Treasured Ornaments

So I last wrote in my blog before Christmas season, almost dreading it because I knew I'd be with the Leatherkids constantly at the end of it for two solid weeks.  I don't know if my last post actually said that, but that was certainly its intended prevalent theme.  It goes without saying that I truly love them; they just have a way of driving me nuts.

It turns out, it was tolerable... and, looking back, fast... and almost describable as "fun" at times.  We had the right amount of goings on to break it up with Christmas Eve at my brother-in-law's house, Christmas with my family at our house and then a three-day trip to the Dells for some Great Wolf Lodge Waterpark fun with my sister-in-law and her kids starting the day after Christmas.  After a couple of recovery days and a visit from my dad to help him with some computer issues, we found ourselves rolling into New Year's Eve, which we spent at our house with the Reinkes and my dad.  And then we visited our friends the Henses on the 1st (all day -- sorry, Jen and Kevin) and spent some time furthering our Great Wolf Lodge time by visiting my sister-in-law on the 2nd.  I texted my mom that the kids were driving me nuts on the 3rd and could she take them to a movie, survived all day alone with them on the 4th, and here I am blogging while the kids watch "Sing" with my mom on the 5th.  All in all, I'd say the 4th was the worst day where I survived by, in a great Mommy moment, letting them use the ipads, practically unsupervised, for what seemed like 12 hours (in the end, it was somewhere between 4 and 5, not that that's any better, really).  I felt better about myself when, at the end of the day, I told them they'd get "no ipad time tomorrow, so don't even ask"... which, of course, didn't stop Cal from asking for ipad time today, to which I responded, "No, and if you keep bugging me about it today, you won't get it tomorrow."  He gave me some mad, I-don't-like-you face but didn't ask me about it anymore.  Mommy 1, Leatherkids 23 (not that we're officially keeping score).

So here I sit at "The Vault" in Lemont, drinking a Pollyanna IPA, and blogging while the kids are with Grandma.  I love this.  It's EXACTLY where I want to be.

And what I really want to write about is my ornaments.  Yes, that's right -- my Christmas ornaments.

I spent virtually the entire day on the 3rd taking down and packing away our Christmas decorations. I really don't understand how it's possible that it took this long because we basically have decorations in the equivalent of four rooms (living room, family room, kitchen and two bathrooms... that's the equivalent part).  A quick assessment from an independent party would likely be two hours; anyone who knows me would know better because of how perfect and precise I am when packing things.  But six hours?  This would be on no one's radar.

To be fair, it's probably ornament removal and packing that at least doubles de-Christmasing our house.  There are just so many of them!  I all-encompassingly blame (and by "blame," I do mean blame, but with an appreciative slant) my mom for it.  Afterall, she gave us a 50-pack of a mixture of red, green and white balls, flakes and spires last year because our tree apparently had some gaps in it.  She's also responsible for my initial supply of ornaments, a hodgepodge of "my" ornaments that she made sure to collect, protect and save during my childhood.  And that she did that for me and that I value it more than she may know, I am doing it for my kids -- every year, they each get a new store-bought ornament to hang on the tree; and when it comes time for them to buy their own trees, I'll give these to them.

So decorative balls, treasured oldies and hopeful future treasures -- my mom is behind all of them.  And every year, when it's time to pull out the decorations and to put them away, I thoroughly enjoy my walk down memory lane, not the one with the 50 balls, flakes and spires on it, nor the one with future treasures; but the one with the treasured oldies.  I remember them all and thought I'd share some.

This one on the left, I made in 1976, the same year that my husband was born.  Yes, I was crafting when he was barely cooing.  Now, I don't remember making it, but we know that I did because my mom made sure to label it.  That a handmade ornament survived this many years I attribute to my mom's and my careful handling.  And why did we care so much?  Because this is part of my story.

The one on the right, the shepherd and his lamb, is my favorite of all of my ornaments.  I can't explain why -- I really can't.  It's not colorful.  I am not religious so I don't fully appreciate the religious story behind it, nor do I know who might've given this to me, or, if it was my mom, why she chose to give this one to me.  I adore it.  Perhaps it's the shepherd protecting and loving his lamb, like I might do with my pets.  I protect it.  I always hang it in a prominent place.  I don't know for sure, but I believe this one is dated 1979; and look at the condition it's in.  It's perfect.  I love it.

That Geometry book on the left I made when I was in high school.  Mr. Gonz's class.  It's a piece of construction paper wrapped around a piece of styrofoam, held in place by push pins, and decorated, of course, by me.  I loved that class.  Everyone loved Mr. Gonz.  I wonder how many of my classmates still have their ornaments?

That desk on the right Grandma Reiter gave to me.  1987 is the year I graduated from high school.  This ornament accompanied the gift that she gave me in the Reiter Christmas exchange.  It's my memory of her... one of many memories of her.

Last but not least, is my Fenway ornament.  Fenway was the German Shepherd who was unexpectedly given to me as a gift (never give a dog to someone as a gift without talking about it beforehand) and whom I grew quickly to love.  He was so smart and so good.  I remember rollerblading with him running alongside of me.  I lost Fenway early when, tragically, he was hit by a car.  He was in my life for only a couple of years, and I have an ornament that I put on the Christmas tree to remember him.

Those are just a handful.  The oldest ornament I have is dated 1972.  It's a glass ball with some old Norman Rockwell-types of characters on it. We had problems getting this year's Christmas tree to stay standing (it fell three times), and this ball survived the tumbles where a couple of other newer, less meaningful ones did not.

There are volleyballs and a basketball and a bat, ball, and glove combo.  There are ornaments from my local trips to Lincoln Park Zoo and to the Morton Arboretum.  There's a seal from San Francisco and a skier from Vail.  And there's my new Chicago skyline ornament.

These ornaments tell my story.

There are others, and I can tell the story of most.  I can even tell the story of our newer ones that are the beginning of the collections for each of the Leatherkids.  They each get a new store-bought ornament every year; and I make it a point to save (and hang) every one of their hand-made ornaments.  The laminated paper ones.  The hardened dough ones.  The ones missing an eye... or a limb... or both.  These ornaments will tell their story.  It'll be their decision what to do with them and how much to value them; and it'll be my job to instill in my kids that appreciation for the meaning behind the ornaments, something that I think is probably actually beyond the ornaments themselves.  But as far as the ornaments go, I'm going to value them and take care of them, much like my mom did for me.