That may be the tale I have to tell about this year. Our beautiful, full, 7 foot Douglas Fir doesn't look like she is going to make it to Christmas. My poor husband, who takes great pride in taking care of our household and everything in it, cannot figure out where we went wrong. She was freshly cut and well watered, but refused to drink. Notches and holes have been drilled with a slight improvement, but we fear the worst. Instead of ladden with snow, we will be ladden with dead pine needles. C'est la vie.
O ya, and Papa came back in town. Another too short visit, but we love having him whenever we can. It means the world that he is here to enjoy little things like Flesher Farm with us. And it can't be too bad to enjoy pushing your grandkids on the swings in December, either.
We post-poned a visit to Santa so that Papa could be here to accompany us. Okay, actually, we post-poned the visit because there was a three hour wait on Saturday night, and I thought Monday would be a much better day for a nice relaxing trip to Santa's work shop. Just so happens, my dad was here on Monday :) And for the first year ever, the boys took off running down the red carpet and never looked back. No crying, no fear. They were determined to convince Santa they should be on the nice list (Ryan the Elf hasn't been giving the best reports each night). Instead of terror, there was awe in their eyes. There was awe in my eyes, our Santa is unbelievable. Real beard, sweet composer, rosy cheeks. He is the real deal. And our kids, including Fiona felt the magic of Christmas charm.
We have some fun plans that include snow that's not made out of cut-up plastic and a life-size gingerbread house to come this weekend. For all the crazy-stressful moments, I cannot imagine this time of year with out my three monkeys. Little kids bring the Christmas spirit in a way nothing else can.