Here we are, less than a week away from Christmas, and I can’t help but ask, have I made room for the real Christmas? Life only seems be fuller every year. Every year I vow that next year will be different— the shopping will be done before December, the decorations will be hung and the busy work will be behind me so I can have room to fully embrace the season.

But then I wake up, and I’m still me, still not 30 days ahead of the curve.

Every morning on December 25th from 1983 until 2008, we paused Christmas to give full attention to celebrate birthdays. Wrapping a birthday gift in Christmas paper was highly frowned upon, punishable by shaming. For that one hour, we celebrated their birthdays.

Before returning to Christmas morning, there was the annual picture of the celebrants, my twin sisters sitting on each of my dad's knees. As you can imagine, they fit a little easier in the younger years, but tradition lived on. We have almost 25 pictures of them on my dad's knee, including when his face barely poked out from between his adult twins perched on his knee. 

And then came May 5, 2008— the day he realized he would see Jesus sooner than he thought, and August 17, 2009— the day he actually did.

Christmas wasn't the same. 

Why I thought it was a good idea to purchase a real tree once we had small people to haul out in the freezing cold, and have the extra responsibility to keep the tree alive in addition to them, and clean up after a tree in addition to them, I'm not sure. But off we went. 

We headed out with our then 8 month old baby to buy our very first and very frozen real tree. 

I racked my brain to remember the steps for successful experience from lot to house. I remembered my dad always letting it thaw in the garage but I couldn't remember why so I figured it couldn't have been that important, plus I was impatient and eager to get the thing decorated.

My brilliant solution: let is thaw inside. It's warmer than the garage and will thaw faster.

To make a long story short, it did thaw faster with the added bonus of puddles of water and piles of wet, dead pine needles everywhere. It was. huge mess and my amnesia was cured.