This post is sponsored by Grains for your Brain, a resource provided by the Grain Foods Foundation. Did you know, consuming whole grains helps to reduce blood pressure, vascular disease, obesity, cholesterol, and type 2 diabetes (source). Bring on the scones. As always, all opinions are my own. Sponsored posts such as this help to fund grocery trips, sweet new recipes, and ongoing site maintenance.  

We’ve been talking a lot about traditions lately—traditions we want to start in our family. Up until now, the conversation never crossed our mind. Apart from decorating the tree the day after Thanksgiving, we don’t have many. Usually we head home for Christmas (either my house or his) and pick up the traditions we left off with there. They’re ours but not ours. 

I’m not a gift giver. Spending just to spend hurts my insides, and coming up with solid (creative) ideas is like pulling teeth for me. It’s safe to say giving gifts is not my gift. But we want to give Hal the gift of traditions.

I want to give her snowy magical nights. Homemade hot chocolate and marshmallows to get warm. Twinkling lights on a tree and around the house. Christmas movies she’ll watch for years to come. Presents that will paint the biggest smile across her face.

But more than just presents under the twinkling tree, we want to teach her to give. (A lesson we need to learn ourselves. Badly.) I always say—to whom much is given, much is expected. But rarely do I practice it. I can’t teach this to Hal until I first learn it myself.

We talked about doing a couple service projects with her. But then criticized our idea for only wanting to do service projects around Christmas. This seems to be the problem of Christmas. It’s only a season. A season I look forward to every year. A season I’m always sad to bid farewell. But a season none the less.

It’s like a diet. It pokes and prods us to clean up our bad habits (sweet treat eating aside). We do it for a month and even begin to feel good about ourselves. But like clockwork, we go back to our old ways come the first of January. The good cheer. The giving spirit. The twinkling lights. And the magic. They disappear.

As I think about what I want to give Hal over a scone and coffee, I wonder—what if “Christmas” became a lifestyle?

That’s almost too big of a thought for me to handle right now in between feedings, diaper changes, dirty stacked dishes, and gifts still needing to be bought. My head is still stuck in the fog most days. But as it starts to burn off, I hope I’ll think more about this question. I’ll try not to save it just for December. In the meantime, I’m adding cranberry orange scones to the Christmas season baking line up. That’s one thing that needs little thought.

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Base scone recipe inspired by Love, Cake.