I forgot to duck when life took a swing, because Harry and Loyd 2.0? Those little freeloaders strutted right past Thanksgiving. Fantasy football kicked me in the shins while I was down. I’m sitting at 3–8. My household treats me like I’ve committed crimes against the NFL. My kids’ brain disease decided that National Epilepsy month was a great month to try new things. I’ve yelled ‘Marco’ too many times without his ‘Polo’ response, and I’m over it.
But you know what? It’s ok, because my Christmas tree is still up.
That’s right, STILL.
I never took it down last year.
That tree stood tall and proud in my basement for over twelve months. I finally threw a blanket over it about seven months ago. The basement stays untouched except for the handful of times I wander down there in a year, and usually only because I’m looking for something I likely already threw away. Every time I saw that tree, I laughed. Zero regrets. Not a single one.
Once my older kids moved out, decorating the tree turned into a battle. I had to convince my youngest and my husband to pitch in. It took more negotiation than a hostage situation. So. I unintendedly saved me from another holiday argument disguised as family bonding by forcing them to place an ornament on a tree that I know I will rearrange later.
It’s like living the best of both worlds. My basement as a festive sparkling Christmas wonderland while the rest of the house is still covered in black, skulls, and the Sanderson Sisters.
So I’m heading into the Thanksgiving holiday stuck in-between my two favorite seasons.
This week is about not having the picture-perfect holiday, or holidays in my case. Its about being messy and forgetful and it still being ok.
Next week might be about how my dresser is the catch-all of everything without a home. And so is my office. Like Monica from Friends’ closet, a complete and utter mess. Stick around and we will find out together. Just stick around. I want you here.
A festive mom, Liz
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