Before the girls came into our lives, we totally prided ourselves on our beautifully decorated tree and house for Christmas. Nearly every ornament on our tree is hand selected from a place that we have visited, is handmade, or is very unique. We've collected them over the years and I still have fond memories of P and I sitting in our teeny tiny condo, drinking Bailey's, listening to Dean Martin sing carols, and admiring the perfectly decorated tree.
Flash forward to now...our house is a mish-mash of decorations we purchased long ago and all kinds of fun handmade things. Snowmen with their hats on upside down, Santa Claus with one short leg and one long, gingerbread people with too many fingers. And then there's our tree. Our once-perfect tannenbaum has a cluttered, jumbled ring around the bottom. Branches with six ornaments, some facing the wrong way. Limbs with ornaments laying on them because the little string loop was too hard to use for tiny, impatient hands. At first, as I sat there watching it all unfold, I had to stop myself from saying, "Girls...not so many on one branch". But then as I watched, it got more and more beautiful. Further and further away from the trees we used to have, but more perfect in every way.
This is the first Christmas in two years when we are not aching for a tiny little girl on the other side of the world. The season hasn't been perfect for us with Mama recovering from surgery. Cards are going out late, decorations are going up at the last minute, and every single item on Santa's list will not have a check next to it. But the most important things are right here, running through our house singing Rudolph and Jingle Bells and hanging up their drawings of blue Christmas trees and pink reindeer. This is what Christmas is all about, and it's beautiful, in every way.