Jingle Jingle....

I wouldn't call myself a Scrooge...maybe a Scroo...or maybe a medium sized grump. I don't like decorating for the holidays. There...I said it. I'm not a seasonal decorator at all. I've never understood the fascination with putting a bunch of hearts all over the place for Valentines Day, eggs and bunnies out for Easter, a massive cornucopia in the middle of the table at Thanksgiving, nor the massive amounts of decorations that litter yards for Christmas.

I love her to death, but my mother is the queen of seasonal decorating. We would always dread the day after Thanksgiving when we were kids because that only meant one thing...hauling up the 372 bins of Christmas decorations out of the basement. The funny thing is that me, my brother and my two cousins (who are practically my sisters) hate decorating for the holidays. Hate may be too harsh of a word. Hmmm....greatly dislike...that's better.

This feeling started to change last year when I was pregnant with Isaac. I was eight months pregnant during Christmas last year so Marcus and I decided to stay at home for the holiday due to the fact that I couldn't sit in the car for more than 15 minutes. It was lovely. We missed our families but it was such a sweet time for the two of us. I started to think about how warm and inviting my parents house is at Christmas. It's always warm and inviting, but with the smell of Christmas candles, the tree, the millions of little trees she has peppered around the house, and all of the love and time she puts into making the house scream CHRISTMAS IS HERE made me reconsider the decorating bit.

Then the unthinkable happened...I ventured out to buy a Christmas tree. ME!! BUYING A CHRISTMAS TREE! Granted it's all of four feet tall and artificial, but dang, it's a TREE! And...wait for it...I bought silver decorations for the TREE. AHHH!! I'M GOING CRAZY!!!

I just couldn't deny Isaac Christmas decorations. Granted, I know he doesn't know the difference this year, but I want to start fun traditions for us and give him the chance to experience all of the fun of Christmas, but teach him the beautiful truth of what the holiday is really all about. THAT I can get into.

And he can decide for himself if he wants to carry on the tradition of being a stick-in-the-mud like his dear old Mama.