We got a tree and no one died.

Last night my family managed to pick out a Christmas tree without murdering one another. There weren't even any tears. This, my friends, is a monumental occurrence!
As we piled out of the car into the frozen tundra that was the grocery store parking lot, the wind whipped through each of us like a mysterious winter wizard. I personally think it was Frosty, making his way from the North Pole for the holiday season. Soon after, the bickering began.
Lucky for all of us, I was in a very festive mood. Even though my childhood lacked any significant tradition, I long for it. Maybe not having it is why I desire it so bad. So, getting the tree is, for me, the beginning of yet another year of creating family tradition. Of course, it usually ends up with me in tears that I'm not good enough to pull it all together and make everyone happy. Nonetheless, each year I start with grand plans. So, this night, I was leading the kids in carols, joking about Charlie Brown trees, all the while freezing my ass off.
All of this good cheer was met with varied responses. Oldest child, L, was pained by the whole endeavor and begged to go home. Because I refused this request, he attempted to make my life miserable by hating every tree I liked. The two girls were loving it all and playing a game of tag through the maze of the tree selections. It was sort of like a mini forest, and I was enthralled.
My husband miraculously overcame his hatred for this type of activity and played good cop with teen-angst boy, and was only slightly annoying as he continually suggested trees that were in the "way too much money for a Christmas tree" category. How many times do you have to point out the 8 foot Balsams before husbands clue in?
After many laps through the tree maze, looking at every one the kids suggested, we landed on a Scotch pine around 71/2 feet tall. It's not perfect, but perfect enough. It got loaded on the car and we were on our way home.
I can't even comment on the process of getting the tree in the stand except to say that there are no current plans for divorce, which is way more positive than most years. Getting the ornaments and decorations out always make me nostalgic and warm. The kids decorated the tree (no teen-angst boy) and spoke of memories of each and every ornament. Later, when all were in bed, finally, I sat in the darkened room, lit only by Christmas lights. The bunny was hopping around on the tree skirt I had just fashioned from a round tablecloth that the mice got to in the off season, and I felt contentment. Since you don't know me, you may not be appropriately astonished by this. It is a fete, I tell you. I felt, even for just a few short moments, that maybe I was doing ok. Maybe I wasn't a horrible parent and maybe my kids were really going to turn out ok.
After all, no one died picking out the Christmas tree!