The War of the Christmas Trees

6 and half years ago I pledged to love and cherish my husband. In sickness and in health. In good times and in bad times. But no one said I had to love how my husband picks out a Christmas Tree. I have now affectionately dubbed this memory as "The War of the Christmas Trees". I know the my husband is a perfectionist in some things but I don't think I truly understood this until December 3rd, 2010.

December 3rd came like any other day. We got up, ate breakfast, did some errands and decided to get a Christmas tree. So we loaded up the Jeep with straps, gloves and rope. We headed off to the Christmas Tree farm to cut down our very own tree. Yep- good ol' Family Griswold Christmas Tree fashion.

As we approached the tree lot the rows of cars at the base of the hill told us we weren't the only ones with the idea of Christmas Tree shopping. Needless to say, we bundled up and trudged up the hill. As we reached the top we stopped to catch our breath, we began to organize a plan for finding the best tree. Audra was immediately taken with running through the trees and playing hide and seek. Our family of three floated excitedly through the rows of trees shouting here's one or here's one. After about 20 minutes of walking I began to feel the cold coming through my not so warm coat. 30 minutes later, my fingers were staring to go numb and the realization that we might be here for awhile started to sink in. To add to the pain, Audra had promptly stopped in her tracks and gotten what I have come to dubb as her poop face. Yep, pooped her diaper right there in the Christmas Tree farm. Where was the Jeep? At the bottom of the hill. Was I walking down it to change a diaper and come back up? No way! So we continued our search, all the while I was thinking we will find one soon. 75 minutes after our arrival to the tree farm, I stood face to face with Paul. I was tired, cold and had a screaming 21 month old in my arms. Hide and seek was no longer a game and my fingers were blue. I finally stopped in front of a tree and stated it to be the one. Paul looked closely at it and said "I think there was another one up the hill." So we trudged back up the hill to find this supposedly perfect tree. Tree after tree blurred by and I was beginning to see red. Finally I planted myself in front of a tree, speared Paul with a a look and said "here's a good one." When he still could not make a decision I said "Fine. I'm leaving." I promptly turned myself around, picked up Audra and stomped down the hill. Yep stomped. Like a 2 year old.

Two and half hours later our blissful tree outing finally came to an end. The "perfect" tree was on top of our Jeep, Audra was screaming in the back seat with snot running down her face, and I was sitting in the front seat livid as I was thinking of all of the things I could have done in that 2 and one half hours. I looked over at Paul as he jumped in the Jeep, rubbed his hands together and said "We have a great tree!" I just shook my head and asked to go home. He laughed and I tried to look mad. I think I will stay home next year.

Shaking off November

Each night, when I get Audra out of the bathtub, she loudly proclaims- "brrrrrr" and does this cute little shaking shiver. It makes me smile. She seems to find comfort in the acknowledgment of stating that she is cold. I quickly wrap her in a towel that brings warmth and comfort. As we approach the holiday season, I feel like Audra as I have been slowly “shaking off” the month of November. Time has passed, years have come and gone, yet two little boys still live in our hearts. Daily thoughts of them seem to be exaggerated as the month of November emerges. My great friend Kate, once describe grief to be like a cloak. Some days you wear the cloak tightly around your shoulders while other days you throw open the cloak. However, the cloak never leaves your shoulders. It is always there. A reminder of what you carry with you now and for days to come. And sometimes one hides themselves deeply in the covers of the cloak, sheltered in deep darkness. Waiting. Waiting for the day that the cloak doesn’t feel so heavy. Just waiting. We have come to recognize that no matter how much we prepare ourselves for this time of year, it always comes. Always steals our breath away. Always brings back the darkness. We have learned take refugee in this time and to spend it together. So in our togetherness, we decided that this year we would release balloons in honor of Jacob and Caden. As you can see from the photos, Audra was mesmerized by the flight of the balloons. I think this is a tradition we will keep for years to come. For now, we are slowly emerging from the depths of November and look forward to a season of love and warmth.