oh by gosh, by golly

  

my husband came home with a tree wednesday night; he came through the door with the petite douglas fir under his arm as casually as if it were a bag of groceries. we were in the other room flipping through cardboard books, the little and i, when we heard the green needles brush the entryway. we rushed out to greet him with unbridled enthusiasm. baby's first christmas (tree)! 

the house was instantly bathed in the bright scent of pine, which became more saturated as we let her sit and the branches fall. we gave the girl a few turns to find her "good side" and dolled her up with lights and garland.

as we sat in that soft familiar glow, my husband and i reminisced on christmas' past; remembering nights long passed, falling asleep in front of other such trees. but we're parents now; it seems selfish to hold on to that longing when we should be creating new memories for our son. 

dicken's wrote, "it is good to be children sometimes, and never better than at christmas" though, so maybe we'll just let the boy fall asleep on our chests and we'll all doze off wrapped in the cozy light.