It's Beginning to Look a Little Like Christmas

Hooray! Matt's back and it's time to celebrate. We were finally able to go pick out a tree and pour on the Christmas cheer. We wrestled on whether to endure the frustration and migraines of re-setting up the fresh, tipped-over Christmas tree seven times a day, or to commit the eternal sin and assume the disgrace of the plastic, fraudulent version. After dealing with denial and the other stages of grief, we finally caved and decided we would bring shame to our family, knowing full well that from henceforth our names would be spotted forever. But for 23 bucks, screw it- an artificial tree it is! Ultimately it turns out we're both lazy and cheap. Who knew? (That was rhetorical, so shut up.) It's not even one of those well-disguised, somewhat realistic trees that almost fools you into believing. Rather, the designer of this particular tree was going for the illusive, "Unmistakably Bogus" effect. We decided to dive right in and embrace our shabby, synthetic celebration. Instead of traditional ornaments, we hot-glued hooks to the backs of "fun size" candy bars. (By the way, who do they think they're fooling, calling them "fun size?" I think we'd all admit that those dinky jokes are nowhere near our idea of a "fun size" piece of chocolate. Anyway...) Naturally, with these unique ornaments, we knew right away that we'd need LOTS of them. Now fully bedecked, our pitiful "tree" looks as if it's about to collapse under the weight of the ninety bags of candy we wired to its pathetic branches. Snickers, M&M's- (peanut and original), Twix bars, Reese's peanutbutter cups, Milky Ways, Hershey kisses- (two different kinds), and the standard Hershey's assortment of Krackle, milk chocolate, dark chocolate, and Mr. Goodbar. An impressive lot, to be sure. This poor, miserable tree may not make it to next year. But despite how sad it looks, at least it's appetizing. And pre-lit, if you can believe that (for 23 bucks!). Matt even made a beautiful Twix angel for the top. (I told him that was a little much, but like I'm in charge of anything.) You're probably wondering how I plan to keep the children from stripping the tree clean of its goodies. Well the answer is simple. I don't know. But so far (two whole days now) it's gone surprisingly well with Jesse. He likes to take the "ornaments" off and rehang them, but I haven't caught him yet with a chocolate mustache. Gabe is another story. He's more than happy to nearly yank the tree over in order to pull off one of its irresistible sweets. Often I catch him and prevent the theft, but once in a while he'll walk up to me with a goofy, proud, giddy smile, covered in brown drool, and his tongue will push a chewed foil wrapper out onto his shirt. I admit it; I laugh. It's funny. And gross. But still funny. I just hurry and clean him up before Jesse sees and demands a treat of his own- (I'm trying to convince him to take a break and eat actual food once in a while). Then I follow the trail back to the scene of the crime and scrub the syrupy chocolate slobber out of the carpet. (Seriously, what would I do without the steam cleaner? Every surface in the house would be incurably sticky forever.)
I've already been authorized to play a small amount of Christmas music, mostly while Matt's at work, but a little bit even when he's at home. If ever there ever was a real life Scrooge, Matt would shame him with his detest for Christmas-everything. He can tolerate a tree (for about ten days), and will even put up with a little Christmas music- on the actual holiday. Not the day after Thanksgiving, not Christmas Eve, not any other day (with the one exception of hymns at church. I think even he thinks it sounds pretty coming from the chapel). Anyway, he's been really good about it this year, enduring much more cheer than usual. I think we both feel obligated to participate more in the festivities this year, now that Jesse's old enough to care. Last year Matt humored me and took me to a very rural tree farm that was run by a tiny, ancient man, who I really wanted to pay for his efforts. So Matt lovingly but unhappily indulged me, and boy did that turn out to be a disaster. I didn't think we'd ever overcome the catastrophe. The little old man was very nice, and very senile, and very opinionated. We tipped him huge and brought home what I refered to as our Christmas Bush. We took the one the little old man insisted was the best we'd find in the eastern U.S. It was the only breed he grew. The thing was horrible. Shaped like a horizontal shrub with a tiny peak at the top, this disease of a plant was hideous, terribly-scented, and actually drew blood if you came within three inches of it. That was a real problem, with a curious 18-month-old running around. The pricks the bush gave you were not only deep, but were coated with some hellish oil from the needles that would cause your skin to redden and swell in unbelievable pain, and you couldn't wash the stuff off with turpentine. I've ventured now as far down memory lane as I can allow myself to go, otherwise the nightmares will start up again. My point is that our experience couldn't have been much worse last year, especially when coupled with the fact that after two days without the use of toilets, we were forced to spend our Christmas money to have our septic tank pumped. I really have to move on now or the terror will envelop me again. Now you understand why I've been so pleasantly surprised at Matt's nearly-delightful attitude this year; I simply didn't think he'd ever get over that fiasco. This year things worked out that the day we set up our tree happened to be Matt's birthday, but he was a great sport about it and even seemed to enjoy the whole production. I've found that I'm also enjoying this season much more than I usually do. My anticipation of the kids seeing their gifts on Christmas morning is practically keeping me up at night! I've spent time almost every day this last week driving someplace to pick up some special item for the boys. (That yard sale website is a life-saver!) And it's been fun, too, to try and keep it all a secret from the kids and not let them see their presents. There have been a couple of close calls that actually got my heart rate up. That's how invested I am. I know it's silly, but I can't contain myself. And it's been so funny to watch J's reaction to the different experiences that come with the holidays. Of course the biggest event so far has been the discovery of the Grinch. We've been reading it every night before bed for a couple weeks, and a few days ago Jes had his first encounter with the movie. We caught it on tv about halfway through, and J was so excited that he totally FREAKED OUT everytime the camera panned over to Whoville and "Drinch" wasn't in the frame. "Where Drinch go? Where Drinch, Mama?!!! WHERE DRINCH GO???!!!" The commercials were life-ending. It was hilarious; he was just hysterical. His grandma and Grandpa sent the dvd of it out here and he watches it as often as I can be persuaded. Unlike other children, Jesse loves the Grinch himself. He does not side with the Whos; he wants the Drinch to take all their toys and keep them. It's to the point now that when it gets to the part in the movie when the Grinch turns nice, Jesse loses interest and walks away. I'm not even kidding. And he has a crush on "Loo Who," as he calls her. Did you guys know that the Grinch movie is only 26 minutes long? When I was a kid it was about two and a half hours. I'd bet my life on it. Anyway, this year, Christmas at our house has been awesome, and we're not even there yet. Our tree may look like a wretched pile of garbage and our son may be rooting for the villainous foe of the season, but who cares? We're having fun. Hopefully someday we'll celebrate things a little more traditionally, and the kids will appreciate the "Reason for the season," but for now, screw it. We like things messy. It's just our way.