We put our tree up last night (in case you need a brilliant tip about how to hang your lights on your tree, I have one). I firmly believe that Christmas decorating should occur the weekend after Thanksgiving Thursday. Not before. Not after. My hubby tried to fight me on it this year saying we had too much going on that weekend, but I fought back and won.

It is tradition. You don’t mess with tradition.

He understands this because growing up it was his tradition to get a real tree. I grew up with a fake tree and have tried for many years to convince him that this is the more economical solution. I almost got him to budge last year with some after Christmas sales, but in the end it didn’t work.

I should know better than to try but this year I brought my arguments to the table again. He looked at me in mock seriousness and said, “Having a fake tree at Christmas is like having a fake Jesus.” Okay then. Clearly the man has some VERY strong feelings about his trees.

As a side note: I posted this on Facebook and one of my friends noted that he must be very into live nativity scenes in the house because plastic ones would not do. How awesome would that be to have some camels and and a gaggle of shepherds hanging out on your coffee table?

Anyway, the house is decorated for Christmas and it just puts me in my happy place. The kids go to sleep and I turn off all the lights in the house except the Christmas tree and just bask in its glow. It is the most beautiful place in the world.

Until it isn’t. Until the daylight hours when I spend my time yelling, “Don’t touch that tree”. “Don’t get so close.” “What was that crash?????”

Yes, the kids were home from school approximately 2.3 seconds before we had our first ornament casualty. Actually Silas the littlest one of the bunch has been the most respectful of the tree. It was the big girls twirling around the living room to Christmas music that hit a branch and knocked an ornament to its death.

I am fairly confident that I am becoming a tree Scrooge. In fact I hashtagged #treescrooge today on Twitter. Is it against the spirit of Christmas to sit near my tree like a crotchety old man and scream at my kids “Stay away from my tree!!!!!”?

Forget that creepy little elf from the shelf. I am going to design some sort of Tree Scrooge that somehow screams at kids when they get within 3 feet of the tree. That’ll put everyone in the holiday spirit. Judging from the word on Twitter and Facebook, I am pretty sure I would make a killing.

Fess up in the comments. Are you a tree scrooge?

You know how they tell you you shouldn’t be friends with your kids. You shouldn’t’. But when you are older and out of your parents house, you know what is really cool? When you can throw that rule at the window and your mom in fact becomes one of your best friends.

I am super blessed that my mom lives close and that I get to see her often. I am also super blessed that throughout the years we have remained very close. Especially considering what I put her through during the teenage years (well she wasn’t exactly a picnic either).

But as honored as I am to call her my friend, I am even more honored to call her my mom. All the good parts that I bring to motherhood I do because she was my example. 

Thank you mom for being my mom, my friend and my example. I am so blessed to have you!!

Disclosure: This post is my genuine feelings. Yes, it is mushy, but I really wrote it. And although my mom frequently offers to watch my kids for me for free that should not be seen as compensation for this post. It is just an AWESOME bonus of being her daughter.