We aren’t getting a tree this year. The one in the pictures is at my parent’s house and is fake. It’s a good fake though, and often visitors can’t tell.

We aren’t getting a tree for several reasons:

1) We’ll spend the whole holiday at my parent’s house anyway
2) I could really use the money in other ways
3) I always forget to water them
4) I hate the mess they leave
5) I hate disposing of them when it’s all over
6) Cole is enough of a hazard just walking- I don’t need to see him around MORE ornaments or trying to climb the tree, which would be inevitable
7) I don’t feel like getting into the dead tree discussion with my nephew.

I think that’s enough.

We’ve done live trees before, but, thanks to my stellar ability to kill all plant life within my house and a 5 foot perimeter surrounding it, they end up the same way as the pre-dead ones. What’s the point? I’ll buy a wreath and string up some lights. Hell- maybe I won’t even do that and instead will just sit on my couch sipping burbon-laced eggnog and watching episodes of Buffy for the next three weeks (and I think I’m fat NOW!).

Sounds good. Will you join me?

(And I even have more, but they won’t load.)

We took our Christmas Photos over Thanksgiving weekend. Cole was such good sport about it all.

“Hey. My cheeks really ARE so squeezable!”

“HAHA!! Now I have almost all of the toys and Spencer only has ONE! ONE!!”

We got this one which is just about as good a picture as we could hope for of all of us at the same time. I am far from photogenic, but I don’t totally hate this.
(By the way, I am not taller than John, we were just sitting on uneven pillows.)

And I really quite like this one. We’ll ignore my butt and focus on the beautiful baby face peeking out of the hat.

Cole played hard and got really tuckered out at the end of each day. He and the kitty dreamt about butterflies together.