Our Christmas tree's dirty little secret

Wubbles and Jim

To think that I could write a blog is ridiculous; but then again so am I and so is my family.  I didn't marry my high school sweetheart or even my college boyfriend, I married Jim.  He's an honest guy who works hard to "keep me happy."  We met on Eharmony and got married in 2008.  Our son, Cullen, who we affectionately call Wubbles was born in 2009.
I know that it's boring to talk about how different we are, so I will just say that we actually aren't all that different... now.  But Jim is from a "measure twice, cut once" family and I, well, I'm not.  I come from a, "Only mulch the front of your flower beds because your neighbors can't see behind the bushes," family.  From a, "Sure, I'll fix your bike chain.  Go grab me that ax!" family.  And while it may have caused some problems in the beginning, Jim now sees things my way. 

And that's why our Christmas tree has a dirty little secret.  It started out all well and good, the family piled in the SUV to get our Christmas tree, the bitter cold and chattering teeth, the quick decision on a reasonably priced Christmas tradition.  Things started to unravel when we got her home.  The base didn't fit.  So my very patient husband inquired if we had a saw and when I laughed at him, he pulled out a knife and started whittling away the old fashioned way.  It actually didn't take that long and the branch that needed to be hacked off was hastily tossed to the side, but for some reason, cutting that branch meant she was now off balance.  So he huffed and he puffed and he got her centered in the base and she stood.  Leaning as all hell, but she was up and I was happy.  And then she started to lean some more, but we ignored her.  And she leaned more and more and we hoped she "wouldn't f-ing fall down."  (Literally.  We got an ornament this year that included a card that you can write a hope on and this was one of ours.)  But alas, she couldn't hold up anymore and slowly and surprisingly quietly she gave way.  Jim was standing in her path, so he was able to catch her before she really went down hard.  And I'm very sure we should have gotten out some sort of tools or googled something like, "how to fix a leaning Christmas tree," but we didn't.  We took the easiest, laziest way out possible.  While I steadied the old girl, Jim went and got some dumbbells, 26 lbs worth to be exact.  He gingerly placed them under the old girl's skirt and around her fupa and she held.  And she's still holding... for now.

I will keep you posted on her progress and the goings on of my family and I.

Until tomorrow, goodbye.