The Tree

It's our tradition to get our tree the Monday after Thanksgiving.  Not for any significant reason except that David works weekends and is home on Mondays, and we want to get the tree early enough to enjoy it for the whole month of December.  The tree farm we've been going to for years is now a mere 4-ish miles away.  How convenient is that?  If it was snowy here and we had a horse with a sleigh, we could ride to the tree farm.  Except no snow and no horse, so that 'perfect tree hunting' stereotype will probably never happen.  Even though it would be so nice if it did. 

I'm pretending this is us getting our tree

Sometimes I feel like tree-getting day is so chaotic.  Fall stuff is mostly put away while the Christmas boxes are an exploded mess around the living room.  We clear a path for the tree and ornament boxes and hope we remembered to have some sparkling cider or something on hand.

This year, though, thanks to a majorly chaotic weekend of getting ready for a Sunday event, the house was sparkling on Monday, and there was even time to bake cookies and make this homemade sparkling apple juice in time to bring the tree in!  Plus, this year I FINALLY got myself a Christmas apron.  I felt like Martha Stewart herself, except a nicer version with no felony record.  And with brunette hair. 

the perfect tree...tall and skinny, just like we needed.

look at that sweet little reindeer!  another little boy wore that outfit HERE

three kids and a train

This year I'm feeling like Norman Rockwell himself came in and painted me a life.  An awful good one, at that.

But for good measure, here's another fake picture of fake us:

we're really happy in our fake life