Once upon a time there was a silly little girl . . .
Every Christmas she dreamed of going with her own family. A tall, commanding husband; happy, playful children, to get their own tree.
Cutting it down in the cold.
Drinking hot coco.
After all, she had good memories of doing just that as a child.
It seemed romantic.
And then - before she hardly had time to know what was happening to her - it was all true.
It was reality.
It was romantic.
Even though in her childish dreams . . .
There was no reality of it being 37 degrees and trying to keep a 10 month old baby warm.
There was no little two year old boy who decided to go wading in a knee deep puddle in such temperatures. Or tearful requests of a change of clothing afterwards.
There was no potty training or going off to "find a tree." Ha. ;-)
The tall, commanding husband was not short. Witty. Quiet. Loving. Or downright cute. :-)
It was beautiful.
It started to feel like Christmas.
This dreaming girl decided . . . for the hundredth time over . . . the reality was better than dreams.
She was grateful.
3 comments:
Cute post Allison - we still get excited about going to get the Christmas tree. You have to read my post about "Watch out for the Stumps". Your family is darling and getting cuter by the day. Enjoy every precious moment with them. Merry Christmas to you all.
Love Nicole
The Grandparents are very glad you are making memories for the next generation.
Merry Christmas!
I'm glad to see that you still think it is "romantic" even though you are now the one working out the logistics of it all! You always were the positive one! I'm glad you enjoy life! ~ Love you, Mom
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