I have always been a firm believer in having a real Christmas tree.
I love the smell of the pine and the tradition of going out into the woods to cut down the perfect tree.
And by perfect, I mean a tree that, once in the house, has to be cut a few more times to fit the stand evenly and has to be pruned to keep the branches from breaking through the windows.
The last few years, our tradition has been to buy a Christmas tree while in PA for Thanksgiving. Why buy a tree five hours away? For the price. You know-we save money on a tree here only to double our gas cost carrying it home on top of the van.
And look like the Griswolds while driving home.
However, this year I have become lazy. As much as I love the tradition of bundling up in the cold to walk through the mud and tie that sappy tree to the top of the van, I have given in to buying a fake tree.
If it makes it any better, Noah and I listened to Christmas music while driving to the store to pick out our tree.
My laziness comes from not wanting to clean up pine needles on a daily basis, especially with Noah around. And from not wanting to tear down our tree right after the kids open their presents as we pack up to visit my family.
Part of me feels like a cheater. We are going to miss out on the joy of dragging the tree into the house, cleaning up the needles that fall onto the driveway, sidewalk, porch, and living room floor. And the fun of trying to position the tree exactly right while laying under the tree, getting covered in sap and ending up with scraped up arms and hands.
Oh well-maybe someday I will go back to it. In the meantime, I will enjoy this holiday season mess free.
Except for the mess that Noah will inevitably make by taking the ornaments off the branches every day.