Now is the Winter of Our Discombobulation

We finally got the tree up and decorated, but Thomas is mostly oblivious to it. He did seriously maim the cow ornament, leaving the poor bovine with only one functional leg, but otherwise he’s paid little attention to the Christmas tree, or anything Christmas-related really. Christmas just isn’t special yet because, to him, the whole world is still special. Who needs Christmas gifts when you find gifts of great wonder everywhere? The Tupperware cabinet, alone, is like Aladdin’s Cave of Wonders. Add to that the contents of the pots and pan cabinet and Thomas is a toddler, content. 

Meanwhile, his parents are deep in a winter of discombobulation. For one, it’s hardly felt like winter. We’re in a severe drought, with temperatures more characteristic of a summer solstice than winter solstice (and it’s supposed to be in the seventies on Christmas day, ugh). During this drought outside, any semblance of routine has withered up and evaporated inside our house. Thomas has run the gauntlet of day-care germs (RSV, croup, stomach bug, ear infection, crud, ear infection, stomach bug), which has strangely left him more energetic than ever, but has completely exhausted his parents. 

The Tupperware Drawer

And it shows. Our pitiful little pencil tree is the only decoration up. There are no gifts around it, because, well, they still need to be wrapped. I didn’t put the big wreaths up outside because I was too busy scrambling to mend fences for goats. Natalie didn’t put out her Christmas village, and I didn’t even put out the nativity scene. It’s kind of sad, to be honest. I didn’t think I would miss the decorations, but now, in hindsight, I realize that Christmas decorations do serve a purpose, namely reminding me that it’s Christmas. I’ve probably thought about Christmas less this year than any since I was a blissfully unaware toddler like Thomas.  

I haven’t been blissfully unaware, but unaware nonetheless–too distracted by the burdens of modernity to stop and find gifts of great wonder anywhere, even in the Christmas story. That said, I’ve still got a few days left and it just rained, so maybe I should learn from my toddler and at least go rejoice in a mud puddle.  

Thomas playing in a mud puddle after rain.

8 thoughts on “Now is the Winter of Our Discombobulation

  1. Cut yourself some slack! It’s been a hard year in general, and if your little guy has been hit by all those infections, it’s a wonder you and Natalie are even still standing, let alone worrying about decorations! And, for the record, in my opinion, we should all be more like Thomas! And I am seriously jealous of those boots.

    1. Yes, thanks for those kinds words–and his boots are adorable! We just had to order him some new ones. They grow so fast.

      Happy New Year! Hope Ohio isn’t sweltering like we are!

  2. Another couple of inches of water, and you wouldn’t have to bother about boots! I remember my overwhelmed mother sending my twin brothers at about that age, and me (a year older) out to play after a lot of rain; she had to come out and rescue us from the garden, which was all boot sucking mud; we all got stuck, as I remember it. I know I was; I know all three of us had to get pulled out; I know boots were lost in the process!

  3. Love it! Yes, it’s hard to think of it as Christmas when it’s 70 degrees and we’re running around in shorts! Merry Christmas to you and yours!

  4. You put a tree up. You did better than me. I put a wreath on the door and it was excruciating.

    That said I love everyone else’s decorations. I pretended my next door neighbor’s were mine.

    And those are mud puddles. Yeah, we need to live life like him. I will take on that challenge for 2022. I’ll try to avoid toddler tantrums, though.

    1. Good point, the grass is always greener on the other side of the mud puddle–judging by the tantrums, being a toddler isn’t so easy. Hope you have a great new year!

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