He runs to you with arms held high,
You nearly poke him in the eye.
O Christmas Tree! O Christmas Tree!
Why’d we put you up so early?

O Christmas Tree! O Christmas Tree!
Martha’d say you are a pity.
O Christmas Tree! O Christmas Tree!
You’re looking sort of wonky.

Pretty glass switched for shatterproof,
Which he loves to chuck across the room.
O Christmas Tree! O Christmas Tree!
You’re a festive pain in the ass.

I wrote this little number in my head last night while re-hanging all the ornaments that Kendall took off of the tree throughout the evening. It’s something I do several times every day in hopes that he’ll finally leave them alone, which, according to Einstein, makes me insane.

I remember staying at my brother in law and sister in law’s house for Christmas a few years ago and thinking what a horrid mess their pathetic tree was. The ornaments were scarce, most of them concentrated on the top half of the tree. The few ornaments along the bottom were actually random toys shoved in between the branches. They had a 3 year old and a 1 year old at the time.

I mean, I think I understood, to a degree, that you just can’t have the glass covered, perfectly decorated tree with small children, but I recall thinking that things would somehow be “different” with us. That I would keep him away or he just wouldn’t be interested… or maybe that I would not mind spending my nights re-hanging ornaments on just the right branch. Again, another lovely example of naivety at work.

The tree is to my left, and from this view I can see that the ribbon is hanging to the floor, the tree skirt is balled up (Kendall likes to think it’s a blanket and snuggle with it), and the bottom half, with it’s branches twisted askew, is peppered with poorly placed plastic balls, giant jingle bells, and a spider finger puppet. Last night he put his football in it for safe keeping.

Next year I’m going to petition to wait to put the tree up until the week of Christmas. I don’t know how successful I’ll be considering Scott is Buddy The Elf’s first cousin and it’s all I can do to get him to Respect The Turkey and not put any decorations up or play any music until after Thanksgiving. Or maybe next year threats will work. Maybe next year he’ll fully grasp the concept of Santa and I’ll use that as leverage. Either way, I realized this week that I may not have a “beautiful” tree for a very long time, but I’m okay with that. The look of amazement on his face when I turn on the lights every morning, the Whoa!’s and Yay!’s are worth it.

Kendall is 19 months old