I am not an overly sentimental person. I don't put a lot of value in things; I am not terribly attached to Precious Moments figurines or collector plates or souvenir thimbles. I don't dress up my pets.
I have never purchased a home decor item simply because it was really cute.
And yet, twice a year - first at Halloween and again at Christmas, I am reduced to a squealing little girl at the prospect of setting up the holiday village. Wee houses and figurines and things that whirl and light up - they bring me more joy than any inanimate object should. Every time I yell "DON'T TOUCH THE VILLAGE!" to the children (which they do anyway), I think to myself, in another ten years I am going to be on one of those shows. Women who continue to set shit up 'for the kids' when the kids are in their 40s.
The Halloween village technically belongs to Katie. But until she moves out and takes it away from me, it's mine. One day - when I don't have kids who want to eat the inedible and break all breakables, I will add a water feature and multiple levels and mountains carved from styrofoam and...well, you get the picture. For now, it's still pretty cool. The best part is watching the children just sit and stare and smile. I wonder if it will be something they talk about when they're old and I'm gone - remember when mom would set up the village every year?
16 hours ago