Christmas Tree

Someone casually asked me the other day what kind of Christmas tree I had. In the course of the conversation, it was revealed that I did not have "the standard 5 ft artificial tree", but many trees, of various descriptions. Her reply "I thought you would be that type". Hmmmm....."that type"?....what type? It honestly hadn't occurred to me that I was out of the norm (in this. I am well aware that I am not in the norm in most other things). It hadn't even crossed my mind that I had more than one tree. But when she asked, I stopped to count....and it took me a minute. So, I might as well document, and put it out there.

So, let me show you my trees, and explain...

This is my Christmas tree. I thought I had one christmas tree, this one. Went to the tree farm to cut it down, 10 1/2 feet tall, decorated with family ornaments. Obviously, this is my Christmas tree, right?

But then, last year I wanted Toby to have his own tree in his room, to be his night light approaching Christmas, like I had, when I was little. He loves it, and he can do whatever he wants to it without Mommy "fixing" it.

Now, if Toby gets his own tree, then Aimee must too. Actually, Toby insisted, because he was infuriated that Aimee kept taking the bells off of his tree. Aimee loves to pull things off of her tree, and knock it over.

This is Fred. I have had Fred for...15 years? My grandma gave him to me when he was a baby. Fred is MY tree. The official christmas tree of my alfcove. I bought him pink lights this year. Very wild of me.

This is wild too. Scott's coworker gave us an old artificial tree a last year(unsure why) but I decided to give it a try on the front porch, because I was sad that you can't see our family tree from the street this year. My first ever artificial tree over 2 feet tall.

This is also on my front porch, I hesitate to mention it though, because I am pretty sure it is totally dead. It lived on the other side of the porch over the summer, and I didn't make it there with a watering can frequently enough. Makes me sad.

I LOVE these little trees. I had several of them in past years, but couldn't find them anywhere this year. Turns out Big Lots has EVERYTHING. Aren't they sooo cute!

These are some of Fred's friends. I am almost certain that there are Norfolk Pines in the North Pole and Bethlehem.

This is an artificial tree that I had when I was little. And I love it!

And this is the Christmas giraffe. Not a tree, per se, but I felt he should be included none the less. He was a "white elephant gift" from 5 years ago. He lives in my basement. Toby insisted we bring him up. He now lives in Scott's alcove. I think the employees next door enjoy him.

So, how many trees do I have? Well, 1 family tree, 1 fake porch tree, 1 friend tree.....so....who can keep count.

I love Christmas trees.

Hypocrite

I frequently wear flip flops in the snow. I avoid jackets at all costs. I hate the restriction of movement caused by layers of bulky clothing.
And yet, I do this to my children....

"I am cold, go put on a sweater!"

One of the perks of being a mom. hehe

Uncomfortable

I am currently sitting in my living room "alone", practically trembling. I am uncomfortable. Not physically (though my house is not warm) but spiritually, relationally, mentally. Its not bad. Its probably good. Its just.....uncomfortable. And I am human, and American, and a (former) Goodridge. I hate discomfort, uncertainty, awkwardness.
But I love God, or at least I am trying to. And He doesn't want me to be comfortable. He wants radical love. Fruit. Hot or cold? Am I hot or cold? Do I love Him? Do I love His people? The widow and the orphan. Am I entertaining angels in disguise? Or turning them away because they make me nervous?
So, whatever the outcome, outrageous love is always the right answer. And maybe someday I will get better at it, and it won't cause me to tremble. Or maybe the trembling is right...maybe the whole point, beginning and end, is just that I get shaken up a little bit.

I like weddings

I liked being a part of this one.

On my list of unrealistic dreams(redundant?)...

"wedding in a box"

9 months old

And today, just like on her past 4 "birthdays", she is sick and miserable.

I take a picture of her every month on her birthday, and every picture has been totally pathetic. She is going to look at these pictures someday and think that we beat her.

Earth Day

In honor of Earth Day (not really, it just worked out that way) Toby planted the first plant in our vegetable garden. I kept him in the seed aisle at Home Depot for an embarrassing amount of time, so as a reward for being good he got to pick out his very own plant. Of course he picked a red geranium, one of my least favorite colors, and one of my least favorite flowers, but geraniums are on "the list" of insect repellent plants, so, its ok. And it made him happy.
And this picture make me happy. He is so cute (sometimes).

I am going to do everything in my power to make him want to garden with me.

Put in check

I went to Hobby Lobby with the kids today. We had already run a few other errands, and they had been pretty good. I debated calling it a day while things were still relatively peaceful but decided to risk it, so we headed out to make one more stop. Of course Aimee fell asleep during the 2 minute car ride from one store to the next. I again debated just heading for home, but I love Hobby Lobby, so in we went. I managed to get Aimee through the slushy rainy snow stuff and into a cart in the store still asleep. So far so good. Toby immediately located a display of little plastic trucks and he chose one to "drive" around while we shopped.

Mommys turn. We headed to an aisle of decorative ceramic bunny's. We weren't there even a minute when Toby drove a truck over one and sent it crashing to the floor. Dang! (Luckily{?} this particular figurine had obviously already been busted by someone else's kid, and there were various pieces of it all over, so, I concluded that I wasn't obligated to buy it)(right? don't know).
So, I restated the rules very clearly(DO NOT TOUCH ANYTHING. NOTHING. ONLY THE TRUCK. DO NOT TOUCH ANYTHING ELSE), and we moved on. 20 seconds later he was attempting to drive a decorative wheel barrel.(I should have left then). 30 seconds after that he was collecting packages of party napkins. Then it was Easter banners. When he went for the 4 foot tall decorative model lighthouse covered in seashells I picked him up and informed him that I would be carrying him until we got the heck out of there, and there would be no further discussion.

I was fired up. I was mentally trying to determine if my voice truly is inaudible to males, or if I should just give up my vain attempts at parenting and discipline, and just send the kids to military school.
Two aisles later I was carrying the 43 pound Toby in one arm and driving the cart with a sleeping Aimee with the other arm, and I was NOT giving up until I got what I had come for. By this time the whining and debating had stopped and Toby had been silent for a minute or so. I was still fully on the defensive.

Then, out of the blue, Toby announced "I am going to spit on the ground!"
What!? I was appalled! I was immediately thinking of it as some sort of deep gesture of disrespect.
I snapped back "if you do I will slap your face".
He paused. He looked confused. He thought about it. Seemingly trying to decide if it was worth it.

Then he quietly reflected "But, Mommy, Jesus did it"

Gasp. Huh? What just happened? I felt like I had been punch in the stomach.
We stopped and sat in the aisle and discussed. I apologized.
Suck! I suck.