Sorry, y’all. I went to the beach for a whole week for Thanksgiving. I suppose blogging (as well as reading others’ blogs) fell by the wayside. It was an awesome trip. The weather was as fantastic as a beach can be in November. Everyone got along. No drama. The kids had an amazing time. I had a whole post running in my head about being thankful – that I have plenty to eat, that I got to spend Thanksgiving at the beach surrounded by family, that the closest my kids get to explosions are what’s on Spongebob, but it seems obvious and trite now. Now, it’s time to change gears.
We transitioned immediately to Xmas, pulling back into town at 1:00 and heading out to Home Depot to buy our tree by 2:00. By 3:00, I was inside “decorating” with the kids while Will cussed and drank beer and wine outside, hanging lights and rigging up my inflatables. We had to get rid of the snowman this year. He was yellow – urine yellow. That’s not festive. Now we have a Xmas pig. Don’t ask me why. It was just random, cheap, and seemed to go with Santa, Joy the Reindeer, Holiday Hello Kitty, and the merry C3PO and R2D2 combo.
Y’all, I had this vision – this warm, fuzzy vision – of decorating the tree with my children. They’re old enough now, right? No, I and I alone would hang the Christopher Radko ornaments, as well as anything else precious and super-delicate, but anything metal or wood was perfect for them. I even let them try a couple of blown glass ornaments. Within about 10 milliseconds, they each shattered one. 15 minutes later, a Wedgwood ornament was pulverized. I managed to hold them off by sending them to “their” tree – a 3′ baby blue fake tree with pink lights – with the lesser ornaments, but soon they were back to “my” tree. Stella demanded to wear her stocking. It was chaos. It was hell.
I finally sent them to the trampoline to jump in the setting sun where they proceeded to whack each other with plastic bats, taking turns crying “he/she hit me.” I was so annoyed I didn’t intervene. I just put my head down and hung the rest of the f($&#ing ornaments. Ho ho ho. And the tree looks like crap. I mean, I’ll never ever win any kind of decorating awards, but this tree is jacked up. I blame the kids.
Yes, I can now say with some authority that decorating a Xmas tree with small children is a special kind of hell.