Is it just me, or is a damn-near-needle-less pine tree in a living room one of the most depressing sights EVER? It just sits in the corner, amidst a sea of scattered pine needles, and we don’t even bother to put the lights on any more. It’s huge. It’s dark, and it’s lurking in the shadows. I feel like it’s mocking me, laughing at the fact that I just put it up and decorated the damn thing, and now I can’t seem to find the time to take ever last one of those precious, fragile, numerous keepsake ornaments off the freakin’ tree.
The worst part is, I feel like with the hustle of December, I barely got to just park my backside on the couch and revel in the twinkling joy that is a live real Christmas tree. Instead of basking in the (literal) glow of our tree, I feel like I spend the month of December running around like a nut. I really don’t think I’m alone. I’m sure I am not the only one who’s almost cracked under the pressure of the hustle-and-bustle weeks leading up to the big day.
However, all in all, this Christmas was spectacular. I’ll take the stress-filled, overwhelming feeling and the crying to my husband, and I’ll raise ya a butt load of beautiful Christmas memories of the first real Christmas the little one had. This 2016 Christmas season was the first time I felt she really started to get it. She did. She got it. All the joys of the holiday season were soaked up by that cute little booger. That, my friends, is worth all the naked, depressing post-Christmas trees in the world.