Well, ok, that’s a Christmas tree. Which we put up, because yesterday
we actually had time to do it, and not in between rushing to one thing
and racing off to another. Of course, one reason that we can do that
is that what you see there is a big ole FAKE tree. Yep, right here in
New England. I grew up in the south, with a very practical mother and
an allergy to pine trees, and I just have nothing invested in the
ritual that is the buying of the real tree. Honestly, I wouldn’t even
know how. How would I get it onto the car? How would I get it off?
(Christmas trees being high on Rob’s official list of "things that are
your problem.") Plus, don’t you need to water them? Uh-uh. This tree
came with the lights already on, and in my house, the inserting of the
fake branches into the fake tree trunk was an annual ritual. So I’m
actually fulfilling a family tradition.
And starting one. Rob actually put it up, (so I really shouldn’t have
mocked him before) while Sam bounced excitedly along and I leaned on
the wall moaning that I didn’t feel so good. And we hung a few
ornaments, and left most of it for another day. This will actually be
our first time doing our own Christmas–we have always gone to my
parents house before. So we’ll be starting lots of things anew, and
from the very small store of wisdom I’ve accumulated in my 8 years of
parenting, I remind myself to start small, take it easy and keep the
focus on the things I really want to do, not the things I ought to do.
And while we definitely put the tree up early, I’m feeling like that
gives us this nice clean slate for doing other things, like making
gifts and mailing things and baking and general holiday jollification.
It’s all good.
sent from my iPhone