Your leaves weren't faithful ever....

Christmas Tree hunting this year was... well.... NUTS! But that always makes for a great story, right?

I didn't go last year because I had just popped out a baby and had mastitis at least once by then, so this was MY first year searching for the perfect tree in good old Southwest Michigan.

I put my game face on and, even though my three year old was having some sort of breakdown, I was determined to stay calm and make this tree-hunting experience fun for my girls.

(But really, what was going through my head... with that nappy hat on it.... was "It's so cold it's so cold it's so cold it's SO COLD!")

And here we are.... pre-perfect-tree discovering. (That big ball of blanket is Nora, just in case you were wondering.)


And here is my beast of a husband, braving the cold, firing up the chainsaw, cutting down The Chosen One. (I took this picture sitting in the warmth of the van heater blowing full blast on my frozen body.) Isn't he great??!! :) Love. Him.


A few weeks after our tree had been up, we noticed that, for some reason, our tree was not sucking up any water. We would go to pour water in the tree stand, and it would still be full to the top. In years previous, we've had to water our tree every few days. Well, about a week before Christmas, our beautiful tree's branches got very sad looking, and started hanging toward the ground. Our tree's needles started falling off all over the carpet, and ornaments would just randomly fall to the ground because they were too heavy for our dying tree's branches. It was a sad looking tree.

Well, Christmas came and went, (with my husband throwing up in the bathroom) and my girls decided to rip little twigs with needles on them off of the dead tree and use them for horse food. We heard shrieks of horror from the living room during this little pretend game of theirs, and ran into the room to see what was the matter.

The tree had tipped over.

On top of Nora.

My older three were horrified and scared for their sweet baby sister... and Seth and I were laughing.

Nora was not so happy about this. Our sweet baby got clobbered by a dead, poky tree, AND she got sap on her bald head. (One time we were grateful she is bald.) We rescued her, took all the ornaments off Dead Tree, and threw it out on the front porch.

Aaaah.

I love Christmas, but I am really loving getting all of the extra "clutter" packed away and back down in the basement.

So, in Christmas Tree shopping in the years to come, we'll always remember our perfect tree that turned out to be not-so-perfect... and rather sad looking by Christmas! :)

Nine.

Why did the turtle cross the road?

I felt inspired a few days ago to take time out of the business of the every day for the little things in life.

Like turtles.

I was driving home from a friend's house when I spotted a turtle crossing the road. "How fun!" I thought, so I stepped on the brakes to turn around. I thought it would be so neat to show the girls a real turtle, let them touch it, then set it free to continue it's journey.

I stopped the car, did a U-turn, and pulled up next to the the turtle; he was right outside of the girls' window. There were two cars coming up behind me, so we waited. The first car passed, then the second car came up next to our van, and I heard a THUMP.

I scrunched my eyes, gripped the steering wheel and put my head down.

"You have GOT to be kidding me," I mutterd.

All was silent in the van.

I looked down and saw the dead turtle with it's shell smashed into pieces on it's back.

And it was still twitching.

"Aaaaah.....it's... dead." is all I could say. (I couldn't say almost dead.)

There was more silence as we all stared out the window at the broken body of the turtle.

One of the girls in the back said, "It's red."

I turned my head toward the road, placed both hands on the steering wheel, stared out the window for a minute, (mouth hanging open and a bit traumatized) put the van into drive, and solemnly drove off.

"The turtle's dead, girls." I said weakly, expecting some tears from at least one of my girls.

"Yup. It's dead." they responded ever-so-bluntly, without any hint of sadness in their little voices.

And that was all the sympathy I got for the poor animal.

"What if the turtle was a mommy with babies!?" (I was trying to get some pity for the reptile.)

"Yeah! Then we could go catch it's babies and there would be one for you, and you, and you, and me!" shouted Lily from the backseat.

I can see that pity for dead reptiles is not ingrained in my girls.

At all.

And I'm not really sure how I feel about that...

I turned the van around again after finding another good spot for a U-turn, and headed toward home.... we passed the turtle again. I was wondering if it was completely dead yet, because when we left the thing, it's little legs and head were still moving. (Eew.) I actually debated running it over again to finish the job and put it out of it's misery, but I just couldn't.

Soooo, my teachable moment didn't go so well, and the turtle probably would have made it to the other side safely if I had not stopped to try to educate my little women.

Oh well.

So why did the turtle cross the road?

We'll never know.

:)