Just like many, we decked our halls over the weekend. I was really dragging my feet this year on committing to getting out the Holiday decor as we have a baby who our doctors are beginning to feel will likely make his or her arrival before the New Year. But because we already have two other kiddos who are completely in love with the season, I couldn’t bear to completely shutdown tinsel town. Because while I have long had a love affair with all things related to Christmas, our children have that gotta-have-the-wonderment-of-the-season bug already, even at ages 2 and 4.
So, as I laid my feet up today, the man who I love more than any other, sprinkled Christmas cheer throughout the house and the boundless-energy brothers lent their helping hands. And I love them for it. Because even though we didn’t get out every little treasure, our home feels more complete for the season. And my heart feels peace knowing that our little corner of the world is just as I feel it should be.
Once all of the other decorations were in place, we got a tree. As we purchased it, I felt a small twinge of emotion. It was smaller than our usual grand, Noble Fir we gravitate toward. The ones that have filled the front room with so much twinkling glow. But it somehow felt more manageable and realistic this year given the babygate shake-up we have on our hands. And so we trotted it home, carefully picked places for the boys newest Hallmark finds and added in our favored treasures from past years. And then, when all was said and done, we placed the final piece, our Christmas Alligator.
You know… the old story of the Christmas Alligator?! And if you just said yes, you’re likely full of bull honkey. Because I don’t know of any background to this biter. Except for the fact that when I was a child, we always had Allie the Alligator, a stuffed green gator, guarding our tree. She was there to scare off present peekers. And oh, did I love her. She proudly boasts a bell around her neck served as a reminder that you didn’t mess with the gift gator. And this year, following our Thanksgiving dinner, my mother gifted myself and each of my siblings with our very own Allie. She had one of her dearest friends recreate the original and the boys already love that they now have one to call their own. And oh, do I love her, too.
So there she sits. As a symbol of tradition. And a reminder that all is as is meant to be. In front of the tree that at first sight, gave me pause. Because it somehow seemed less than. But once infused with the Christmas spirit, with our family spirit, I might say is my favorite yet.