Sleeping peacefully in my calm grey room, I am startled as I wake up and see my younger sister tugging at my blankets. As I start to get annoyed that she’s waking me up so early on one of the few days I have to sleep in, I remember something. It’s Christmas Eve, a day full of activities and relaxation with the whole family! Sitting up on my forearms with my legs stretched out as far as they can reach, I ask my sister why she’s in my room so early since we don’t do anything until later in the day. She responds with, “I wanted to know if you would go on the trampoline with me.”

I chuckle at the thought of playing outside in December, pull my blankets back over my shoulders and go to sleep while my sister lays restlessly beside me.

“Vanessa, Mia, breakfast is ready!” I hear my mom calling us from the kitchen. Mia shoots out of bed the second she smells the cinnamon buns and bacon we have every Christmas Eve morning. I run behind her, nearly falling on my pajama pants that are just a bit too long. Walking into the kitchen I see our parents talking to my grandmother who flew in from Israel to spend the holidays with us, along with my three other sisters munching on the freshly cooked meal.

After eating breakfast as a family (something that only happens about twice a year), everyone parts ways and I go on the couch to watch movies and relax. Though the house is quieter than usual, you can feel the joy and anticipation running through it.

The middle of the day is almost at a standstill, as everyone is taking a break from the stresses of everyday life and relaxing with one another. Everyone, that is, except for my mom. Behind the paneled glass doors to her bedroom, sealed shut with curtains, she is frantically finishing up gift-wrapping to ensure that we all have the most memorable holiday possible. Little does she know that all of us kids are more excited to be together than we are to receive gifts tomorrow.

“Jordan and Bella hurry up. We don’t want to miss the movie!” my dad shouts, already halfway out the door while my sisters dilly-dally around the house. Every Christmas Eve my entire family goes out to see a movie and get pizza together. While this may seem like an ordinary family outing to others, it is a special tradition in our house because our hectic schedules prevent us from spending large chunks of time together on other days of the year.
Once we get to the theater and get snacks, the eight of us settle into our seats and watch the newest movie released in theaters. Everyone stares intensely at the screen, except for my dad. I don’t think he has stayed awake for a whole movie in years.

We hustle out of the crowded movie theater, my mom with tears in her eyes from the animated children’s movie we just saw (I guess it must be a mom thing to cry at every movie with a good message). The rest of us discuss where the film ranked in comparison to other Christmas Eve movie outings. The drive to the pizza restaurant, Kinchley’s, is full of constant singing. Just imagine a car full of five girls, who may I add do NOT know how to sing, belting out the lyrics to Adele’s “Water Under the Bridge.” The car ride flies by for the five of us, but seems like an eternity to the adults.

After a nutritious meal of pizza and French fries along, with the inevitable teasing that turns into a minor argument every year, we hopped back into the car and headed home. I started to notice that people must think my sisters and I hate each other with all the constant bickering and yelling, but we would not have as much fun as we do, or be as close as we are without it.

Bailey, our dog, barks louder than the loudest dog on earth when he hears our car roll into the garage. He greets us at the door, sitting down for everyone to pet him as we walk in. We file into the kitchen at six thirty. Luckily, my mom has already gotten everything set for the rest of the night so all we have to do is get into our pajamas and hang out together before reading a story and dividing into our own rooms, waiting to see each other on Christmas morning.

After we congregate in the living room and each read a page of the Christmas story “The Night Before Christmas” to the family, we eat a few cookies that we made and were supposed to be left for Santa, and go upstairs to our rooms.

As I lay in bed about to fall asleep, I think, even though our Christmas Eve traditions may not be anything too fancy, it is still exciting to me to get to spend such a happy time of yea with the people that I love the most, my family.