O Christmas Tree

The night before Christmas Tree cutting it was snowing when I went to bed.  It took me a while to fall asleep with the anticipation swirling in my head.  Funny thing is most the time the day is uneventful.  We drive, we search, we cut, we eat, and drive home.  But for some reason it is one of my favorite adventures.  I have come to believe that tree cutting symbolizes the beginning of the Christmas season.  It is when Christmas music becomes acceptable, shopping begins, and the smell of balsam fills our home.  Its like the prologue to all the anticipation, love, and warmth of the season.

We decided, after much debate, that the easiest way to get Wyatt up the mountain with the snow was by a little sled that I bought at the Fair at St. John's.  Considering that the stroller would not fit in the car and the backpack carrier did not fit my torso it was about the only option we had.  It was a sad realization that we might not all fit in the same car.  Dare we regress to a minivan?!  Oh, the horror!  Mom's Toyota has a third row of seats that only a chipmunk could fit in comfortably.  So, naturally the honor went to Lizzy.  Rebecca and I made a Wyatt sandwich and we were off.

The sled worked like a charm with Wy bundled in his snowsuit and perfect boots. He was fascinated with the snow and barely moved the entire sleigh ride.  Although that might have been because he couldn't move he was so bundled reminiscent of the boy in "The Christmas Story".  It was quite frigid so we were up, cut and down very quickly.  3 trees in all this year.  It was hard work pulling him up but even trickery work pulling him down.  I was afraid that I was going to loose control at any minute which resulted in me pretty much on my hands and knees guiding the sled down.  I swear he was the cutest bundle on the mountain.

Another nice surprise was my friend Kelly met us for the festivities. She lives about 20 minutes from where we cut trees so it was a no brainer.  I ruminated about how all our families will carry on the tradition in later years.  Of course during lunch Wyatt decided to take the funkiest poo imaginable.  I couldn't change him in the car because there was no room and the restaurants bathroom was out of order.  I carried him and supplies to Dunkin' Donuts praying for a changing table.  But, alas, none to be found.  So, true McGiver style I laid down a blanket and changed him on the floor then promptly Purell'd both of us.  A first for everything.  And of course the Winery ran out of my favorite wine, Raspberry Rhapsody.  Last year I bought a bottle specifically for after I gave birth coined "My Birthing Wine" I love it so much.  I had to settle for the strawberry this year.  So, I guess it was mildly eventful and another success.