trimming a tree

Two days later, we decorated the tree. My siblings brought all of the boxes down from the attic, and my dad got to work stringing lights and garland. We played Christmas music and got right to the business of being festive. Jameson hung his share of ornaments and had a blast. Even William had fun. We ate our first round of Christmas cookies and breathed deeply of sweet piney air. And when we turned off the lamps, lit candles, and gazed at the tree, we didn’t even mind that it’s the tiniest little thing we’ve ever had. ‘Cause it’s still beautiful, and mostly, it’s still special.

getting a tree

Two weeks ago, we spent the morning trekking through mud and muck to find a Christmas tree. It was our first morning in New York, and I couldn’t think of a better way to start our visit than with a family outing full of slips and spills, group decision (ack!), fresh country air, and cold cheeks. William cried most of the time, but the rest of us loved it.

(And probably my favorite picture of all is the one where Jameson is following his Papa. He shadows him everywhere and likes to know exactly where Papa is at all times. So cute.)

we’ve been…

Outside, a storm is blowing and swirling, and from my cozy chair, the drama of white flakes on gray sky is beautiful. (It’s not as pretty when you’re driving in it.) My littlest brother worried about the possibility of a brown and drab Christmas, but this week’s weather has provided us with the winter wonderland he’s been hoping for.

Jameson is in heaven. He’s always loved being here, but this time I think he’s enjoying it more than ever. He flits in his zest-for-life sort of way from room to room, thrilled to find that here at Nana’s house, there’s someone doing something fun in almost every corner of the house. He helps with stirring the pancake batter, stringing the electric guitar, making snow angels, and consuming hot chocolate. Movies, books, games, and light sabers, not to mention a doting aunt at every turn — this is heaven. His eyes are constant sparkle, and as he recounts his days to me, I hear sheer happiness.

William felt snowflakes on his eyelashes for the first time this afternoon, and his baffled and delighted expression was priceless. He stretched out his arms and turned his face to the sky, while fluffy white gathered on his upturned chubby hands. Yesterday and today, he was left with a friend and an uncle while I went to a concert and a luncheon, and he did fine. This is definitely new! The Christmas tree is all magic to him, but the highlight of this trip, so far, is Louissa’s yellow bird in the white cage hanging in the corner of the kitchen. William is enthralled with Gigi.

And me? I’ve been to the salon for a haircut, to my sisters’ houses for cookie decorating and chats, a concert featuring the Vienna Boys’ Choir, and to church; I’ve decorated a tree, watched movies in a candlelit family room, Christmas shopped with my mama, and snuggled my babies without the cares of a household to maintain. Tonight there will be a little birthday celebration with my two lovely longtime friends who may as well be sisters. And of course, there will be parties and dinners and sing-alongs and impromptu game nights. I wish everyone could celebrate Christmas and family here. It’s the best.

landed

We flew into New York Friday night, just the three of us. It was a long day that began at 3:30am, filled with the wrangling of carry-ons and car seats, constantly changing movies and handing out snacks, appeasing tired and cranky babes, and being plain old exhausted. I don’t love travel days, BUT! But. They eventually end. We land, at long last, and there’s nothing more wonderful than the first deep breath you take when you’re finally free from the confines of a tin-can-in-the-sky and can forget about keeping the carry on perfectly organized. Heaven.

So yes, we made it, and the boys really were wonderful. I can’t complain. Jameson didn’t sleep a wink, which completely baffled me, and William didn’t do much better, but somehow, the hours slipped by with only a few “events”. Mostly, we were just super-duper excited about getting to Nana and Papa’s house.

Did I just say there’s nothing better than the first deep breath after landing? Well, I take that back. That feeling is wonderful, for sure, but pulling to a stop in front of the homiest home in the world, stepping out into clear, crisp air that “smells like snow!” (according to Jameson), and passing through that red front door into the warm and eager embraces of the dearest of people?

That is truly wonderful.