First holiday tree

Was put up last weekend. Along with the first decorations. These are meaningful because they were decorations given to my mother, by her aunt, for her first holiday tree as a married woman. Though Mark wasn’t eager about a tree, he kindly put it up. River was thrilled to help with the decorations. He looks at the tree with magic and appreciation in his eyes, and that alone makes it worth it.

I feel like I’m turning into a boring, stereotypical adult, taking on the rituals of holiday cards, a tree, and a soon-to-occur cookie exchange. But the truth is that I like it. I like the soothing glow of the lights, the family history represented in the ornaments, the beauty it adds to the room. I’m glad number two will come back to a place that looks welcoming and that she’ll see photos of her early days that reflect the season when she was born.

I like that River takes pride in his home and his environment. He’ll make comments, entirely unprovoked, such as “Our house is so big and beautiful. There is so much room to play.” (It’s actually not very big, but it’s larger than the place he spent his first 18 months).

Or “I don’t like (insert name of neighboring street).”

“Really?” I ask. “Do you prefer (insert name of our street)?”

“Yes.”

It’s good to have a base, a shelter and a family, where we all feel safe and comfortable and warm. I appreciate that now.