Every morning when I get my baby girl from her bed and we go out to the living room, she says, "Oh! Christmas tree, Mama!"
And every morning then, I plug in the three strands of lights and light up that big tree we chose ourselves.
We got the tree last weekend from a tree farm called Santa's Woods. It was low-key and awesome, though bitterly cold.
We took a tractor-pulled hayrack ride out to the trees and then another smaller one pulled by two Clydesdales out to more trees. We chose as quickly as possible, mainly because it was so cold. I'd bundled Paige up in layers and joked that she was like the little boy in "A Christmas Story" who can't put his arms down.
It must not have been enough, though, because she still started crying from cold out in the field.
We sat by a campfire for a few minutes after choosing the tree and got mini candy canes from a friendly Santa.
They strapped the tree to the top of my car for us and away we went. Rye and I decorated it the next day, while Paige took her nap.
The best part is how much my kids love this Christmas tree. It's already got me worried about how I'll soothe their sadness in a few more weeks when it's time to throw the tree out.
Oh well. Until then, we're enjoying it to the fullest.