Growing up, my parents weren’t much for traditions; particularly, western traditions. We were a religious family, attending church on Sunday and participating in the fellowship that followed, and while we did exchange gifts at Christmas without ever referring to “Santa Claus” in any way, the concept of an Easter basket or a Christmas stocking was one that my parents either had no interest in, or didn’t know much about.
When my kids were born, I was determined not to succumb to the “excess” that these goodie-bags bring about. I declared in the first year that I was not going to fill stockings or baskets full of unnecessary loot. At “Baby’s First Christmas”, we hung stockings that never got filled – we have yet to fill the stockings with anything as I honestly just like the way it looks hanging from the fireplace mantle more than anything else. The first two years of my kids’ lives, the Easter Bunny was just a terrifying creature that we would see at the mall. This year, however, I changed my mind and decided that the Easter bunny was going to become part of our annual family tradition.