Having grown up the youngest of 6 children, our Christmas was usually on a tight budget. Don’t get me wrong, I have some great Christmas memories (those amazingly cool moon boots!), but most of the Christmas budget went towards gifts, leaving the tree under which they rested one of an ‘artificial’ nature.
When I had children of my own, I vowed we would cut a fresh Noble Fir every Christmas and dreamed of the magic of wandering about in the fresh outdoors as a family (envision the Grizwold Family Christmas) in search of our amazing tree.
Reality check. Most years it was FREEZING cold, often raining as we searched and searched (in the mud) among too short, lopsided, awkwardly shaped trees while my daughter galloped about and cried every time one of the branches touched her (she HATED the feel of the pine needles) only to pay close to $80 for whatever we settled on. One year, after getting the tree decorated, a nest of baby spiders hatched and I found them crawling about among the ornaments. Then there was the year of the mis-shaped trunk in which the tree took a nose dive out of its base not once, but twice breaking several cherished ornaments in the process.
The ‘cincher’ was the Christmas after my son was born. My son was about 5 months old and we had him bundled and hanging off my chest in the Baby Bjorn. The minute we got to the Christmas tree farm, my then 3-year-old daughter went bounding down the hill, full speed – stepped in a mud puddle, which sucked her boot off and sent her sprawling face first into the mud. Off to a great start. Fortunately I had put 2 pairs of socks on her, so I peeled away the muddy layer, wiped whatever mud I could from her pants and off we went in search of our Noble. Not 5 minutes later we see our daughter on crouched knees on the other side of the road near a drainage ditch stretching oh-so-far with her arm to grab a cattail growing out from the grungy green water. Just as my husband yelled “Emma!” she took a tumble. Fortunately the water wasn’t deep, but she landed on her hands and knees, water soaking her up both arms and legs as my husband hoisted her out by the back of her coat. We then drove home listening to her wail from the back seat “I WANT A CHRISTMAS TREE! I WANT A CHRISTMAS TREE!”
We purchased a 9 foot tall, pre-lit Costco tree that year. I love this tree!

Mom says:
Hey, you figured out why we had a fake tree!