Every year we decorate the Christmas tree as a family. Sharing custody of the kiddos means we have to plan it for a weekend we are together which is really no big deal.
MOST years, the tree we put up is a green tree with multi-colored lights and decorations that span the generations. On this tree are ornaments from my grandmother, ones my mom made when she and my dad were first married, ornaments I made as a kid and now gems created by my two boys. It’s always fun as we carfully pull out each ornament and talk about the memories it brings back and how we remember where each one came from.
Most years, the eldest climbs a ladder because I’m terrified to do it, and hangs the lights around the roof of our house. We plug them into timers so that each and every night when we drive in, we see the house lit up from the inside and out.
Most years I break a few (dozen) bulbs on the ground as we untangle the lights to prepare them for hanging and will find colored shards in the lawn still to this day.
That is most years.
But this year, all of those ornaments and lights and yard decorations are staying safely tucked away in the back of my storage unit.
This year my kiddos and I are decorating the tree at Nana’s house. This year the oohs and aahs were of a different sort as they carefully placed each and every valuable and BREAKABLE ornament on a branch… but not THAT branch because Nana thinks it should go over there… no no… a little higher.
Different doesn’t mean worse. Just different.
And of course, the dog had to help out too…
that’s helpful right?