On the tenth day of Christmas

For the tenth day of Christmas, a priceless memory:

ten strings of tree lights,

nine Moravian cookies,

eight hours of playtime,

seven resolutions,

six nights, scant sleeping, 

five first-time puffs!

Four at St. Nick's feet,

three playmates, 

two crawling buds,

and a joyful, thankful family.

We love our Christmas tree.  It is the perfect size, with the top just brushing our ceiling, fitting perfectly in front of our mantle.  T has taken great care of its maintenance for me this year, and since we live in NC where most of the trees are grown, it is the freshest we have ever had.  Our strings of rainbow lights twinkle all day long.  Our kids placed each ornament with extra care this year.  Our friends' and family's Christmas cards adorn the branches.   

I am just like my mom in that I start  to get crabby when it is time to take down the tree.  Today I learned that my son is just like me too.  As we returned home from preschool today, we came upon a city service truck picking up the discarded trees on the curb.  I stopped to ask him if they would be picking up trees again, as we have not yet taken ours down (c'mon, people, twelve days of Christmas, right?).  He reassured me that they would be making rounds again next week.

As we pulled away, E-Bear asked, "Mommy, what were you saying about our tree?"  When I told him that we would need to take our tree down soon because it was getting too old to live at our house anymore, he started to tear up.  "But Mommy," he said, "I love our tree."

What could I say?  I love our tree too.  Then G-Bear joined in.  We all had to wipe a tear away.  

So here I sit, in our dark living room, next to our tree with its lights shining brightly.  We'll treasure these last two days with our tree.   On Friday it must come down, along with our ten strings of lights and our ornaments, and we'll all have to say goodbye until next year.