Two of my very favorite things are Christmas and decorating for the holidays. But now that we have kids, my affection for these things has become slightly strained. I have to mentally prepare myself for the autumn to Christmas decoration conversion and this takes a full blown month.
Ok, now Thanksgiving is over and it’s socially acceptable to show enthusiasm towards Christmas. As soon as the kids are out of bed, I get everyone in the Christmas spirit by shouting, “WHO WANTS TO DECORATE THE CHRISTMAS TREE?!” Everyone cheers excitedly! Then, in the very next breath, I break their tiny Christmas spirits, “Ok! But first this place needs to be spotless!”
Of course my reasoning behind this is there’s currently no where to even put a Christmas tree. There are obnoxious amounts of laundry baskets in the dining room, it looks like The Land of Misfit Toys in the living room, and the kitchen got slapped in the face by an infirmary (our type 1 was sick the last couple days).
So we clean, and it looks like this:
Me: “Why am I the only one who ever cleans anything!? I need help around here! This place is a disaster!”
Husband: *Starts “helping” by doing something completely useless like organizing his coin jar.*
Kids: *Haphazardly throwing toys into random baskets*
Baby: *Constantly crying so no one can get anything done.*
Me: “No! Not that basket! All the legos go in the BLUE basket… No!! Stop! Ponies in the crate! Ponies in the crate! You know what… never mind. Who wants to watch mommy’s phone?”
Also me: *Cleans entire house by myself*
Unfortunately, cleaning the house became a one man job. FORTUNATELY, I had taught Ceci(3 year old) how to sing, “Go Mommy! It’s your birthday! Go Mommy! It’s your birthday!” And as I was angrily putting dishes in the dishwasher, she began to chant, “Go Mommy…” So even if I was bitter about no one’s help, I definitely liked her a little more than everyone else.
Ceci insists that we put the Christmas tree in the living room, which we all know is bananas because Kammie(6 months) just started crawling. She’d be pooping plastic pine needles before the week was over! And Piet(2 year old) would constantly be pulling ornaments off the tree, yelling, “catch the ball, Mommy!” And I don’t care what the packaging says, you can ABSOLUTELY break those Christmas balls.
Side note: At least we don’t have a cat. In the words of my wise father, “Christmas trees are a cat’s wet dream,” and I’ve never known a cat who hasn’t taken down a full sized pine. I am still haunted by the sound of our family cat vomiting tinsel at 3am.
So, to make a short story long, the tree is going in our dinning room where no one is allowed… ever. The dinning room is so barricaded it could double as a bomb shelter. If people want to enjoy the tree, they’ll have to stand outside and look in through the window like a stranger.
I’m exaggerating!! My family will be allowed in the same room as the tree… as long as they keep their hands behind their backs like they’re walking through a no touch museum.
After everything is FINALLY straightened up, Jacob (husband) lugs the tree down from our upstairs storage and lays it in the least convenient spot ever, the bottom of the stairs. But there it still sits, in it’s Christmas tree body bag, waiting for someone to resurrect it.
It’s been 6 days since we started preparations for Christmas decorating. Day 7 is a new day and will be the day we get down to business. Now that I think about it, the whole first floor looks like Santa’s workshop experienced a level 8 earthquake. We will definitely need to clean again.