"Aren't we going to burn it?"
Part of the fun of having a live Christmas tree from our local Rural King is lighting it on fire as Easter approaches. (He is risen indeed!). I'm not sure how a Christmas tree in March can produce flames 8 feet tall, but we look forward to it every year. Honestly, it's an inappropriate tradition that we all love.
Our other tradition is the gingerbread houses. My boys aren't as excited about this, but the girls still love it. This year we waited until after Christmas. Wow-- $1.89 will take you all the way with the gingerbread kit at Aldi today. Emily's looked neat and tidy with dripping icicles and gumdrop trim. Somehow, Brenna's had a structural weakness. No matter how we caulked with icing, propped with canned goods and gripped it together, she was short a wall and one side of the roof. How was this possible? It was the same exact kit Emily had used.
Here's the kicker though-- when we placed both houses side by side on the top of the dining room hutch, (a tradition started when I had toddlers who would potentially choke on the ornamental gumdrops if I dared to take a bathroom break) both houses looked fine. It was all in the angle of perspective-- kind of like how I can stand to the side and prop my hand on my hip to attempt to look thinner. Sometimes it works.
A mama recently shared a struggle with receiving Christmas pictures from friends in the mail. Their family is going through a difficult time and it hurts. Looking at pictures of coordinating outfits and smiling children in what appears to be a cohesive family unit is almost more than she can bear. "They can't all have it all together, can they?" I love a good family picture as much as the next person. But no, probably few families truly have it all together. It's just the angle of perspective. For heaven's sake, we have someone else photograph our family simply because one of my kiddos is more likely to behave and less likely to cross his/her eyes if they know we're paying someone to take our picture.
Christmas is tricky. Holidays tend to magnify emotions that we already have, layered with expectations that we carry along with us. My tree is down, but I'm leaving the gingerbread houses up for awhile.
