when your Christmas tree dies before Christmas
On the day after Thanksgiving we put on our shorts and went out to get our Christmas tree. Having moved from Wisconsin earlier this year, this was a novelty to us. We didn't get to cut our own tree like we used to in Wisconsin, instead we bought a beautiful (albeit expensive) Christmas tree from a nice couple who had set up a lot by the mini-golf place. We skipped the mini-golf, tied that tree on our 15 passenger van and headed for home to set it up. It was gorgeous, full, fragrant, the perfect height. I was excited as we decorated and got ready for our first Christmas in our new home.
We watered the tree, daily. But our dry climate won out. Apparently we should have gotten our tree a humidifier (what-what?). By midway through December, the tree was very obviously not alive. Its branches drooped stiffly and it didn't drink the water we put in the tree stand. To be honest, I felt a lot like my tree.
I had started out full of joy, ready to share the gift of Christ, excited about the days to come. I had planned some encouraging Christmas blog posts, signed up for some Christmas activities in our new community and had begun to plan Advent activities for our family. By the time Christmas rolled around, though, I felt like that stiff droopy tree, sure, the needles were still green and the tree was still standing, but I was tired and overwhelmed. I may have been keeping it together on the outside, but inside I was considering what it would take to celebrate Christmas alone, on a desert island. I'm sure there's some really great spiritual application in all of this, but mostly I just want to be real with you. While all of what I wrote in my December blog posts is true, I have to be honest about what was going on behind the scenes. So get ready, because here comes the really, really real.
After we got our dying tree, we decided to put lights up on the outside of our house. WonderHubs was so excited about this that he climbed up on the roof while I was doing laundry. He fell off. Very Clark Griswold, in fact he was wearing a Clark Griswold shirt that day. On his way down he tried to stop himself by grabbing onto the gutter. He didn't rip any tendons and his fingers are healing nicely. We had a fun afternoon in the emergency room and I vowed not to do laundry again until after Christmas, you know, just to make sure everyone stayed safe.
We made it through the next week or two with only the obligatory doctors visits to check on WonderHubs' finger, the daily wrapping of the fingers in the most festive colored bandages I could find, and one kid cutting their own hair. And then Christmas break started for the kids.
In our wonderful new schools, Christmas break starts in mid-December and goes right into January. Amazing. The tiny dog was so excited about it all that he jumped off the roof on the first day of break. Seriously. What is the deal with the roof this Christmas?!? He was uninjured and the kids took really good care of him over the next few days.
That same day, my littlest person, who is allergic to peanuts, ate a bite of a peanut butter cup. Cue panic and Benadryl. He is also, thankfully, fine.
By the end of the weekend, I'd come up with a brilliant plan to get through the week before Christmas. We'd keep the house clean, bake cookies, do the fun Christmas-y things. I gathered some visual aids and my oldest 4 while distracting the younger ones with the Kratt brothers. As I began to lay out my genius plan, hands went up, eyes began to roll, voices began to say, "But, Mom," and the little one who would have rather watched Paw Patrol spilled an entire container of sprinkles on the floor.
Before I knew what was happening, someone was yelling, "That's enough. You can all just clean. Just go. Make this house perfect." Someone asked how long they had to clean for. The voice yelled, "Until your father gets home!" Then someone had the nerve to use my handwriting to add to Sunday's page of our plan: We can't be kind, considerate or respectful, so today we will CLEAN.
Monday went better. We made some cookies. Not the ones we'd planned on making because someone had eaten all the ingredients for those, but we made cookies. We also went to the zoo...at night...to see the light displays and some animals. That sounds awesome, doesn't it? And we went with friends! So cool. Six of our kids have the coolest parents. The oldest two were over the zoo and would've rather sat in the car than follow their little sibling around the zoo. I snapped this picture of WonderHubs and our sassy teenager. (You really have no idea how amazing this is...my dad always wears hats like WonderHubs is wearing and well, she is just a mini-me, so it's all kids of awesome).
The week actually passed without any more major disasters (if you don't count staying up until 2am wrapping things a disaster). We didn't have to go to the emergency room again. We're calling that a win at this point.
We did however, have Christmas cookies and Advent candy. If you're wondering, this is what a three year old looks like at Advent reading after a full day of refusing to eat meals and only stealing Christmas cookies and Advent candy.
Christmas Eve. I kid you not, church was like an Abbott and Costello routine. Just in our row, not the whole service. The lady behind us was so understanding and I was so thankful that she laughed at the antics instead of glaring at us like we probably deserved. My littlest loved Christmas this year. He was so excited to sing "Joy to the World." He jumped and danced like he was at a rave. He sang his heart out, just without words, so mostly he just shouted. A middle child brought two large dinosaurs and a laser tag gun with him. There were several trips in and out of the service. We had to make kids switch seats, during which they would stand up, look at us, gesture wildly to see which way to go and then walk back and forth over their siblings three times before sitting back down exactly where they were before, next to a sibling who was making them crazy. I'd like to take this moment to thank the Children's Ministry workers who keep our children out of our row each week. You are amazing humans!
We had pizza with friends (yay!) and opened Christmas Eve pajamas. WonderHubs started making the sauce for the lasagna he makes each year and I took the kids to look at Christmas lights and pick up Chinese food. Three hours later I returned with a screaming three year old, 7 excited people loudly singing Christmas carols and the Chinese food. We put the kids to bed, finished up the Christmas Eve things and were in bed by midnight.
The kids were up at 12:46am. We sent them back to bed. They ate candy from their stockings. They came back to our room. They jumped up and down. They squealed. They shouted joyfully about presents. WonderHubs took them downstairs to watch Christmas movies at 4am so they wouldn't wake up their little brother, or their mother who might have looked up flights to desert islands earlier in the week.
We read our last Advent reading on the day after Christmas, because 12:46am. It was really uplifting, as you can tell.
Two days after Christmas, the dead tree was gone. There were times over the past month, that I couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all and times I wept because it was all just too much. And that was the reality of December for me. It was fun and crazy and hard and wonderful. It was the reason that I wanted to ponder what Mary treasured up in her heart. It was why I needed to remind myself that everything I do needs to be filtered in the love that sent His Son to save us. It's why I needed to stay focused on where my soul would feel it's worth. And even though I miss the mark on those things a thousand times a day, grace and hope.
