A Christmas Tree Theory
Because the last seven years of my life has been spent either pregnant (puking) or chasing around a drooling baby I haven't had much success at trimming our Christmas tree. Usually, I go to the tree lot and find the most outrageous, strange tree I can find, buy it and hoist it home. My thought is that the shape of the tree covered in lights is a work of art in itself, and therefore, no ornamentation or tinsel is really required.
A couple weeks ago I started having nightmares about this year's Christmas. In my dreams the tree was pathetic, abandoned and blinded in purple and blue flood lights. Santa left nothing but crumbs. Christopher and I were fighting. Our children were underwhlemed. This vision occurred multiple times and left me feeling hopeless and dreading Christmas. And so I decided this year, to block my dreams from coming true we would go with a perfect Christmas tree, and this year, EVEN IF IT KILLED ME we would decorate the tannebaum.
Already I am thinking, this post makes it seem like I care way more about Christmas trees than I really actually do. Though somewhere along the way, I picked up this theory that Christmas trees herald in the season and foreshadow the season to come.
So yes, perhaps I DO think about Christmas trees far more than I should.
Anyway, so we bought a traditional shaped tree at a lot where they thanked us for supporting American agriculture and we brought it home. It took me all day and help from my inlaws, many swear words and a sore back, but by the end of the night it was glowing and glistening and the balls were perched in perfect order.
And it was boring.
After some problem solving discussion I decided it lacked...something...something. At midnight it occured to me that it needed some texture. TINSEL! IT NEEDED TINSEL! So Christopher and I took off on a run to WalMart leaving grandma and grandpa at home with the sleeping children. And we bought tinsel. Gold tinsel. And laughed all the way home about how ridiculous it all is--Christmas decorating and stressing over such things.
Really, so ridiculous.
We bought the tree one week ago today. Since that night it has tipped over three times, has been ripped of it's tinsel on many occasion, and more balls are scattered about my living room than actually on the boughs. Iris scoots herself under it and screams when she can't get out. I found Lego guys and a Lego airplane inside the branches this morning. Even with all our watering, the boughs are already starting to brown. And I keep adding more lights to it because I wanted to SHINE LIKE THE TOP OF THE CHRYSLER BUILDING. Because even though it's plump and fresh, traditional and tall, it's still...boring...to me.
Which means--according to my theory--this will be a boring Christmas. Which means MY DREAMS REALLY ARE COMING TRUE. SEE HOW THIS WORKS?
So next year, it's back to awkward Christmas trees. I've learned my lesson.