We started packing Christmas away today. I used to get all stressed out by Christmas decorations, and I couldn't wait to have all the clutter cleaned up before New Years. I don't think I have that much energy any more. I did have a Christmas clutter epiphany this year - but I think I'll save that for another post. Today, we just took the ornaments off the tree.
I held the box and the baggies, and the boys gave me the ornaments to carefully wrap and pack. The silver glass balls from Grandma go back in the cubbies in their box. The bead icicles I made when Alec was a baby are laid carefully in a large baggie. Old fashioned wooden elves nestle together, safely away from the glittery ornaments. Snowmen, angels, and musical instruments each get their own bag. The biggest bag goes for the ornaments brought home each year in mid-December, a child's face beaming happily on the proud face of each one.
It could be a Norman Rockwell-esque experience, with the lights and the nostalgia and the last of the Christmas carols playing softly in the background. Instead, our winter evening was punctuated with, "Careful! That one is breakable!" and "Whoa Mom, I'm gonna pass out here! I think one of the babies is stinky." and "No, put that back in!" and "Quick! Close the box before they unroll the tinsel again!" and "Please do not sit on the box!"
They are all in bed, angelic in slumber. I am left with the carols and the lights on the bare tree. Now the wave of nostalgia and melancholy hits me. Was I too busy with the presents and the doings of the season that I forgot to Christmas? <sigh>
I held the box and the baggies, and the boys gave me the ornaments to carefully wrap and pack. The silver glass balls from Grandma go back in the cubbies in their box. The bead icicles I made when Alec was a baby are laid carefully in a large baggie. Old fashioned wooden elves nestle together, safely away from the glittery ornaments. Snowmen, angels, and musical instruments each get their own bag. The biggest bag goes for the ornaments brought home each year in mid-December, a child's face beaming happily on the proud face of each one.
It could be a Norman Rockwell-esque experience, with the lights and the nostalgia and the last of the Christmas carols playing softly in the background. Instead, our winter evening was punctuated with, "Careful! That one is breakable!" and "Whoa Mom, I'm gonna pass out here! I think one of the babies is stinky." and "No, put that back in!" and "Quick! Close the box before they unroll the tinsel again!" and "Please do not sit on the box!"
They are all in bed, angelic in slumber. I am left with the carols and the lights on the bare tree. Now the wave of nostalgia and melancholy hits me. Was I too busy with the presents and the doings of the season that I forgot to Christmas? <sigh>
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