Creating memories

It’s official. Our kids have totally fallen in love with Christmas. It’s still 10 days and counting until the Big Man arrives, but they wake every morning like it’s only hours away. “How many days now?” the littlest will ask. “It’s 10,” quips his brother, as they sit around the presents that are slightly over-shaken and disheveled under the tree. With just under two weeks to go, the anticipation of Christmas is really starting to create some memories.

One of the biggest I’d say was the day we put up our tree. Randy and the boys went Christmas tree hunting with some friends out north of town. Several hours, a couple runny noses and a hot cup of coffee later, we had a tree, and two wound up little boys whose excitement for the holiday was going full throttle.

Dad cut back some branches and filled an old paint bucket full of dirt, and we stood up that pseudo-Douglas fir right underneath the dancing bobble heads. It was attractive, at first glance, but those over the age of five would soon agree that turning the flat side to the wall was a lot easier said than done. After a day or so of nakedness, the kids insisted that we dress our tree with lights and ornaments…something other than a pair of paper handcuffs made in Wednesday night Bible class. And so another memory was born.

We dug out the Christmas CD, the one and only that exists in our home, and put on some music to help get us all in the proper mood. The boys thought we needed Christmas cookies to add to the festivities, so we pulled out the rolling pin and whipped up the dough, and after rolling several cups of flour right into the floor, taking a flying sweep up big brother back and ingesting at least a quarter pound of straight flour each, we had approximately two dozen candy cane and snowman Christmas cookies--half of them well-done (sorry Frosty).

I had had about as much holiday cheer as I could handle for one day, and lets face it, an activity like that should have been started mid-morning, so as luck would have it, we called it an evening, with the promise of picking up where we left off the following day. And so we did. The next evening after dinner, we clicked on the Cowboy Christmas crooners and made an attempt at decorating our tree.

Not surprisingly, the calm and orderly strategy I had devised for the proceedings blew up right in my face. For days, they begged and they bothered, they pleaded and they whined, and finally, an evening arrived where we could focus--attempt to create that Hallmark moment. And wouldn’t you know, they were more interested in sword fighting with the wrapping paper tubes or making head dresses from the tinsel than in decorating that tree.

Thus, our evening ended: One string of red lights, a box of old fashioned Christmas balls, a dozen or so store-bought ornaments and what was left of the tinsel--all hanging on our spherically-challenged tree.

I know it wasn’t quite the evening I’d pictured. Certainly not Norman Rockwell’s vision of the perfect holiday gathering. But it was the best we could do for the moment. With kids who’d rather wear their stockings than hang them by the chimney with care, we are clearly not George and Mary Bailey. No, we’re more like Jed and Granny Clampett, with slightly better fashion sense. Just trying to make some kind of happy, holiday memories for our kids. And I guess in a way, we did just that--all with only two pokes from a pine needle, three lost ornament hooks and one broken family heirloom in the process.

And that’s All in a day’s work!