Call me a Scrooge, a Grinch, the Burgermeister Meisterburger, whatever you want – but I may not put up a Christmas tree this year. The Christmas tree has been a holiday tradition for years and a staple of my Christmas since my first apartment in college. It has always been my favorite part of decorating. It has often been the only decorating I do. And this year, I may not have one.
What would cause me to take a pass on the oldest of holiday traditions? I’ll give you a hint – he’s small, he drools, and he is 10 months old. That’s right, you guessed it. I may take a pass on the tree because of my son. His new-found mobility and subsequent freedom to roam has turned him into a 20 lb wrecking ball.
As it is he already spends most of his awake time trying to get into the dog’s water and eat the dirt out of the house plants. Adding a 7ft, twinkling tree would be madness. I can’t shake the visions of broken ornaments, needles all over the house and then of course the fear of the tree toppling on the baby (yes I know I can tie it off to something but still).
Babies and trees go together like oil and water. Me getting a tree can certainly only end in disaster. But still I can’t help but think I should get one. Call it tradition, call it the need to conform, call it that special holiday feeling. Readers please feel free to weigh in. Have you skipped the all-important tree when you had little ones or did you roll the dice and go all in. I may end up doing it anyhow, but in the meantime here are a few pics from trees from my past.