The days are just flying by now. Our activity on the 14th was to decorate the tree. I have thought about what I want to write about the process, one that should be happy, creative, family time, but I have to confess, I don’t enjoy decorating the tree. This is one activity I added to our list because the girls love doing it, not me.
I’ve been thinking about it and I can’t quite put my finger on why it is so. Clearly I must need therapy.
– I love the tree itself. I love picking out the tree, driving home with it strapped precariously to the roof of the car (or jutting out the trunk), the smell of the tree, the look of the tree, heck, I don’t even mind the inevitable Needle Drop. I love having a living tree in my living room. If I could I would have a tree all year round.
– I don’t mind unwrapping the decorations. It’s like a mini-Christmas, all those ornaments. There’s a feeling of anticipation with every unwrapping, with every reveal. The “Oh! Remember this one?” is a pretty good feeling.
– But then it all falls apart for me, on the inside. My heart deflates a little and just lies there, beating weakly. I asked Emma to put on a Christmas record, which she did. We sang along and I tried to put on a happy face. It didn’t do it for me.
At this time I am too easily annoyed by the girls hyper-excitement. Many of the ornaments are fragile and require a bit of special care. I know this now, when the girls are really happy and excited they act a little crazy, but I am ill-equipped to deal with it when the tree is on the scene.
I once swore I would never be the kind of overbearing/controlling parent who rearranges the decorations her children put on the tree. I told myself I would let my kids do what they wanted… creative expression and all that. (Mind you, I’m not the type of person who insists on having a colour-coordinated tree that looks like it came out of a catalogue.)
I tried, at the beginning, to sit back and watch, but I couldn’t help myself.
I didn’t reveal too much of my dissatisfaction (for lack of a better word) out loud: i.e. You can’t have two ornaments so close together! They need to hang! There’s a GAP right here. So I rearranged on the sly, or, when I was seen, I’d explain that the ornament I was holding needed a stronger branch. Sometimes this was true.
I don’t really like our tree lights. I have yet to find some LEDs that have the same twinkle and warmth that the old incandescents had, but I hate thinking about (and shelling out for) new ones.
As I sit here and think about it I realize that I would secretly like to come home (after partaking in some shortbread, fancy coffee, or an icy Baileys) – to a fully decorated tree, not having had anything to do with it.
Does this make me a scrooge or what? I hate that I can’t pull myself together. I hate that I can’t find the joy in decorating the tree with my loved ones.
Here’s the view from the couch, after all was said and done:
Okay. Enough about that.
Afterwards we made popcorn and watched an Eloise Christmas movie. It’s an okay film. I like the Eloise books, especially the illustrations, but I couldn’t figure out why, in the movie version, Julie Andrews was putting on a cockney accent. Is the nanny portrayed this way in the books? I also couldn’t help but wonder whether she’d had a face lift.
On the 15th we were supposed take an evening stroll with our lanterns but the weather didn’t agree. Instead we made cookies (brown sugar buttons) and watched Polar Express. There are some imaginative details that make this movie pretty special, and I liked it how it dealt with the idea of belief and disbelief. If you’re interested, Roger Ebert pretty much nailed it in his review.
Okay. Back to work.
p.s. this is part of my 25 days of Christmas challenge. It’s never too late to play along. And do consider joining our Flickr group too.
