Last weekend we put our Christmas tree up. Yes, we did. Before Thanksgiving, I know. And I think this was actually later than we have done it in years past. We love Christmas around here!
And when the pine needles had settled, I realized we all had a good time doing it this year.
And, yeah, sadly, that’s noteworthy.
There have been too many years that decorating the tree brought about yelling and tears. From me mostly. That’s good. I have distinct ideas of what a tree should look like. Or at least I did. And it didn’t involve plastic ornaments, multicolored lights, or randomness. I’m a little OCD. Or at least I was. I have the best therapists in the world for that. And they’re all under the age of 9.
Years ago, celebrating our first Christmas with a baby in the house my husband told me to get used to the idea of a Griswold Christmas. Absolutely not. Not in my house. We’d have 2 different trees if I had to and mine would adorn the living room, his would be hidden in a back room somewhere. And then he said the wisest words I’ve heard on the subject, “Okay, but the kids will like mine better.” After my initial reaction to defend my stance I reconsidered. He may be right. Someday. But we would see.
And see, we did. After several years of some of my special ornaments getting broken in the tree-trimming, and family beginning the beautiful tradition of giving each child their own ornament each year, combined with years of more and more children making paper ornaments and such that they were SO proud of, well, I caved. And learned.
Last year, as I packed up the tree I separated the ornaments into 2 boxes marked: Kids’ and Mama’s. So, this year when we brought it all out I set my special beloved beautiful things box on the counter and threatened them with all things bad to not touch it, then put their box on the floor, and promptly set my rear end on the couch, holding a sweet baby and turned them loose. They weren’t breaking my ornaments – I was happy. They were given freedom – they were happy.
Now my tree didn’t stay just like this:
I did come back when they were bored (and it was oh, so quickly) and put my own ornaments around the top and separated a few of theirs that were all hanging on one branch. But mostly I left it alone. I’m not entering any “perfect looking homes” contests. But I am aiming for “perfect home” memories. In the minds of my children. And I know that does not involve yelling or tears. Because, really, Christmas is about the joy. And this year, I found it.
Multicolored, gaudy and all.
That’s how I finally learned to do what we do. How do you capture the fun, keep your sanity, and decorate all at once?
