Oh, Christmas Tree.

I love tradition.

I love that we go to the same place every year (minus the three years we lived in Philly, obviously) to get our Christmas tree. This place is the best.

So, if you take out the time that we lived in Pennsylvania, this marks our tenth year getting our tree at this little farm. And the only thing that ever changes over the years is the weather, the time of day when we get it, and the amount of hoolies that we have had tagging along!

We have gotten our tree in short sleeves, in pouring rain, in a sleet storm where we literally had to let our tree thaw before we could decorate it, and in blizzards where it was slightly ridiculous to be out on the roads. We have had newborns sleeping in car seats, wrapped in snuglies, and toddlers tripping over tree stumps right and left. One of my most favorite things is to look back at our pictures over the years and mark our families' growth each December when we come here.

I rarely choose the tree.

This year, the boys chose our tree within thirty seconds of being out in the field. Although I thought it was fine, I encouraged us to at least look around at some other possibilities, for goodness sake. Let's draw the date out at least a bit, shall we?

So Daddy marked it with his baseball cap, and then Jesse flung himself from tree to tree yelling: "This one? How about this one? This one? That one? Do you like this one? That one? WHICH one?", Ransom proceeded to trip over just about every single tree trunk that had already been cut down, and Kaden waited patiently for us to come back to the one that he knew was already perfect.

And he was right. So, he got the honor of cutting it down.

With a small amount of assistance...and some accompanying drumming on Daddy's bum from Jesse. He's real thoughtful, that way.

And then the fun part for Kevin and I is to make the two largest hoolies carry the tree all the way back to our car. Our middle child is a whirling dervish clutz who struggles to stay on his feet anyway, so it's always hysterical to watch him try and walk with something rather cumbersome to boot.

And then!

As tradition goes, we go inside their warm little gift shop for homemade donuts and hot apple cider, and then we have the sweetest little horse and buggy ride around their tree farm to complete our little family date.

It's my favorite, and it's lovely.

Family traditions counter alienation and confusion. They help us define who we are; they provide something steady, reliable and safe in a confusing world. ~ SUSAN LIEBERMAN, New Traditions

Yes. Tradition.
I love it.