I was not looking forward to the holidays this year. November was a visit from my mother-in-law, a visit from my brother, and now my father-in-law. (Only my brother and his fiancee stayed with us, mind you.) On December 16, we board a flight to DC, and don’t come back until December 31, after a whirlwind tour of DC, Bethesda, and Waynesburg, PA. At last count, we’ll be attending four parties. That may sound like fun (I’m sure it will be) but with a nine-month-old and a toddler, it will also be exhausting.
Even so, I wasn’t about to not decorate. Eliza’s two now, which means she’s starting to really get it. She points at trees and says “Christmas!” Actually, she points at anything shiny and says “Christmas!” Which is fortunate, because that greatly stems the tide of Grinchiness that’s been edging in.
So yesterday David headed to the storage space and I headed into Union Square to do a little shopping. Last year we bought a lovely artificial wreath, and I decided then that I would allow myself one Christmas decoration indulgence per year, working up to, eventually, a real tree and a train set. Who knows when that will happen–the train set, especially, is on our When We Have a House List–but in the meantime, a little item here and there, a really nice Thing that will make us smile? In ten years we’ll have a wonderful collection of holiday joy to unwrap every year.
OK, that’s all BS. In truth, I went into Gump’s a few weeks ago, when they started setting up Christmas decorations, and this little gem stole my heart. In the ensuing weeks I’ve built myself a pyramid of rationalizations to justify spending $90 on a little Christmas trinket just because I’m so delighted by it. But aren’t you, too?
The volume knob actually controls the volume. Not only does the little train go around, but it plays a medley of Christmas tunes. Eliza, of course, is as delighted by it as I am, which adds another block into The Great Pyramid of Rationalization.
She woke up at 7 AM this morning–90 minutes early–and the first thing she said was, “Christmas!” as she ran into the living room to, I presume, make sure that everything was still where she’d left it. When she saw that our little silver tree still stood as proudly as it can, she climbed on the couch to turn on Santa’s train. My little Cindy Lou Who, who is no more than two.