This tree.

Growing up, our Christmas tree had white lights. We went to the Nutcracker Ballet at Christmas, and had a fancy Christmas dinner at The Hotel Vancouver. I am a sucker for tradition, for rituals that harken to a familiar rhythm that we cycle through each year. When our kids were old enough to care about Christmas, I started laying out plans for creating new traditions. The farm where we'd buy our tree each year, the one type of tree I adore that we'd get each year, the advent calendar I'd fill each year with a decorative craft for the kids to make together, the christmas pj's we'd all wear each year, the tasty baking we'd do each year, the old-skool lights I'd hang in our tall tree outside each year, the handmade stockings I'd make for each child that they would cherish (along with all these traditions) each year.

You know how that looks 10 years later? Hint: it's synonymous with the fresh wrinkles on my face and panic I feel every September.

Created traditions are a drain on fun. There, I've said it. Why? Because somebody made them happen for the others, and after many years of continuing to need to make this happen, somebody starts to loathe the whole process and has no one to blame but herself. The kids found the ballet boring when I took them years ago (frankly, so did I. My childhood memories are far better than the reality) The stress and panic of finding holiday pj's that are just right and not gender-based and fit everyone and don't cost a million bucks can really drive a mama crazy. Agreeing on a Christmas dinner menu that accomodates everyone's various diets, feels traditional, can be done a bit potluck-style . . . dammit! This is supposed to be fun.

But the most glorious thing occurs when you give in to life. It takes on it's own natural shape and rhythm, and you don't have to orchestrate anything, it happens.

* I was too overwhelmed to remember to get our advent calendar out of storage in time for Dec 1st. So we didn't have forced, pre-planned activities every day, we just did what we felt like doing. And I could stop fretting about filling all those little boxes with something creative and new. Cheers to that!

* When I went to put up our outdoor lights, I couldn't find the ladder (a lot of tools dissappear into the work truck and never resurface). So I struggled like an idiot, trying to hang the lights with a hockey stick while balancing on a patio chair. Then the kids asked if they could decorate some short bushes, and we ended up with 5 lovely little trees, each one a burst of light in the darkness, extending our many strings of lights all across the property. They exclaimed at the end "Can we do this every year? I LOVE having my own tree to put lights on!". What do you know, a tradition was born all by itself.

* The farm where we always bought our tree had run out of my favorite tree (a noble fir) as it has been plagued by some pest that stunts it's growth and now all the nobles are pre-cut imports and cost $100. So we walked up the street to our local garden centre and bought a sweet, little local Douglas Fir for $15. On the way we ran in to a bunch of neighbourhood families, all making this same local pilgrimage to buy the best little trees you can get. We stuck it on a little table, and it was as tall as the ceiling. And the whole process was exactly what I've always wanted. It was easy.

* When we got our decorations out for the tree, all the strings of white lights didn't work. So we used these cute bubble-gum-ball multicoloured lights, and it reminded me of the tree we'd decorate at my Dad's house after my parents got divorced, how it was covered in rainbow lights and bubble lights, and how initially, it looked so foreign and odd to me, 'cause I felt trees had to have white lights, had to look like my mom's tree, which was the best tree. But how I grew to love that rainbow tree, how I learned that bubble lights are actually an old thing from his childhood, not some new-fangled modern invention, how maybe he was creating what his tree looked like as a kid. I loved that. Our tree now has the bright red silk balls my mother had on her childhood tree, and the multicoloured lights of my father's tree. And the decorations from my childhood, Kit's childhood and ones our children have made over the years.

And of course we topped the tree with a Storm Trooper angel that I fashioned out of fabric and a vintage toy we got last year. We've never had a set thing we topped the tree with, so each year it's a new idea struck at the last minute, when the tree is almost finished.

The kids declared our tree topper as the best and want to use it ever year from now on. It's tradition.

xoxo
C