As a child, we had several weekly traditions. Wednesdays were the nights mom worked, so dad was in charge of dinner … and, also, dessert. Which was great because his office was across the street from the Hostess outlet in Natick, Mass.

Saturday morning also meant pancakes. Every. Single. Week.

Something really big had to be going on to miss them. In my home, we do them from time to time. Today, being the first Saturday of the year, we broke out the griddle and mixed up my wife’s gluten free batter, mixed in some bananas and dug down deep.

As we set off into another year, another adventure around the sun, here’s to traditions new and old.

The children returned from a week with their father. Their two suitcases stuffed, and two other full-size suitcases with … who knows what … that we were told to “bring extra bags” for. I went the large plastic bin route, and filled two of them.

Their Christmas may have been all about The Stuff, but they’re home now where we lean towards pizza night, movies and sending them to bed before midnight … then listening to them whine for an hour about it.

Welcome home, kids. Just don’t leave your new stuff on the floor or it will be disposed of.

Yes, while New England is under a blizzard warning with predictions of 15-20 inches of snow and my beloved Syracuse set records for the amount of snow in December before getting to the start of winter, we have it worse. Much worse.

It’s a total disaster here. Walk outside and you hear the wailing of woodland creatures. Or maybe the neighbor’s feral cats. And there’s a tree down!

Oh, the floranity!

So far, we have consumed all six gallons of milk and five loaves of bread today. We’re also down to our last three dozen eggs … we are concerned. Because of this, we are venturing out to friends for dinner later on. They report an ample supply of smoked turkey.

Okay, so maybe it’s not that bad out there … but the dog is not amused.

… my wife is a better person than anyone I know.

Saturday was supposed to see us handing off the kids to their biological father for a week with us picking them up on Christmas Day in New England. The intervening week was supposed to have us traveling north, seeing family and friends along the way, then spending time with the kids and extended family in Massachusetts and New York, then back home around New Years.

I won’t lie: I was really looking forward to this trip. While my mother was here in September and my brothers surprised me with a birthday visit earlier this month, I haven’t seen my sister since here wedding 15 months ago. Same for my sisters-in-law, brother-in-law and nephews. For some of my northern friends, I haven’t seen them in over two years.

But the boy child has been sick and his doctor recommended against his flying this weekend. Then the girl child caught the flu and, in a manner only a tween could manage, did everything she could to hang on to it for a few extra days. So they didn’t leave, we aren’t leaving and all the travel plans have been scrapped.

Their father decided to change his plans and pick them up on Christmas Eve and take them north for a week or more, leaving my wife without her kids on Christmas for the first time ever. We won’t see any of her family, any of my family or any of our friends this break.

It just sucks.

She’s been running the boy around to appointments for the last few weeks while working through her busiest time of the year. (Including staying up all night with him during a miserably failed “sleep study.”)

Still, when I said I was heading out on an errand, something in her brain clicked and she said wait, she had some things for me to donate to Toys for Tots. She dug through her gift closet, pulled things she had picked up cheaply on clearance and deep discounts, and we filled the back of my car with toys.

She’s not seeing her family this holiday season. She’s not seeing my family, any of our friends or her own kids on Christmas and yet she remembered she had these things to give away, to give to those whose need is greater still than hers.

Even on the worst of days, she’s a better person than me.

These images, while all shot this morning, are probably not related.

Someone broke into the college over the weekend and, as I wandered around to see if anything was awry, I stumbled across the remains of a gathering.