O (Splendid) Christmas Tree

I blame it on the tree.

Of course, I caved. When the artificial tree that had been trucking along for the last decade finally gave up the ghost on Friday, and the Husband made his proclamations about substandard trees, he said to me - "I can get us a tree for fifteen bucks."

I told him if he could find a tree stand for free, he was welcome to get a live tree.

Saturday morning, he and the children went off to retrieve our tree, which would be - no doubt - some back lot model. Fifteen bucks, I was not expecting much. Two hours later, we stood back looking at the first live tree we've had since we've had children, and even I had to admit -

It is a glorious tree.

I undecorated the artificial tree and started stringing lights on the real tree. I would repeat The Husband's words many times over the next two days - "It will take an hour, tops." Three hours, a trip to the drugstore and an extension cord later, the lights were finally done.  Fake feathers and orange flowers don't lend themselves to a true tree, so I packed them away and decided to get creative.

The next morning, I popped two huge bowls of popcorn and the girls and I got to stringing.

 

 Predictably, Katie did about 10 inches of garland and declared herself 'done'. Julia managed about three times that, and Henry just came in and threw popcorn all over the kitchen. Somehow, I didn't even mind that my house looked like this all day.

And when everyone else had gone on to more important things, I sat, stringing popcorn. I didn't mind. And when my hands cramped up, I stopped and made ornaments. 

People, I do not craft. I don't know what came over me. I don't know if it was the smell of the pine tree or the sap on my fingers, or if the Husband had slipped some Christmas crack into my coffee. But I really got into it. 

I made these:

And these:

And, because I felt we needed a new topper, more in keeping with the new spirit taking hold, I made this:

I used a children's art book from the 1950s, because I loved the illustrations and the little bits of color. I folded and taped the pages together into a circle, then stitched the center together. I SEWED. Twice, in one day, if you count stringing the popcorn. I used the falling off cover and a couple of clothespins to secure the back and attach it to the tree.

WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME?

Every year, the pile of presents grows larger. Our annual Christmas Eve party gets more extravagant. My stress level gets higher, and my Christmas cheer gets decidedly lower. 

This year, the present pile is much smaller. We decided against the party - partly due to time and money, and partly due to the fact that we found ourselves focusing too much on THE EVENT, and too little on our family. We have spent the past several months making a concerted effort to live more simply, and the past few days is the first time I have felt the difference. 

One week before Christmas, and I am not stressed at all. One week before Christmas, and I happily sat stringing popcorn in my pajamas all day long. That stupid tree is making me feel all warm and fuzzy and Christmas-y. 

I hate it when the Husband is so very right. 

O (Substandard) Christmas Tree

"The Christmas tree is the centerpiece of Christmas, and ours is completely substandard. And I am not having that."

Last year, the lights on the artificial tree started to go bad. We bought a little gizmo that fixed them right up, and so we rolled on, our artificial tree rocking for another year. Then this year, the lights started getting funky within a few days of putting the tree up. We pulled out the gizmo, and the gizmo didn't work.

Each day, we've lost a few more lights. The tree currently stands about 1/3 lit, with a week left until Christmas.

"I think we should go out and buy a real tree." The Husband says. I arch an eyebrow his way. "Just take the decorations off, we'll get a tree, and you can redecorate it. It'll take an hour, tops." he says.

"You are out of your fucking mind." I say.

Tonight, he gets a text message and looks over at me and smiles, "I think I can get a free tree."

"Oh, really?" I say. "For what?"

"This is bullshit!" he says, and then uses the line about the tree being the centerpiece of Christmas.

"We can just wrap some more lights on it." I say, because I know there is no way in hell it will take me an hour to un-decorate, then re-decorate, the tree.

"I'll take it all down and re-do it." He says.

Over my dead body. Decorating the primary tree has been MY job since we first got a tree, and there's no way I'm going to let him screw it up, with his plastic tinsel and popcorn on a string.

Then I'm sitting here tonight, looking at our pitiful, half dark tree, and I start thinking: Maybe that would be fun. Maybe I could let the kids spend a day stringing popcorn and cranberries and making paper chains and let them decorate the tree. What is happening to me? Have I lost my mind?

What do you think?