” Christmas activities, like tree decorating, or santa stories, in the life of christians celebrating the true meaning of Christmas, and whether that serves as a distraction from Christ.  I made the point that certainly, one can eschew the secular trappings of Christmas and spend the season in quiet contemplation and prayer.  He countered that it seems like people who argue against the “fun” Christmas stuff are more interested in other people not having fun, than they are in their own "spiritual" celebration.  Then he summed his point up by saying that christmas fun is the dutch baby to the lemon curd of christmas joy.

Think about that.  A dutch baby is essentially a plain baked pancake.  On its own, it is, well, a plain baked pancake.  However when you add lemon curd? It transforms into an amazingly delicious brunch dish.  

This season, I wish you all the biggest helping of lemon curd dutch baby Christmas Joy.

DJ Play a Christmas Song

“Even the broken can produce joy.” – Elizabeth Montgomery, allegedly.

I may or may not be broken, but I definitely identify with that statement. The world certainly feels broken, this country feels like a disaster, and yet… people still yearn for joy. They search for it, crave it, and make room for it despite the complicated mess around us. When I look back, hasn’t the Christmas season always carried its own complications? Its stresses? Isn’t joy often something we hold alongside hard times?

Even in childhood pictures, I’m reminded that I didn’t always look joyful. I remember the economic pressures my family faced. Our Christmas Eve tradition of enchiladas and tamales wasn’t born out of nostalgia—it was because my mom couldn’t afford a turkey and all the fixings on top of presents and plane tickets for my sister and me to visit our dad.

By middle school, the world felt even heavier. The idea of finding joy in Christmas felt immature—uncool, even. How can you be cool and joyful? As if.

As an adult, it’s always the world versus the joy of the season. My desire to spend time with my children and family—doing holiday things we love—constantly competes with work, finances, illness, grief, and the everyday struggles of life. I often think it’s worse now than ever, but a glance back just 100 years shows the foundation was already there.

In the December 1925 issue of Better Homes and Gardens, contributors were wrestling with the ghosts of WWI. Their prayers that such a war never return sat alongside consumer-driven ads for children’s gifts. Articles about investing in your home ran next to money-saving recipes and guides for a “homemade Christmas.” Honestly, that isn’t so different from today.

Growing up, I was taught you cannot live in a fantasy world. And yet it’s easy to see why I might want to. Here we are in December 2025, and I struggle with realities every day—economic, political, global, local, church, and family challenges. These weigh on nearly everyone I know. But I refuse to believe that carving out moments of joy—setting aside the overwhelming heaviness of life, even briefly—is somehow irresponsible or immature.

Life is too hard to live in seriousness alone. If I pour all my energy into the harsh realities—working hard, earning money, donating, voting, reading the news, discussing the state of the world—yes, maybe I’ll make a difference. But if I do all that and still refuse to seek out joy because “the world is too serious,” then what have I gained? What lesson have I taught my sons? What legacy would that leave?

So yes—I reject that idea. I choose to seek joy. I go looking for silliness and fun, not to be foolish, but because that is often where joy hides.

One of my favorite memories from recent years is when Kat, the boys, and I stopped by the giant Christmas balls at Devon Energy to take a few pictures after a late-night movie. That moment has nothing to do with the movie or the photos. It’s a favorite because, in the middle of that picture-taking silliness, we found joy. In a world full of uncertainty—global, local, and personal—we shared something bright and light and meaningful.

And for what it’s worth? That is not nothing.