Bittersweet...

So...I broke my "No Christmas before Thanksgiving" rule this year.  I went and bought a tree (okay...two trees) (okay...three trees).  But in my defense, the third tree is just a little 4-footer for the game room upstairs.  (And they were all on sale.) (And we have a bigger house that has more room for more Christmas joy.)  But anyway, I bought trees, and I got so excited that I just had to get them decorated.  But I refused to listen to Christmas music.  Afterall, it's not even Thanksgiving yet, and I had to draw the line somewhere.  Plus, I still have my fall decorations out, so I didn't really break my rule all that badly.

But it was in all of the excitement of decorating these trees that all of the bittersweetness came out.

First, the tree on the right.  This one is a totally new addition to our family, and as such is mostly sweet.  He lives in our entry way/front room/mud room.  He is an omage to the first Christmas tree that Kevin and I ever had.  That tree was smaller and less decorated, but no less special.  For some reason, he wanted that tree to be blue and white/silver.  Maybe it was his love of the Dallas Cowboys, maybe it wasn't.  And even though it went against every "Christmas is red and green" fiber in my being, that's what we got.  And it was a perfect first tree.  It only lasted 3 years before I traded it in for a real tree in our first real house and a color scheme that suited my idea of Christmas, since he didn't really care anyway.  But that's what this guy represents:  Our sweet beginnings, made even sweeter by the fact that Hannah and I sang and danced to everything from AC/DC and Taylor Swift to Macklemore and George Straight while decorating it.  It is now our Winter Tree, and it will be surrounded by snowmen, snowflakes, and other wintery delights.  AFTER we get back from Thanksgiving.

Now, the tree on the left.  While the tree itself is new (and artificial), the theme is the one I have stuck with since that first real tree in our first real house:  red, white, and silver...and semi-homemade (and on a green tree to fulfill my "Christmas is red and green" requirements).  And I think it is magical.  I can't look at it without smiling...and occasionally getting teary eyed.  Thus, the title of bittersweet.  Hannah and Mason both helped me decorate this tree.  We made quick work of the store-bought ornaments (going biggest to smallest to make sure they were evenly distributed), and when those were on it was a very pretty tree.  But then the fun began as we got started with hanging memories, which turned it from a very pretty tree to a spectacularly beautiful and magical tree (at least in our eyes).  These ornaments, we lingered over.  We reminisced, and we laughed.  We talked about (and oohed and aahed over) the ornaments we used to make and give out as gifts.

That is just a small sampling above.  And we talked about how fun that used to be, but how their little fingerprints aren't so little anymore (sniff sniff), and how they've moved on to making their own crafts now: 

    

Then we shared precious memories while hanging ornaments they made at school over the years (which they don't do anymore, either).

We talked about other ornaments, trying to remember who gave them to us:  grandma and grandpa, former sweet students of mine, fabulous teacher friends, and Santa.  Mason giggled uncomfortably as Santa was mentioned, and he came clean about not believing anymore.  He has suspected since last year, no one ruined it for him or gave anything away, he just kind of realized, and he was OK with it.  (NOWHERE NEARLY as heartbreakingly devastating as it was when I crushed Hannah with the truth 3 short years ago, but I still got teary-eyed and we hugged each other as we silently said goodbye to a little bit of innocence and hello to a little bit more maturity).

Hannah helped me hang my personal ornaments:  detailed cross-stitched ones that my mom and her sisters made, plastic canvas ones I would help my mom make when I was a kid, and salt dough ornaments that were made for me when I was too young to be of any help.  

As we hung them, my heart smiled.  And just as I was about to gripe (only a little) at Hannah for not spreading them out, she says, "Just wait.  Look!  You two go together at the top, and then Mason and I can go together underneath.  A happy little ornament family!"  And my heart smiled a little bit more.

So, here's to childhood memories (my own as well as Hannah's and Mason's).  Here's to growing up.  And here's to the most perfect Prickett Family Christmas Tree yet.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!