Holiday Spirit

It's been about, oh, six years or so since I have participated in a holiday decorating ceremony/ritual/party/job (all of the above). 

When I was little, I remember being so excited to adorn the house in Christmas apparel. Karen (my mom) would pull out her absurdly large collection of Christmas decor, and she would lay it all out on the family room floor for my brother and I to admire.

Let's get one thing straight here... this was no ordinary stockpile.  Over the years, Karen had built up an impressive assortment of any and all types of festive doodads.

And I'll be damned if I wasn't ready to Christmafy every nook and cranny of that house.  Once those ornaments and doohickeys were splayed out in front of me, it was game on.  This was SERIOUS.

My brother Mike and I would scamper around the house embellishing window sills, end tables, bookshelves, televisions, counter tops, railings, bathrooms, bedrooms, porches, door knobs, tissue boxes (yes!).  You see, Karen had a "thing" with Christmas.  She still does.... 

...and consequently, so do I.  Though I didn't realize it until recently, when it was time to orchestrate my own holiday decorating extravaganza, I have inherited my mom's Christmas cheer.

We put up our first Whitfield tree a couple of weekends back.  It is just the perfect piece of eye candy to get me in the holiday spirit.  Scott (my dad) and Bren (my hub) put the tree up and strung the lights.  Karen (momma) and Liam (my baby boy) helped hang bulbs and ornaments and bows.  And before I knew it, it was brightening everything around me, inside of me, through me.  I had forgotten... just how much significance decorating carried.  How much the decorations meant.  And most of all, how much I absolutely love sharing the process with my family.

Mom--- Thank you for passing on your holiday enthusiasm to me.  I love you, and your crazy obsession with tissue box covers!