Wednesday, November 23, 2011
We've got a hot pink glittery star atop our Christmas tree.
(that picture doesn't do it justice. in real life it's pink. hot pink.)
Cate picked it out at Target yesterday and I didn't have the heart to tell her no. (We were in need of a new tree topper since I chopped way too much off the top of the tree for my usual angel to stand up straight. It wasn't a frivolous purchase. Sort of.)
Actually I just didn't really care about the hot pink glitter star. I've given up on having control of the Christmas tree. I'm not going to be winning any awards for best matchy cutesy decorated tree.
BUT I have one happy kid (dare I say she's tickled pink?) due to that hot pink glittery star.
And now, because I obviously need a little humbling after all that "hey, i'm a good mom because i sacrificed the perfectly decorated tree in order to have a happy kid. kids matter! trees don't!" stuff...
As I was quickly losing my patience whilst wrapping strands of lights around the bottom branches of our 80's themed Christmas tree (appropriate theme for a hot pink star I think), I asked the kids an important question.
"What's the real meaning of Christmas?" said I. They said um and uh and then nothing so I rephrased the question. You have to do that with these kids, I've found.
What is Christmas really about? Why is it important? Who do we think about at Christmas?
Stuff like that.
The rest of it went something like this:
Um, nope. Try again.
Oh, good grief. No.
* * * * *
And then I hung my head in shame.
So, yeah. I've got some work to do. They're 5 and 3.
If they're still giving those same answers in 10 years I'm going to be super duper worried.
And totally not a good mom anymore.
Hot pink star or not.
Posted by Cathy at 5:28 AM