So, we trimmed the tree yesterday. I know, there are still two days left until Christmas, but we thought we’d just go ahead and get it out of the way early. I guess that I have a different idea of what a decorated tree should look like than my six-year-old does. This is the first year he was actually really helpful with it. Last year he helped, but still most everything he put on was on the bottom third of the tree. This year he dragged out the step stool and did a much better job of covering the entire tree. Two years ago, there were nine ornaments on one low branch. It was so weighted down that those nine were not hanging, they were resting on the floor. But, with that helpfulness, there came a side order of opinions. As well as a stubborn desire to do it himself. (I have no idea where he got that from!)
After the first few minutes of butting heads over where or how things were going to go, mom had to get over herself. I decided that I had a choice. I could engage in an hour long battle of wills, the end product of which would satisfy neither of us. Or I could engage in a lifelong Christmas memory, the end product of which would satisfy us far more than however the tree looks. Tough choice, right?
No, not really a tough decision. But hard to do. I love to decorate. I have firm ideas of what I like and how a tree “should” look. Like I said before, this is the first time anyone else really had an opinion about our tree. So, I bit my tongue, gritted my teeth, and helped him string the ribbon and garland down, across, around, and back. He really did do a good job. And if it’s a little more full than usual, or employs unusual draping techniques, then good. Because sometime’s more is more- especially when it come’s to love and memories and validation.
If you look really closely, you’ll be able to see the kitchen sink. We sure got everything else on there!
Brook Art Human. A story, a yarn, a line, a shape 
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