Dec 14, 2009
We put the tree up yesterday. It was very strange to do it without the kids there. Every year each of kids would pull their favorite ornaments from the box and hang them carefully on the tree. Somehow we always ended up talking about memories from Christmases past. This year it was just me replaying those memories in my head. The husband is a bigger fan of Thanksgiving than he is of Christmas. Tinsel was always the last step. My daughter thinks she is the best tinseller in the family. She is probably right, being so precise and particular comes in handy for tinsel. Too much is gaudy and too little is not noticeable.
Last year we bought a beautiful fake pre-lit tree. I had always been one of those holier than thou “Only a real tree will do” type person. But like so many other things, practicality begins to overtake aesthetics the older you get. (This phenomenon also explains the popularity of the comfortable, yet ridiculous looking, Snuggie.) We have a burnt out bulb that has blacked out the lights on the mid section of the tree. Ugghhh. Going to have to pull out bulb by bulb til I find the culprit.
One thing that stayed the same was the dogs being underfoot while the tree is being put up. Even though it’s an annual thing, they never know what to make of all the commotion. This year was especially confusing for them since we moved the tree to a new corner of the family room.
So here I sit, wrapped up in my Snuggie, looking at my beautiful, half lit tree, adjusting to the changes in my family this Christmas and fighting the urge to buy the dogs some presents to go under the tree. If I thought they’d care the urge would be irresistible. I wonder when this will feel normal.