I used to love decorating the tree. I'd spend a whole evening making an event out of it. The first year Rick and I celebrated Christmas together, I tried to make him partake in my ritual. I think he made it to the part where I handed him hot chocolate, he finished his cup and hightailed it to the couch. I would take each decoration out and remember the special moments--the person I got it from, or the event I got it for. I would pick the perfect spot for the decoration: the newest ones usually displayed towards the front and the not so great ones displayed towards the back. I would make sure we had the tree at least 2 weeks ahead of Christmas and never would I take it down before New Years.
This year was different. This year we have a little walking terror. This year the tree was strategically placed on top of the coffee table, which is also strategically placed in the corner of the living room, to minimize the chances of Sophia hitting her head on a corner. This year, decorating had 3 parts to it: part 1 was during morning nap, part 2 was during afternoon nap, and part 3 completed the tree decoration after Sophia went to bed. There was no hot chocolate. There was no pomp and circumstance. Decorating the tree was an item to be checked off the list.
All my breakable ornaments were hung up at the very topmost part of the tree. Who knew I had so many breakable ornaments? All the ones I thought Sophia could possibly get a hold of with minimal collateral damage were toward the middle--but still out of reach, or so I thought. All the ones I secretly wished she'd be able to reach were at the bottom. Surprisingly, these all survived. Each day, sometimes twice a day, Sophia insisted we look at each and every ornament. I held her as she pointed to an ornament, and I recited what it was. This was cute the first time, maybe even the second and third. After 2 weeks, it got old. Even that was not enough for Sophia, as I'd catch her climbing up on the couch to reach for the ornaments. "Do not touch" became the catch phrase of each day, 50 times a day.
So the day after Christmas, I decided it was time to pack up and move out the dear Christmas tree. And it wasn't a day too soon either. I know I'll be able to reinstate my treasured Christmas tree dressing tradition one day, and hopefully Sophia will stay after the hot chocolate is served and reminisce with me. But until that day comes, so long Christmas tree and good riddance.
1 comment:
I'm with you. I told Chris we may not have been the first family in our neighborhood to get our lights up, but we'd be the first to have our tree on the curb. And so we did :) (sigh of relief!)
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