Operation Decorating The Christmas Tree

So the whole Christmas Tree decorating fiasco was resolved yesterday. After a day and a half of looking at the tree and resisting my urge to blast Christmas music and decorate it I went out and bought my son a little $10 fibre optic tree, I took out the crappy bulbs that I had from previous years and helped him decorate the tree, he was ABSOLUTELY thrilled about being able to place the decorations on the tree. After his was done I was hoping it would keep him busy, playing with the ornaments, re-hanging them, ect. So I went to the big tree, put on some good ol’ Boney M Christmas music and started decorating. Seconds later my son stands in front of the large tree, I look at him warily, was all my effort of going out and buying his own tree in vain? He stares, entranced, I’m not quite sure what to make of this stare, its kind of like how a lion looks at a zebra before he pounces and takes it down. He then runs back to his tree and his box of ornaments and drags his ornaments over, he grabs one out of the box, I hold me breath… and he starts decorating the big tree. I sigh in relief and continue decorating keeping an eye on him, the entire time he took the remaining ornaments that I had given him and places them on the branches in clusters (he hasn’t quite gotten the idea of hanging them so he lets them rest on top of the brush.) So I sing to the blasting Christmas music, he dances, and we both decorate the tree in harmony. All he wanted was to be part of the tradition, we bought the bigger, better tree for him to enjoy and so its only right that he gets to help decorate it as well. He has yet to take any of mommy’s ornaments off the tree and bat them around (or throw them) he’s played with his, adjusting them, putting them in other places, and that’s just fine with me.

So Vanity Mom gets her pretty Christmas Tree (squeee!!!)


About vanitymom

I'm here to talk about not only the joys of motherhood but also the (not so much joys) of living in a high society world that you're judged upon your looks... where I live you need to be a 7 to gain beach access, an 8 to walk around half naked in the summertime and atleast a 9 to hold your head up high. I'm Vanity Mom. I will be talking about things such as parenting (of course) beauty tips for moms, exercise, and eating healthy... all while doing this with a kid biting the hell out of your leg because he's teething.
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