If a Christmas Tree Could Talk

Brown paper packages tied up with string... These are a few of my favorite things!




My tree every year talks to me. It whispers of Christmas past and memories of the younger seasons of my life. It keeps a history of people I love and some who I miss. It reflects the art work of my small children, some who are now growing up and will be decorating trees of their own in the blink of an eye.

I thought I would share some of my ornaments. They are really more memory triggers for me. I love to sit in a darkened room with only the glow from the lights of the tree and remember.

My kids don't know about pondering ornaments yet. I didn't appreciate the ponderability of ornaments until I started putting ornaments of my own on.

In no particular order because I loaded them all at once and it's a pain to move the pictures all around.

Recruit 4 made this. I don't remember when, but thank goodness he put his name on the bottom of it! Not all kid-made ornaments survive. This is special because he is disgusted with me every year when I can't remember who made it EVEN with the name on bottom. He is NOT the one to forget what ornament he made and yet I do, every year.

Speaking of Recruit 4. This is his baby's first Christmas ornament. He doesn't particularly care for it I think. It's not very manly. He looks for it every year to hang though. He would know if it were missing...

Island Girl sent this to me after we left Camp Pendleton. I was involved in stuff there and was a part of EWC for a couple of years. Camp Pendleton was actually a working ranch at one time and the Eagle Globe & Anchor is set in the middle of what was the brand. See, bet ya thought this was The Marine's ornament. Nope, it's mine.

This is Recruit 5 or 6. I can't tell without looking at the year. I had to buy ornaments back to back since one had a first Christmas 03 and the other 04. I just loved having babies at Christmas. Except the Christmas Recruit 4 screamed all through Christmas dinner. I spent most of it in the bedroom with him. He was a November baby so he was just being new and difficult. Now he is just difficult. Especially when I don't remember who made the penguin ornament.

This is the other one of Recruit 5 or 6. They don't know this isn't very manly yet.

This decoupage ball is one of six. We bought them our very first Christmas. Well, I bought them. The Marine was on a border op in Arizona.

I still love the old fashion style. AND the kids can't break these. The very first balls my mother had on her tree in Spain were blue and fragile. They survived many years until Recruit 3 came along. She broke one. I remember it vividly to this day. I was mortified. My mother was so kind. I hope I'm kind to my children.

I didn't know when I bought these how smart I was buying something that would stand up to grand kids one day. I remember my first married Christmas well. Others since then are blurs.

This is one from a set of 12. They were also on our first tree. This is the 5 golden rings. We received them as a gift from The Marine's Grandma. His mom's mom. We still have them minus two. They are REALLY hard to find when taking down the tree. I'm pretty sure I know the year the two MIA ornaments disappeared.

Another relic from Christmas 1989. My mom sent me this Texas Christmas ornament. We weren't going home from California for Christmas. The first time I had ever spent Christmas away from my family. I was so sad that year. We drove home right after Christmas. My parents paid for the gas. The Marine bought me a toaster for Christmas though and a leather jacket with Fringe. It made me not be quite so sad that Christmas morning.

This is one of four. My mother-in-law painted each of the four children's names on them. The other two weren't around yet. I always love hanging these little angels. Reminds me who my children really are. Especially when they aren't acting like the ornament.

Recruit 1. She's the closest to leaving. I always thought I would give each one of them their ornament for their tree. But no. I've decided they can have them when I die. They are my babies' first Christmas ornaments. Emphases on the word MY. I really bought them for me each year, even though I didn't realize it then. Sorry kids. I changed my mind. These are mine.

Ornaments show our heritage. My mother-in-law again gave us this. I love this claddagh.

This is one of the ornaments that represent my dad. He was a pilot. He passed away in 2005. He liked Christmas. He loved having my children home for Christmas.

Recruit 2 has TWO. Last year I couldn't find his baby's first Christmas and I was so upset. I didn't tell him. I went online, found it and ordered it. Probably double the cost or more of the first one. I couldn't let him know. I just knew he'd be crushed. (I was crushed) Again, it's really about me, I just project onto my children. This year we found it. He now knows. He hung them together.

The only Christmas my Dad came to my house. We lived in California. We rented one of the trailers that used to be on Del Mar beach. I believe they've built cabins since then. We put up a Christmas tree in the trailer for Mom and Dad. These sea shells Island Girl and I glittered. There are others. I remember that Christmas well. It was nice even if it was really different.

Mom gave me this a year or two ago. It's their wedding picture. I should buy six of these if I can find them. I'll give the kids a picture of The Marine and I instead of their baby ornaments for their trees. I'm sure they'll appreciate us staring at them and their spouse all through Christmas....

My Grandmother sent us envelopes that go on the tree. When I was little the envelopes on the tree were from my Great Grandmother. My tree shows the generations and the marching on of life and posterity.

It makes me sad in some ways and in other ways it is very comforting. One day I'll be the white envelopes on a tree. Posterity I've not yet met.

My children are all so diverse, talented, and unique. I can't wait to meet my grandchildren. (well I can wait, you know what I mean... I already love them but don't want them here any sooner than their future parents should bring them....)

It figures the Recruit who got left out of the Christmas shopping would be the last baby ornament. Recruit 3 hides her ornaments deep in the tree. I had to pull this out AFTER she showed me where she tucked it. Not sure why. Maybe I should explore that further, but um, no.

My newest ornament. It came in a small brown box in the mail. My sweet friend April, another Marine Wife, sent it to me! I was so tickled to get it and it's beautiful. A tree made with bells. April you're now part of my pondering!

Most importantly my tree makes me grateful. I have so much. It reminds me of all that I have. Our tree topper is the Angel Moroni. He faces the east waiting to trumpet the return of our Savior. I am grateful for that Christmas night so long ago when our Savior was born and Herald Angels sang. My tree makes me want to sing too. But, that wasn't the talent I was given, so I'll just end here saying I love my tree.

Where Have I Been??

Well I love the title of Island Girl's blog, Living in Oblivion... And while I haven't been exactly completely out of it, I have been somewhat running around chasing my tail. I thought I was finished shopping. I was happy and sat back and said, "I am very cool".

However...

There was this little nagging thought trying to push it's way into the forefront of my consciousness.

I began assessing the situation around the tree. Nothing was there from us for Recruit 3. AACK!

then....

I almost left my keys in Recruit 5's classroom. In a grocery bag. On the teacher's desk. This was the same teacher who I stood up sometime this past week for a routine parent teacher conference. I say sometime this week because I still don't know what day I was supposed to be there.

then...

I got dressed to go to yoga, took Recruit 6 to pres-school looking like an unkept house wife in pajamas only to realize with all I had to do and where I needed to be, there was no way I could make the yoga class. The only thing that made it okay to drop him off looking like a dirty frumpy house frau was I was going to go do warrior II and claim my inner guru. Now I was really a dirty unkept pj wearing house wife.

then...

GG, the Guard Guru bought us all clever and creative presents. I've only bought my children and The Marine thus far. AND I can't think of what to get her. She is so good at getting cool stuff that fits the person she's buying for. It makes me nervous and then frustrated looking for her. I'm going to ponder her a while. Maybe something will come to me. in a box. on my porch.... No really, I want to ponder this.

Then...

We only have a portion of our lights up. I didn't buy any more. We never only have part of our house done. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME???

AND....

We can't find Recruit 4's stocking and I haven't bought the fabric to make him a new one yet. It's the 19th for goodness sakes!

AND THEN....

I wanted to make Christmas cookies. Then I tried on some blue jeans at the store and saw what I was stuffing into them in the mirror. I was glad we hadn't made any, but really wanted to eat them even more to make myself feel better.

Soooo...

I bought a pair of Christmas pj's for myself. They are soooo fabulous. Red and a brushed mule or something, which in writing that sounds awful and must be a mistake on my part, but they don't get tangled in the sheets and they move with you. Really elegant looking too. Recruit 4 even noticed them. The first night I wore them he said (in front of The Marine too unfortunately),

"Hey Mom! You match the table cloth!"

Dang it. He was right. I did.

So now....

The Marine makes table cloth comments.

Therefore....

I sitting in the den listening to Recruits 4, 5, and 6 jump on the bunk beds instead of getting them ready for school. They think they are sneaky. The bed squeaks really bad.

They are also making up rhymes. They are so clever. Such delightful young men. I've got to go once again explain to them that poo, doo, and pee are not socially acceptable words to include in your rhymes. Especially when they are used twice in a row, over and over and over again...

Never mind they are now quoting Forest Gump.... OH WAIT! OH NO!

I just witnessed a mid- air collision right here in front of me. Recruit 5 and 6 smacked into each other about 6 feet in the air! Okay, 6 inches, but WOW...

Recruit 6 is flat on the ground. I can only see his legs sticking out behind a chair. They're not moving... I'm still blogging.. .hold on

Me: OH MY GOSH!!! Are you Okay? Recruit 6? RECRUIT ?!

Recruit 6: Yep.

He leaps to his feet in one swift oddly ninja like movement and yells: "THAT WAS AWESOME!"

Oh no, gotta go, they really did think it was awesome... they're setting it up to do again...... More importantly I don't want them missing the bus.

Decorating the Tree

Let me just start by saying I look WAY better in person than I do in this picture. My mom was still here and we were getting ready to leave for church. Tacky, I know. Look at the lip angle though, very cool... Reminds me of another post where I amazed myself with my elastic facial features.


Last-minute -before-church sustenance. Recruit 1 had been naughty so she was being punished by having to wear the radio active giant bauble necklace.

She is such a trooper though, she smiles through the pain...

Apparently this is not a good picture day for me.

Or Recruit 6.

You can always rely on Recruit 5 to make my photographic world right once again. How can you not LOVE those ears???

So after church the decorating began. The kids are pulling out strands of bead type garland I've had on my tree for YEARS. They do not like them and they all complain every year, yet on they go.

Why?

It's MY tree! In fact rarely have they been aloud to decorate the tree.

Why?

It's MY tree!

I have control issues.

This year I actually sat back and watched with a few well deserved directions. It is MY tree after all... I know, I know I already said that. Three times. Stuff is supposed to come in threes. I just doubled that theory when it came to kids... okay, way off topic moving on.

They don't like these because they tangle. And they have to untangle them.

Then they have to be re-twisted or braided. See my hand in the foreground. I was still helping. See that guy in the background? He's new.

I had forgotten that last year I bought two big containers of red tree ornaments. I was very excited when these were unpacked. There they are right there on the coffee table. Look at my Mother, so diligently untangling my beady garland. That's what Moms do, we untangle our children's beady messes.

Look at Recruit 4 being a diligent little elfy type helper.

Does this picture make you nervous? It should. Recruit 6 on a step ladder hanging ornaments and no one holding him or the tree.

However that little dexterious monkey didn't knock off one shiny red ball.

Neither did this little imp, although it is rather suspicious why he's looking toward the ground now that I really look at this picture...

Well whatever was happening, I will just assume Recruit 1 helped out. I think this is one of those pictures I'll look back on and say, "awwwwww". Then I'll say "Why didn't I make them dress better for pictures?"

The holidays can bring out odd behavior. These boys definitely have the ears to pull off this look though.

The Marine puts our Angel Moroni tree topper on after everything else is loaded on the tree. It's a fake tree by the way. I love it, but I miss the drama of a real one. sort of. Does it look like The Marine is going to hit me with our Angel Moroni tree topper?

But he didn't, he stuck it up where it belonged!

Everyone should write and congratulate me. This was the first year I stayed in one spot and didn't rearrange the tree after they were done! I am cured! sort of.

*If you want to know who the Angel Moroni is and why he is on our tree you can visit Mormon.org and use the live chat on the website. Or just ask me. I guess you could do that too, but a live chat option is way cooler than me.

Ramblings at 0136

It's 0136. Just like the title said.
I am awake. Obviously.

Does anyone else see why this is a bad thing? I have sleeping angels who will wake up in a few hours and who will want, of all things, to EAT. The audacity!

The good news is no one expects me to cook. It would be just too weird. It doesn't happen often and so I certainly don't want to set any unrealistic expectations by starting this Saturday.

Why am I up? I have the worst indigestion. At least I think it's indigestion. I've never had indigestion before. I had gas up really high when I was pregnant and this feels kind of like that. Minus the baby shoving all my organs up inside my ribcage of course. Everything seems to be just as low as can be and in their proper spot. ugh.

I drank some water with a drop of peppermint oil in it. It seems to be helping but now I'M AWAKE. Gone are the days when I could wake up, go to the bathroom, get a drink of water, adjust the thermostat and fall back blissfully asleep. Nope, no longer happening that way.

Now I know why I would wake up at 2 a.m. as a small child and smell bacon cooking finding my grandparents playing scrabble or some other board/card game. I am my Grandparents. Oh my. Only they were together and I'm all alone. HE is asleep but it's dicey waking him up.

What if it's not indigestion?

What if I'm having a heart attack and am ignoring it because I'm not old? (Please no comments that I am that old.)

Should I go wake up the Marine and ask him? Take the chance?

You know, normally I would, but last night Recruit 6 peed on me and I had to get up about this time. The Marine wouldn't get out of bed and offer to change the sheets so I stuck a towel up under the wet spot to get it off the mattress and then Recruit 6 and I slept on the couch.

Going back into the bathroom to get a blanket and pillow The Marine was all Marine-y and wanted to know why I was being so loud on purpose and why I just didn't crawl back in the bed next to the pee wet spot and him? He said the next morning a little incredulous, "You would have fit!" (should I be flattered?)

He was all gravel-y and jar-headish. No thank you. I 'd rather suffer in silence out here. That will teach him! Except... what if I'm really having a midio-cardio-infarction flatulation of the heart area? Back to last night. It takes my mind off my discomfort to complain a little more.

I just gazed on his sleep dazed face incredulous and irritated that I had been peed on AND he didn't care at all.

I slammed the door to the bedroom extra hard.

I heard something muffled in a gravel-y Marine-y voice but I don't remember what he said. It was some incredulous comment about why I was being so difficult.

Seriously.

I was incredulous as I tried to fit Recruit 6 and myself on the couch. I finally shoved him off onto the floor. He went and pulled our Marine Corps mink blanket Island Girl sent me when she went to Korea and made himself a pallet next to the couch.

It smells like boys and dogs. He is very resourceful. I woke up for scripture and prayer the next morning and he was back on the couch but at the other end WITH the stinky smelling mink Ooh Rah blanket. Gross.

I was no longer incredulous. Just tired and I smelled like o'de lab.

Now I'm just AWAKE and now it's 0152.

You know, I seem to remember eating some artichoke and spinach hummus with these sea salt and rosemary Focaccia sticks, and then I ate about 1 or 10 of these chocolate and peppermint dark chocolate squares and then I ate about 1/3 to a whole bag of popcorn with maybe 1 or 2 tablespoons of ranch flavored popcorn salt all within about 30 minutes. Not sure, but maybe it's not a flatulent infarction of the heart. Maybe it is some sort of diet related bad moment. OHMYGOSH!!! could the lining of my heart be swelling from all the salt? Is that even possible?

Oh, wait, and let me say I am soooo thankful I'm alone right now because I'm belching enough for all 7 of my disgusting family members put together. Peppermint is kicking in.

I say disgusting because I'm THE only one who does not join in the musical symphony in this house that is body functions. Yes even my girls. It's disgusting and embarrassing and I apologize to all who have and will be subject to the disharmonious chords played within the walls of our dwelling. Or wherever two or more recruits are gathered.

Well I think I am going to live. Thank goodness!

I'd hate to ask The Marine to wake up to diagnose me.

I'd be subject to one of his two middle of the night personalities. It would either be the nasty Master Guns with the gravel-y Marine-y gurgle, or Don Juan with an Edwardian type hypnotic power over me.

Well, after almost twenty + years I've figured out how to ignore both successfully. Okay, the door slamming last night was not my best effort. Either way I'm not interested in either personality being awakened.

Well (looking around, tapping fingers on table) Guess I'll drink a little more peppermint water and go lay back down and see if I can go to sleep. If not I apologize for any gravel-y Marine-y wife behavior I may display tomorrow if we have the misfortune to interact. Just know I'm tired and almost died tonight from salt induced heart swelling or the mido-cardio flatulent infarction I almost had....

Thanksgiving Finished OFF

It's all over. We are in the throes of Christmas and Turkey day is gone. The left overs are not. I really did cook dinner this year. And I was able to put make up on and smile. I consider the holiday a success!

Oh my goodness, oh my goodness. The Turkey's came out of their respective cooking contraptions. This is the brined and roasted bird. Not bad for my first brining experience if I do say so myself. And I do. Say so myself. I always thought that was a crazy saying. It's obvious myself said so since I'm the only poster here.

Now this bad bird was smoked all day long. The dark meat was delicious! The white meat ended up drying out because the turkey wasn't finished cooking all the way. We slow roasted it longer the next day. Needless to say in all my excitement to do two turkeys I over estimated the amount of left overs. WOW!

Dinner was a casual affair. I didn't make everyone dress up. They were all playing hard. I think they washed their hands.... OF COURSE they did, just kidding... maybe.

Recruit 3 has been making the weirdest faces lately in pictures. I hope it's a strange photo phase she will grow out of. She is actually a beauty, just with Elasta girl's face lately...

Everyone looks tired. We ate later than we probably should have. The cans of soda annoyed me. But it was casual dinner with good china. Next year I'll 'stage' a good picture and then let reality set in.

See, Recruit 3 just looks odd. At least The Grandmother looks fab! She and I changed our shirts. We were clean for dinner.

Pure torture! Seriously! We expected him to spend time EATING with us IN THE SAME room at THANKSGIVING! We are horrible horrible parents! I love teenagers.

OH LOOK! A FAB picture of Recruit 3. She has a lot of hair.

So the turkey was tasted, my butternut squash mocked and the corn and rice casserole sniffed. What does one do now? I like to call it the Turkey Aftermath.

You've all seen posts of this kid being bathed right? Good, just so we're clear. I have no control over where, when, and how this kid gets his "off" button pushed.

Tooooo..... Much..... TUR---K-ee-ee...

even Red was sleeping. Sitting up. Weird. The flash started waking him up. No one else moved. I was lonely.