We successfully decorated for Christmas yesterday. Joshua has not yet destroyed the emblems of festivity. In fact, he hasn’t really been interested in the tree at all. Cool. However, there are no shiny, pretty packages under the tree yet. I’m sure once those appear he’ll get more curious.
I love the tree. Love it. It’s beautiful. It might just be our most beautiful tree yet. I gave in to colored lights instead of white and I have to say, the tree looks more festive.
Dan’s family has always had what he calls a “junk tree.” There’s a random string of chili pepper lights, several birds, and an ornament made from a cigarette butt that adorn the branches of the tree at Dan’s parents’ house. My mom’s tree, when she puts one up, is filled with store-bought Precious Moments and Looney Tunes ornaments. And, when she can find them, ornaments my brother and I made in school (but she always manages to find HIS ornaments and not MY ornaments [but she says she doesn’t know which is which, but I know. I KNOW.] which leads to feelings of rivalry rearing their ugly heads, even though I’m the Golden Child and he’s a screw-up). Oh wait…what was I talking about??
Oh yes. The tree. There were times growing up when we couldn’t afford a tree, so I’d draw one on paper and hang it in the living room window. I still remember how that felt and I don’t want Joshua to ever feel that.
When I went off to college, I was DETERMINED to have a tree in my first apartment, even though my roommate didn’t seem to care if we had one or not, because there’s just something about a Christmas tree that makes a place feel home-y. I was broke. And I REALLY wanted a tree. And a kid in my biology class was a slacker. So he paid me $50 to be his partner for an assignment (GET YOUR MINDS OUT OF THE GUTTER PEOPLE!…oh god…I just realized this was a genetics project. Wow…HILARIOUS!) and teach him what we were supposed to know for our final. (I’m seriously chuckling over this…why? I have no idea.) So I took my $50, bought a PINE tree for $20 (yes, a pine tree) and shoved it into the trunk of my Corolla, spent the remaining $30 on the cheapest red and silver ornaments I could find, and went on my merry decorating way. I had my tree, damnit.
And I’ve had a tree every Christmas since then because the Christmas tree means that much to me.
And it can’t be a fake tree, either. I don’t understand people who are gung-ho fake tree afficionados. I don’t get it at all. I don’t care that you’re a neat-freak and you don’t like the little needles getting in your carpet. Fake trees aren’t REAL.
So, taking Joshua to pick out his first Christmas tree yesterday was so much fun. Even though it was so cold and he was so bundled up he reminded us of the younger brother from A Christmas Story. And decorating it and figuring out which ornaments weren’t breakable and could go on the bottom was fun. I love Christmas.