The Return of Harrystoptouchingthelights

WHEN will I ever learn?

The fastest way to make a liar out of yourself? Announce something to the Internet.


Sidenote: I baked oatmeal chocolate chip cookies the other day. I'm sure the Internet will be shocked to learn that the babies like cookies. A lot.

Anyway, remember how I was saying I thought Toddler Mission: Destroy The Christmas Tree might be over and that Harry didn't seem all that interested in the tree this year? (You might remember that last year, Harry and the tree had quite the "thing" going on).

Scratch that.

When I came home from work yesterday our nanny reported that Harry had "a terrible day with the tree." Which, I mean, first of all, you have to laugh at that sentence.


Why yes, that's Harry. With a purloined Thomas ornament. Of course

But back to Harry. Yesterday he reportedly pulled half the lights off the tree (which weren't in great shape to begin with, believe me). He also took a handful of ornaments from the tree and ran away, giggling. A variation of these events went on all day, apparently.

Of course I gave Harry a stern talking to about the situation. He responded by smiling and laughing at me.


Ah, Playdoh. Soooo much more constructive than Christmas Tree Pillaging.

Of course I'm laughing too. I mean think about it. A giant tree is in OUR HOUSE. It's covered with tiny, shiny lights and new, interesting, pretty and fun toy-like objects (see above: Thomas ornaments). Of COURSE he wants to touch it all the live long day. How do you explain the sudden appearance of a giant, toy covered tree in the house of a busy, inquisitive two and a half year old?

Luckily for Harry, we're not gunning for Best, Most Perfect Christmas Tree Ever. Not even close.

This morning, after I plugged in the lights (it's the first thing I do this time of year, right after I make a pot of coffee-there's nothing like a dark house and the cold blue-light of early morning and the instant cheer of twinkling white lights) I stopped and looked at the tree. Ellie was by my side and she and I studied the giant gaping hole where Harry had pulled lights yesterday. Fixing them would involve taking all the ornaments down from a large section and then rehanging the lights and then putting back all the ornaments. Hypothetically this could happen. You know, in my quiet moments, of which there are so many.

"What do you think of the tree? I asked Ellie. "Harry did quite a number on it didn't he? Do you think it's looks bad?"

She paused a moment and looked at the tree sideways. "Well. Maybe a little bad."



We love you, Harry. We really, truly do. And we're glad you love your tree so much.

Merry and Bright

The tree is up.

Please ignore the Giant Gaping Hole in the middle of the tree. We had a slight light malfunction. Don't ask. I'm just pretty proud that it's still standing and still holding most of the ornaments that were placed on it Saturday afternoon. Might we be exiting the stage of destruction? I have only once uttered the words "Harrystoptouchingthelights," (though to be fair, I have had to demand that he not stand on the end table and grab ornaments). Yeah, maybe we're not quite finished with the stage of destruction after all.

Shortly after I snapped the above photo, Ellie asked if we could snuggle on the couch and drink hot chocolate and then could I tell her about "Christmases long ago?"

You really can't make this stuff up (This, by the way, I've decided should be our family motto and I want it as my epitaph).

I think it's fair to see we are all feeling the spirit. When we told the kids a few days before the weekend that we'd be getting the Christmas tree, Ellie began her usual countdown of "Today is four days until we get the tree!" and then "Today is three days…" Saturday morning around 6:30 a.m. I found the words "Get it" ominously scrawled on the dry erase board in the kitchen, next to a drawing of a, you guessed it, a Christmas tree.

Saturday morning we took the kids to a gingerbread house making party at Ellie's old preschool.

Candy apparently makes Lucy itchy.


And hungry. Look at her. So sly! She couldn't quite believe her good luck. Unlimited Fruity Pebbles? For real?

Toddlers making gingerbread houses. Oy. Talk about herding cats. I was impressed with Lucy actually. She has quite the attention span for crafts. Or maybe she just likes sweets. Let it be known Saturday was the day she discovered chocolate covered marshmallow snowmen. She's a fan.


And if making gingerbread houses wasn't enough, Saturday afternoon while the babies napped, the big kids and I ventured out in the cold to the Frelinghuysen Arboretum to see the Gingerbread Wonderland.


Everyone was feeling especially lovey-dovey that day. I promise I didn't even have to pay Leo to snap this shot-he voluntarily threw his little arm around Ellie.


"Take my picture Mommy!"


And for the piece de resistance, Grandma Jerry's Christmas dresses arrived on Saturday afternoon. Well. Two little girls could not have been happier. They put the dresses on immediately and twirled all over the house. "I want someone who isn't in my family to see me," Ellie squealed. Lucy demanded to wear hers to Costco the next morning.

Who was I to say no?

Wherein Harry Thinks We Changed His Name to Harrystoptouchingthelights

He even looks guilty, doesn't he? By the way, the only reason he's not touching the Christmas lights here is because he's holding the television remote control. What can I say? The boy likes electronics. Or, electricity.

Also, note the gaping hole of no lights on that poor tree. Hey, you can only adjust a string of lights so many times before things start to look...sloppy.

But more importantly, the tree is STILL standing. At least, it was when I left for work this morning.

Furiously knocking wood.