I am really enjoying my homemade advent calendar. In fact, I’m thinking of doing an entire year advent calendar. I love how it forces me to do things with my kids.
You see, I am one of those people who can’t remember (or do) anything not “on the list.” By peppering the advent calendar with candy, the boys remember each night to open the little box.
Last Saturday, they didn’t find chocolate. Instead, they found an invitation to find and decorate a Christmas tree.
I know there are tree markets around; I just don’t know exactly where. But, IKEA always has trees. And, they have a website where I can check prices. I seriously love that Big Blue Box.
For the first time since we’ve been married, Doc Sci and I have a real tree in our house. The first years, we didn’t have space (or money) for a real tree. We set up a small fake one and called it a day.
Once T-Rex came on the scene and started moving around, I decided the best thing for everyone’s sanity was to make a paper one and tape it to the wall. Classy, I know.
This year, both boys are old enough to obey the rules (at least the possibility exists, right?). We don’t, however, have a lot of room for a large tree. So, we picked out an itty bitty one in a pot at the IKEA tree lot. It’s crooked, it’s dirty, but it’s a REAL tree.
The boys stuffed it in a blue IKEA bag and took it for a ride on a bus and a tram before giving it a new home in our living room. That’s how everyone gets their Christmas trees home, right?
We made a few ornaments and purchased a few from the euro store. Unfortunately, lights are rather expensive here, so we’ll just have to do without them.
I suppose we could always do the German thing and put real candles on the tree. I’d like to think my boys listen as well as possible for 2 and 4 years-old, but I’d rather not put that to the test when it would involve dialing the German 112 emergency number for the first time. Ever.
We’ll just light the candles at a safe distance from the tree and enjoy the glow of the sparkly ornaments. No one gets third-degree burns that way.
I know our Weinachtsbaum isn’t going to scream Martha Stewart! to anyone, but I’m thankful for a real tree this year.