Please Santa, Bring Super Glue

I'm borrowing most of this from an article I wrote for something else last week, but since it's mine, I guess I am allowed. After all, it's relevant to the season, and as I am just about to super glue this pitiful victim back together, I need to vent, or re-vent about the pitfalls of decorating with kids.

As I’m writing this, my husband and I have just come in from putting up our lights. This job always takes twice as long as we think it’s going to and leaves us frustrated as strands randomly flicker off or don’t fit where they’re supposed to go. And somehow there are never enough stakes to fasten lights around the perimeter of the grass, and we have to go buy more. Every year!

Tonight while we were intensely driving wire stakes into the rock hard ground and carefully removing busted bulbs from their sockets (swearing under my breath when I trip and squash yet another bulb), a silver Christmas ball bounced off the porch and rolled down the sidewalk. It had fallen off the wreath on the door after the children had opened it and shut it for about the 90^th time to see if we were done yet. At least it bounced instead of shattered.

We have a designated spot that we call the “ornament hospital” where I keep super glue handy for repairs. I’m pretty sure we have more ornaments on our tree that have been glued back together than ones that have yet to need glue. It's gotten so bad that next year I think we may wrap the whole tree in bubble wrap. Wait, then all I'll hear for weeks in popping. Never mind.

We even have a wise man that had to have his hand reattached after an unfortunate incident where the nativity set was tossed out of the attic. Don’t ask, we don’t like to talk about it.

It’s not so bad to have to a house full of repaired Christmas decorations though as long as I refrain from gluing my fingers together in the process. Sadly though, I seem to do it every time. Besides, House Beautiful is unlikely to come photograph my holiday décor. If they did though, the saggy gingerbread house would be a must see. It was the messiest thing to make, and I will still be sweeping up sprinkles in a month, but my kids are so proud of their little house. It doesn’t matter to them one bit that the roof slid halfway off, the door is crooked, and they got more icing on the table than on the house. They loved making it, and the memories they will have of fun Christmas traditions will mean so much more to them as they grow up than having a perfectly decorated home. Who cares if a Lego man has to stand in for our missing Baby Jesus? This reminds me, I still need retrieve a shepherd from above the cabinets where he was launched last year.