This past Friday was our "Thirteenth Annual Family Fun Day of the Finding of the Christmas Tree Festivus!"
And just like it's name eludes to, it was a grand old time.
I don't ever call it that, by the way. I was just kidding. It's waaaay early in the morning, and I'm loopy.
But it WAS gloriously fun...
Our kids are the at perfect age where even the simplest of things are still so special and exciting. I am well aware that this age will last but a moment, and in just a few years that sweet simplicity will be long gone, so I'm really trying to embrace all that comes with it.
Christmas tree fruit platters and french toast with some Christmasy napkins thrown in for good measure.
They thought that was the neatest thing ever, and Mama earned some coolness factor points.
Methinks when they're teenagers, I won't get so any points for such a thing, so I shall milk it for now.
Anyway, per our tradition, we bundled ourselves to the hilt, since we always seem to pick the absolute most frigid day of the winter to pick our tree, and - also per our tradition we headed to our most favorite little spot in the world - Piper Mountain.
I LOVE this place. We have been coming here since the very first year of our marriage when we were skinny and childless, so I feel like we've kind of grown up here. I'm super nostalgic about tradition and memories, so I love that I can literally look back through our albums and be able to watch our family grow with each successive year.
THIS year, Jesse received the high honor of choosing the tree that we all agreed upon. Our family rule is that we all have to be happy with the tree choice...so whoever happens upon the one that we are all able to agree on feels like the grand winner. And this year we chose quickly. It. was. freezing.
Our choice went something kind of like: "Hey! That one looks good! Yeah, I like it. Me too. Can we go get a donut? Chop it down quick!"
And I'm pretty much there along for the ride.
Especially if it's freezing outside.
I wore my special Siberian jacket for the occasion....
Me and being chilly don't really jive.
And then, per our tradition - one or more...or ALL of the hoolies, including the largest one manage to get into a "wrestling-wing-the-tree-at-each-other-match." I think it all starts when they see Daddy laying on his belly as he chops down the tree. What can I say? When the opportunity arises...
Don't you see it coming?
I do believe that Sir Jester thinks he can really take on his Daddy...
I also believe the entire farm could here us that chilly morn...
Ah well...Just sharing the joy...sprinkling it ALL around.
Either that, or the vast amounts of immaturity were getting sprinkled.
I prefer to think of it as "The Joy." It sounds so much more Christmas-y, don't you think?
And THEN...since we're keeping it real, and I'm pretty much all about the food anyway, my favorite part is going into their sweet little gift shop and getting warmed up with their homemade donuts and hot apple cider. Also, per our tradition, at least one of the littles manages to spill half of his drink all over the floor....
Joy to the world.
We topped our day off with Christmas pasta, family naps, and then pizza and decorating!
Tis the Season....
I predict at least five broken ornaments this year. So far, we have one courtesy of Rancey Pants.
Drink some eggnog!
Tie your tree, so your wee hoolies and your wild kitties don't knock it over.
It's December...drink the marrow...savor the simplicity.
And throw everything else out the window.....