As December rolled in, Jake and I had a weekend getaway in Mendocino County just the two of us, leaving Michael with my parents. It was delightfully rejuvenating and cozy: perfect for us introverts.

We watched good movies, ate good food, soaked in the beautiful scenery, and had a glorious time. Jake had gone on a work trip the week after Thanksgiving, so it was wonderful to spend intentional time together and relax after the busyness of the past few weeks. It was a perfect little vacation before our baby girl arrives.

Now we’re back home, the Christmas spirit has come to our little cottage. I’ve had Christmas on my mind ever since the Nativity Fast began in November. The Nativity Fast, or Advent as it’s known in the West, is one of my favorite liturgical seasons. The Nativity Fast starts 40 days before Christmas, but Advent traditionally begins approximately four Sundays before Christmas.

The beauty of this season is in the waiting. The joyful preparation, mingled with the sorrow of the world. The tension of already, but not yet. The music, the candlelight, the brimming anticipation as we await redemption while in a broken world: it’s all so beautiful. So poignant.

As we enter into the four weeks before Christmas, I very intentionally integrate my beloved Western practices into our daily lives. While I currently attend an Eastern Rite Orthodox Church, I grew up in Western culture and became Orthodox in a Western Rite parish. Both East and West are integral to who I am, and both traditions have shaped my life. So I embrace both and weave them into our family.

Saint Nicholas’s feast day marks the beginning of Christmas decorating in our house. For those of you who might not be familiar with St. Nicholas, he’s one of my favorite saints, and the original Santa Claus. There are many beautiful traditions from all over the world to celebrate St Nicholas: this sweet article from the Farmer’s Almanac gives good historical context.

We set out our shoes on the evening of December 5th, putting carrots in them for St Nicholas’s reindeer. In the morning, Michael found oranges and chocolate coins and some small toys in place of the carrots. He was very excited, especially because he got to have a piece of chocolate before breakfast.

If you want to integrate some Saint Nicholas traditions into your own family, Kh. Destinie from Ascetic Life of Motherhood has some wonderful resources here.

In the evening we decorated our tree, drank mulled cider, and watched How The Grinch Stole Christmas. Michael loved putting ornaments on the tree, and taking them off, and putting them on, and so on.

Jake and I have chosen to get a live, potted tree each Christmas we’ve celebrated as a married couple. We’ve planted them once January rolls around. Michael’s first Christmas tree is a hearty little cedar that’s still growing in our backyard, and this spruce will hopefully grace our front yard for years to come.

Michael and I also dried orange slices to make a citrus garden, and made “gingerbread” salt dough ornaments. I used my mom’s Springerle cookie molds: she has the 12 Days of Christmas and they are breathtakingly beautiful. The salt dough held the designs well, and I plan on painting and sealing them with resin once they fully dry. This picture was taken before they dried completely: now they’ve got more of a white shine from the salt. I still can’t wait to see them on our tree.

In our society, Christmas often is marketed as a shopping binge colored with garish lights and repetitive tinny music. It’s easy to become cynical and just see the glorified waste and greed: I admit I get tired of the Christmasy ads that bombard me as soon as Thanksgiving is over. All year we’re inundated with the pressure for the newest, the best, the shiniest and most updated stuff, and it increases exponentially in December.

But inside our homes, traditions can hold the consumerism at bay. Some are newer; some are centuries old: Saint Nicholas Day, homemade decorations, Advent wreaths, Christmas carols, cookie decorating, gingerbread houses; baked goods with recipes from battered cards and handwritten notes. Traditions, both liturgical and familial, reorient us towards what really matters.

What are some of your traditions? How does your home welcome in the Advent season?