The Perfect Tree

This weekend I attempted to have a little craft day for a few friends so we could make some homemade things to decorate the house with. I decided we needed to decorate our house first too so that it felt more festive while we sewed and stuck and sang (off key!).

In previous years, our family has always had a medium sized Bermuda cedar tree in a pot so that we could plant it in the garden after the holidays. They are great as they are about 4 feet tall and still have that slight prickle to their needles that still hold decorations. But now that Oslo is 5, I thought he may start noticing that our tree was always a bit smaller and sparser looking than other peoples' trees so this year I asked him if we should get a real Christmas tree. I fully expected him to be thrilled at the possibility and drag me out right then to get the biggest one he could find. But instead, he surprised me.

"We already have a Christmas tree Mummy."
"Do we?" I asked, not sure what on earth he could be speaking about.
"Yes!" he told me. "In the garden." I dreaded to think which tree he hoped do dig up and drag with its muddy roots into our home, but then he led me outside and showed me the Christmas tree he meant.

Just as some background, this year we planted baby cedar trees for Indigo and Oslo's birthdays and gave potted cedars for all the children to take home as their party goody bag. I will do an extended post on the tree plantings when things are a little less mad with deadlines but for today, I just wanted to share the cuteness of my kid!

So Oslo dragged me outside and showed me this left over tree sitting alone on the wall. It was very clear to me why nobody had chosen this one when they selected their trees at the end of the birthday parties. It was really rather sad looking. It had few branches, and they were mostly turning brown. It was a bit lopsided and rather stunted looking. But there Oslo was, pulling it down from the wall and bringing it inside.

"Here is a perfect tree!" he announced and my heart just melted. I love that he is still so innocent that he is not affected by what he sees elsewhere - he really is his father's son - so sure of who he is that he does not feel the need to imitate the crowd. He still says his favourite colour is pink, even though he knows that it is not a cool thing to say when you are a boy, but he knows what he likes and sticks with it rather than say something that rings wrong, even if it is what others are saying.

So we decorated this tree and he loved every moment. Bits kept falling off as the dead branches were knocked as he struggled to slip the loops on to hang the balls. We made candy canes out of pipe cleaners and I even found an angel that wouldn't weigh the whole thing over, but Oslo wanted a heavy star so now it has both. Lights are obviously not an option, nor is the idea of actually putting presents under the tree, but he loves it and is proud of it and that is what is most important.