The Holidays That Built Me

Growing up, holidays were stitched together with memory and magic—and more ham than any one family could possibly justify. Some traditions were loud and proud (cue the turkey coma), while others whispered quietly through the years—like a green glass pickle hidden among Christmas lights, waiting for sharp little eyes to find it.

Those moments weren’t about the gifts or the chaos. They were about ritual—the rhythm of returning to the same small joys, year after year.

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Traditions We Still Carry

Some rituals have weathered every storm and will be guarded like sacred scrolls.

The Christmas Pickle remains law. Yes, it’s real. Yes, it’s weird. And yes, we’ve upgraded to Pickolas Cage—a 3D-printed pickle wearing Nicolas Cage’s face, because we respect the absurd. First one to find him wins a prize and eternal bragging rights.

Turkey on Thanksgiving? Non-negotiable. No tofu, no “let’s try a new recipe” nonsense. Golden turkey forever.

Ham for Christmas and Easter stays, too—salty, simple, and perfectly ours.

Then there are the sweets: pizzelles, those paper-thin anise cookies that taste like childhood (and one near-disaster involving a broken press). And, of course, Yooper Goop—that Midwestern miracle of Jell-O, whipped cream, and canned fruit we all pretend is salad.

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Traditions I’m Reviving for My Girls

Some magic deserves a comeback.

We’ll open one gift on Christmas Eve, just enough to spark the wonder without unleashing chaos. We’ll color Easter eggs, inhale the vinegar, admire our cracked masterpieces. And yes, there will be egg hunts—indoors, outdoors, and inevitably, inside couch cushions.

Trick-or-treating remains sacred: costumes, candy, and delightful chaos.
Valentine’s Day gets its moment, too—love notes, heart-shaped snacks, and glitter explosions.

Every Mother’s and Father’s Day will mean handmade art—pipe cleaners, glue, and misspelled cards that I’ll keep forever.

On New Year’s Eve, there will always be a kiss—whether it’s on sleepy foreheads or amid balloon-drop giggles.

And when July rolls around, we’ll head to Traverse City for the 4th—cherries in the air, the Cherry Festival buzzing downtown, and the glow of the Cherry Bowl Drive-In wrapping the night in nostalgic gold. I can’t wait to share that with my girls.

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🌕 New Traditions I’m Excited to Start

Just because it’s new doesn’t mean it isn’t sacred.

🎅 Santa brings the books, parents bring the tech. Santa’s magical, but I want credit where credit’s due—and this keeps expectations grounded.

💀 Día de los Muertos Dinner. A night to light candles, share stories, and honor the people we’ve loved and lost (see my The Screaming Eagle & The Coolest Lady blog for specific dishes).

🎂 Birthday Magic. Until they can plan their own, I’ll be unapologetically extra. Fairy-tale-levels of extra. Once they’re older, they’ll choose—two small solo adventures or one big shared one.

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Because here’s the thing about traditions—they aren’t about perfection. They’re about connection.
They’re the quiet rituals that whisper: You matter. This matters. We’re in this together.

One day, I hope my girls will tell their kids,

“My mom made the best pizzelles… and the weirdest pickle-in-the-tree game you’ve ever seen.” 🖤