The Weekend We Stole our Christmas Tree

For the past four years, we've had an artificial tree.  I hate actually writing that for the world to see because I always swore I would be a real-tree mom.  We had a real tree every year growing up, and I love them: their imperfections, their bare spots that have to be hidden in back by the wall, their yummy smells.  Love. Them.

Four years ago we had a huge ice storm right before Christmas.  We'd waited until the last minute to tree hunt so that we could get our tree with family from out-of-town.  It was Li'l Miss's first Christmas, and I had grand aspirations of making memories picking the perfect tree with our extended family.

Here's my sweet girl all loaded up and ready to Christmas tree shop.  (How is it possible that she was ever so tiny?)

 
Unfortunately, after the storm there was ice on everything.  Not kidding.  Everything.

We went to our local hardware store to pick out a tree, and they were all covered in ice.  A very sweet and overachieving employee offered to find a blow dryer to melt a tree for us.  We politely told him that we needed our tree - fully melted - before Christmas 2015 and left to check out our other options. 

There weren't many.  It was a few days before Christmas, and every tree that had been outside during the storm looked like an ice sculpture.

Our church had offered us an artificial tree that wasn't being used.  We gave in and took it.  (We were desperate, people.  We couldn't go tree-less for daughter's first Christmas.)  Every Christmas since then we've decided to stick with the artificial tree.  It was cheap.  It was easy.  It was right down the stairs in our basement.

But this year we were determined to ditch the fake tree and cut our own.  So, Sunday afternoon, we braved a trip to the tree farm with our three very jet-lagged children.  (Everyone goes Christmas tree hunting three days after bringing two children home from Ch*na, right?)  We bundled everyone up, bribed the boys into their car seats with oodles of Cheerios, and made the twenty-minute trek.

The farm was adorable.  It's run by a sweet old couple (Think: Mr. and Mrs. Claus) who make hot chocolate while your family tree hunts.  Totally perfect.

We found our tree in record time.  (Notice Li'l Man still has his Cheerios; that boy likes his food.)

The tree farm employees shook off all the needles and wrapped the tree for us.  Li'l Miss snagged some hot chocolate, and Jeremy loaded the tree on top of our fam van.  A few Cheerios later, we were loaded back up and headed home.

It wasn't until we'd gotten all the kids into the house and out of their various layers, unwrapped the tree, and started setting it into the stand that we noticed a little tag on one of the branches.  It said this.

Ummmmm...our last name is not Langmaid.  Oops.

I have to confess that we did not reload the tree and drive back to the farm.  Cheerios were quickly losing their hypnotic power and the jet lag was definitely taking over at this point.  So, Langmaid Family, whoever you are, we are the Grinches who stole your Christmas...tree, that is.  Please know that it is getting lots of love from our three kiddos.  We wish you loads of luck in finding an even better tree.  (This one kind of has a bare spot at the top anyway.)

Tonight we pulled out all the indestructible ornaments and decorated our pilfered tree.  It was crazy but really fun.  When we plugged the lights in, Li'l Dude's face lit up and he said, "Yay!"

Li'l Miss helped corral her brothers and hang ornaments.

Li'l Dude ran around begging to be flipped upside-down and getting into everything.  (He is so not the kid we met two weeks ago.)

And Li'l Man, well, that jet lag thing is hitting him hard.

As completely insane chaotic as our life might be right now, we are so thrilled to be sharing the Christmas season with all three of our children at home.

(Yes, it was pretty much impossible to catch everyone looking at the camera at the same time.  But this one is close.  Not exactly Christmas-card worthy, but still close.)

It's amazing to think that our boys are not only experiencing their first family Christmas traditions this year (first tree, first presents, first cookie decorating), but they are also probably hearing the true story of Christmas for the very first time.  How awesome that we get to introduce them to their Savior who came to earth as a tiny baby 2,000 years ago.

We are so blessed.