Well, I finally broke down. I swore I would never do it, I swore I was a purist, and I could never abide anything less than the forest-fresh boughs of pine on which to hang my precious ornaments, and yet I have caved. It seems to be the year of caving. First, I settled for carpet instead of hardwood, then I let there be a TV in our bedroom, and now, now most heinous of all; now we have an… I can barely say it… We have an… artificial Christmas tree. AAAAAAGH!
Loud stage-whisper: Shhhhh! And do you know what? I LOVE it!
It doesn’t shed needles all over for the newly (barely) mobile baby to shove in her mouth. It is not a fire-hazard. It pops out of the box in three pieces, and opens like a Dr Seuss umbrella, lights and all! It looks darn real, including pinecones on some of the branches! My ornaments remain happily sap-free! I didn’t cut my hands to dickens putting on the strings of lights! I don’t have to remember to water it, which I never did with the real ones, anyway!
All my life we have cut out tree down- it’s a serious family tradition, and one I really wanted to carry on with my children. Ah, but reality comes crashing in- I grew up in California, and when you go cutting your tree, you take a pretty drive in the mountains, put on a windbreaker with your sunglasses and saw your pretty tree down. Here, in the great northwest, when we headed out early Friday morning to cut our tree, it was below freezing, we had a 5 year old, a 3 year old and a baby with us, and when we got to the tree farm, there was ice on the puddles, snow on the ground, and we had to hike about a mile to get to the area of trees. DH and I looked at each other, put the saw down, and got back in the warm truck.
So off we went to Lowes. Where the tree’s were $59! DH and I looked at each other, looked at the kids bouncing around like wild beans, and got back in the warm truck.
Hey, I’ve got an idea! You go home with the kids, I’ll take this awesome coupon for this national craft store, and I, alone, will go and buy our tree! Great! It’s a deal!
And that’s how we ended up selling out, and saving a tree. I figure in about 4 years, the Faker will have paid for himself, and he already has, 3 times over, in my sanity.