Our Kind of Normal: It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

Wow. It seems like the last time I wrote, I was talking about leaving town for Thanksgiving. I love December, but it always flies by. I have been excited to get my Christmas decorations up and adament that we were going to have a real tree in our house. (I'm pretty sure that was ok with Mike because the fake tree we own is buried deep in the closet under the stairs.) Regardless, after many days of nagging, Mike went to get our tree.

When I was growing up, we got the tree as a family. Everyone loaded into the station wagon and drove to (wherever) to pick out that perfect Frasier Fur that becomes the center of your home during the holidays. Looking back, I'm not sure it was really that fun. 5 people running different ways looking for trees? I do remember at one point we used to go to a Christmas tree farm a little ways away. My last memory is driving straight down the street to the local elementary school. I guess you do what you gotta do to maintain those traditions.

All this to say, Mike continued to inform me that in his home, the man picks out the tree. I was regaled with stories of his first job working at a nursery (seriously) and how he knows how to pick a tree. At first I argued, thinking this needed to be something that the two of us did together, but eventually I let him go. Not 5 minutes after he arrived he called, asking what sort of tree I wanted. I had to tell him he was the man and he was on his own.

He picked out a beautiful tree. This is what happened when he got home. I still don't know what he was doing, but I do know I never saw my dad doing this with our tree.

Yes, that is a miner's light that he has on his head. (It's amazing how handy those can be!)

Unfortunately, the decorations that covered our old tree didn't quite cover the new, bigger, more robust tree. And I ran out of the ribbon that usually wraps the tree and tops it with an extravagant bow. So we got a little something like this:

Our tree skirt is in the same box as our old tree and I did not make one out of burlap and ribbon. Maybe next year.

Next up, our holiday cards. I. Love. Them. I love running to the mailbox every day to see what beautiful pictures and notes our friends have sent. However, I have not come up with a creative way to display them...Mike informed me his grandmother used to do this with hers:

Who cares. They make me happy!

Next, the stockings, hung by the chimney with care:

Yes, Lullabelle has her own stocking. Sadly, she will not be accompanying us on our southeastern tour next week. After a lot of thought, we decided it was too much for her (and my patience) last time. I keep telling myself she will be fine and less traumatized if we keep her at home. Yes, we have someone to feed her (and maybe cuddle with her for a required 30 minutes?) I feel guilty just writing about it.

I will leave you with some outtakes from our holiday card...sometimes the best ones just don't make the cut. I particularly like this first one - I think it embodies our relationship.

Here, I was trying to make it look more professional than my mom snapping pictures with my point and shoot Canon. (I threw a bunch of leaves in the air....)