Tannenbaum

Yes, I've been more than emotional the past couple of months.  Today was the first time in 28 years I went to get a Christmas tree without one (or both) of my kids.  Pulling into the Christmas tree lot I witnessed young families with babies and toddlers in tow excitedly running around looking for the PERFECT tree.  Pangs of jealousy ravaged me.  The tantrums, bickering, and squabbles involved in tree selection escaped me this year as there was nobody to argue with. 

ahhhhhhhhh. memories.  I remember hauling the Christmas ornaments down out of the attic with one kid on my hip and the other clinging to my leg and still managed to put lights on the tree, decorate the house, and still get the kids fed, bathed, and into bed before 8:00 PM -- and still have the energy to prepare for the meeting of the board of directors the following morning.

Which now brings me to Christmas Past.  When I first moved to California back in the 1980's my aunt, who was a farmer/rancher in North Dakota, made me a manger scene as a gift.  It's something that I cherish and would save in a fire.  Every year I cry when I put it up, and I cry when I take it down.  Over the years I've had incidents involving the manger scene that included my son playing ball in the house (when I told him not to) and breaking the head off the little drummer boy.  I was SUPER angry, but managed to salvage the little drummer boy's head with strategically placed super glue.

It was not the only mishap my manger scene endured.

Then there was Sophie the cat.  I loved Sophie.  She was dark, charcoal grey with big green eyes.  She was an abused kitten who found her way to my doorstep and I took her in.  However, she HATED everybody else and was more protective of me than a pitbull.  She had an attitude.  She would hop up where the manger scene was and knock down the Three Wise Men.  Thankfully, they did not break to pieces upon hitting the floor.

Then there was my daughter's friend, Alexa.  Alexa and my daughter werethisclose during elementary school.  Alexa came from an Irish Catholic family (the dad was actually FROM Ireland and the mother with Irish ancestry).  Alexa practically lived at my house for about 2 years when the girls were in 4th - 6th grade.  Christmas time came.  Alexa helped us decorate the house for Christmas.  We get to my manger scene.  I explained to the girls while we were putting it up why it was so special to me.  Alexa and my daughter were eating up my stories of my North Dakota aunt and how the manger scene came to be in my possession.

The next day I came home to a missing baby Jesus from the manger scene.  Alexa and my daughter were sitting humbly on the sofa watching Sponge Bob, Hillary Duff (Lizzy McGuire), That's So Raven, and other Nicoledeon/Disney tv trash.  No, I don't believe in media censoring.  Censoring only heightens the attraction and mystique and drives them TO IT.   I do, however, believe in watching it with them and asking them questions about WHY it's trash without chastising or belittling them.

I'm getting off track.  I came home and my baby Jesus was missing from the manger scene.  It was only my daughter and Alexa in the house.  WHERE WAS BABY JESUS!!!!!  I'm psyCHO about my precious manger scene.  EVERYBODY WHO KNOWS ME KNOWS NOT TO MESS WITH IT!!!!!  Alexa meekly piped up and said, "Baby Jesus isn't born until Christmas Day.  I hid him."

Of course.  It makes perfect sense in Alexa's culture.

In loving memory of Aunt Emmy - and that's not just a sappy Hallmark sentiment.  I really mean it.