O Tannebaum

Last night, we decorated our Christmas tree. We usually pick out our tree with The Kid but this year he was acting like, well, a teenager and didn't want to come. So, The Husband and I picked it out ourselves. We always put the lights and garland on, but wait until The Kid is over to hang the ornaments.
After dinner, I tried to get everyone into the Christmas spirit so we could decorate. I cued up the holiday music, I poured the egg nog and I lit the cinnamon-scented candles. But the only being who seemed to catch on to my enthusiasm was the dog. The Kid was furiously trying to earn achievements on his xBox profile and wants nothing to do with "that corny stuff." The Husband had work to do in the garage (he lost his job the day after we were married, so moneywise we're really stressed right now and take any and all sidework he is offered).
So, our first Christmas as a married couple, as an official stepfamily, and I find myself decorating the tree alone. This, of course, leads me to spike the egg nog.
As I sat in the front room unwrapping our ornaments, I was flooded with memories. The first group of ornaments I unwrapped were the ones from our first Christmas living together - 5 years ago. We really had no money then and it was a stretch even to get a tree. My then-boyfriend, Clark Griswold , picked out the biggest tree at the farm; it barely fit in our tiny apartment. We found some mismatched lights and tinsel and went to town. But, we had no ornaments. I had never had a tree since living on my own and he had hardly anything Christmas-y left after the divorce, so collectively we had nothing. What to do? Lucky for us, we live near the beach. I spent an afternoon braving the frigid wind to collect seashells. We then scraped together $3.87 and bought some gold spray paint. And voila:

Our first Christmas "living in sin" saw our hodge-podge tree decorated with handmade seashell ornaments, random strings of lights and sparse clumps of tinsel. But I remembered so much more than that Christmas with these ornaments. I remembered looking for months for an apartment with a second bedroom, for The Kid, that was in our price range. I remembered having CPS inspect our apartment and writing a report saying it was a safe environment, only to have The Ex deny his visits unless she walked through herself. I remembered letting my boyfriend cry on my shoulder because he missed his son so much. I remembered finally making some headway in court, only to have to leave the house every time The Kid came over.
I found many, many more ornaments that brought back many other memories of people I love and places I've been. The rum in my drink probably caused me to dwell longer than normal on each and every bauble.
One of the last ornaments I unwrapped was this one:

This was given to me last year by The Kid. It was the first Christmas present he ever gave me. I know it wasn't easy for him to get me a present. He either had to ask his mom to buy it, or he had to buy it on the sly with his own money. Whatever the method, he didn't want me to be forgotten and he made sure he acknowledged me. He may never know it but it means the world to me.
I hung on one of the topmost boughs, right next to one of my seashells. What a reminder of how far we've come. 5 years ago we celebrated amidst heartbreak. This year, I'm decorating the tree while The Kid swears at his video game in the next room, comfortable in our home and happy that we are a family.
As I was wrapping up the decorating session, my husband joined me. And slowly, but surely, The Kid pried himself away from the TV. What started off as a sort-of lonely task ended on a bright note. We cheerfully put the finishing touches on this year's tannenbaum, together, as a family.

And the tree looks great, ifIdosaysomyself!

Yes, marriage is hard. Yes, marriage to a man with kids is probably harder. But its moments like this, moments that make you look back on your beautiful (tumultuous, triumphant, treasured) history, however long or short, that make it worthwhile. I look forward to Christmas in another 5, 10, 25 years when I have even more ornaments to unwrap and even more memories to cherish.


*pardon the photo quality; all I had at my disposal was my phone