Christmas Tree: Confessional

If you remember, way back in October, I explained our little family tradition of cutting down our own Christmas tree at Reese Family Christmas Tree Farm.

This is one of my favorite holiday traditions, and it seems like every. single. year. I plan on taking out family photo up there, among the live trees, and it never seems to happen.

As a matter of fact, for the past three years our Christmas card has been made by me at a frantic 3 am on Dec 20^th rather late into the season. It seems like Colt, although he L-O-V-E-S Christmas, can’t get into the Christmas Spirit until the week of. Asking him to take a Christmas photo the day after Thanksgiving always seems to just turn him off.

So again this year, I planned on taking our Christmas card photo among the trees at the lovely Christmas Tree Farm. Sadly, we’ve been so busy with the build {here and here}, that we haven’t been able to take a Saturday afternoon to get one. And now, being Dec. 13^th, Colt says we probably won’t have time to do it in the next 10 days either. [everyone should share a big collective sigh here]

So, in order to retain some small semblance of what Christmas normally looks like in the Gibson abode, I have performed a taboo {at least, for me, it is taboo}. You should ready yourself for a shock.

I have put up a plastic Christmas tree.

Now, don’t get me wrong, some plastic Christmas trees are amazing. I’ve seen some that look so real you would never even know the difference.

But I don’t own one of those. 

Since we always buy real trees, we’ve never invested in an extravagantly nice faux evergreen.

The only one I have ever bought myself is a cheapie-Wally-world-one for 30 bucks a few years ago for my classroom. It’s spindly and not the best rendition of a tree, but its pre-lit {saves so much time for a teacher on the go}, with colored lights {so pretty}, and adds enough décor to any room to set the Christmas spirit in motion {so exciting for my past school-kiddos}.

So on Monday, Colt brought home my classroom Christmas tree, which I had in storage on the property. I threw that baby up in 3 minutes {seriously} and plugged it right in.

I’m the first to admit that I am a lot little disappointed that we’re not going to the tree farm this year with Wyatt. I think he would really enjoy it. I will also admit that it makes me feel like a bum-mommy. But in the bigger scheme of things, I think Wyatt can will one day respect the fact that his parents were busy building him a home with their four hands.

So that’s it. My big Christmas tree confession.

And no, I do not like it as much as a real one. It makes me cry inside a little when I think of not taking that yearly pilgrimage to the tree farm. Next year, I vow, will be different. But for now, Wyatt loves the lights, Mack loves napping underneath it, and Mommy loves that the house finally has that sweet twinkle at night that I have been missing. I also love that Wyatt can’t pull {and try to eat} pine needles.

Merry Christmas, everybody!

And see, Wyatt doesn't even seem to care that the tree is plastic, spindly, and so naked throughout the limbs.