Sunday, December 8, 2013

Oh Christmas Tree!

The Christmas tree can mean so many things to so many people. A sign the holidays are coming or perhaps a nagging chore your wife keeps reminding you to get done. You haul it down from the attic, put music on, light some Christmas smelling candles, and try not to break your neck while putting the star just right on the top of the tree. Once your stockings are hung by the chimney with care, you get to sit back and enjoy the fruits of your labor for an entire month. When you come home from work, it is standing there almost smiling at you. When you go to bed at night it promises to be there in the morning and sheds this glorious glow all over your living room.

Since Thanksgiving our tree has been barren. We set it up before leaving for Thanksgiving with hopes to come back that weekend and deck the halls. Michael got called away for work and it seemed like with him went my Christmas spirit. I strolled with the two boys around the neighborhood and watched all the little families putting their decorations out. My heart became like the Grinch, two sizes too small. "Oh we don't need a tree and house decorated to recognize the meaning of Christmas", I told myself. I found myself jealous of the couple bickering over how to hang their lights and wishing I could say "stop and just be glad you are putting them up together". Long story short, add on me catching the flu to the mix and it was a recipe for a nervous break down.

With Jack away and myself in quarantine, my pity party became even more severe. I practically had the theme song "you're a mean one Mr. Grinch" playing and may or may not have tried to throw a poop bag full of fresh poop at Cooper when he was not cooperating with me as I tried to walk him in the cold. In my darkest of hours I did what I always do when the going gets tough…I came home, put on my Heart t-shirt and faded pajama pants, put in an old movie (normally Breakfast at Tiffany's or Pretty Woman but this time it was White Christmas) and literally cried on Cooper's shoulder. It often times is best to cry with your dog because they can't stop you. They can't offer any words of advice. Plus, you really know you need to get a hold of yourself when the dog finally stands up and walks away.

Today, Jack was back and the house was already buzzing. I couldn't let him see that I was not believing in Santa. I didn't want to tell him that his Elf on the Shelf hadn't moved in days and I may have even sneered at it (I would have used his leg to stir a martini if my meds would have allowed it). Once he was down for a nap I decided to do the craziest thing of all, I decided to decorate the tree myself. I put on Sunny 99.1 on Michael's difficult receiver/surround sound system and put on my big girl panties. The tree was complete before the end of his nap and I was just about to hop on Pinterest when I heard Jack's cry shout out. I brought him in the living room and excitedly pointed out the tree. Okay, no reaction.

As the day winded down and all of Jack's creams had been applied, I watched him playing with his toys in front of the tree. Just a year ago I put a tiny baby under the tree and stuck Cooper's Santa hat on him to take a photo. Just a year ago we strolled around a neighborhood and I sang Christmas carols, and wondered what it would be like when I could hear his first word. Here this little boy stood before me and time seemed so precious. I realized it wasn't the gifts, the lights, the tree, the anything…I realized it was us. No matter how near or how far we are, we all support each other. We have ups and downs whether we are all together or apart, but we must always know how much we love each other. And just like that God gave me the sign I had needed all week. This little boy that never snuggles sat on my lap, turned around and looked up at that tall tree. He finally noticed it. Sitting there in awe I kept waiting for him to stand up. From being too tired from the day he just sat there and snuggled his back into my chest. I started singing Away in a Manger, and he actually laid his little head sideways and started to fall asleep on my knee. My child does not snuggle. My child does not fall asleep on me. My child has never fallen asleep in the living room besides the time he was an infant in a swing. My child knows me just like his father and our father up above. Wait until she is good and ready, wait until she just can't take any more, and then give her all you got. That's when she'll appreciate it the most.