Christmas Decor: Let it Be

I've decided that my kids' memories are more important this year than a photo-worthy holiday decor'd house. I'm a little embarrassed to admit that it isn't the easiest thing for me to let their decor be.

 

It's often off-center:

 

 

Or stolen from somewhere else to festivize their own rooms:

 

 

It could be recycled garbage, like this tinfoil ball that Carson's so proud of:

 

 

Or maybe it's a vertical long linked ornament chain:

 

 

Apparently branch tips are prime ornament real estate, and there are loads of droopy branch ends on our tree to prove it:

 

 

And overpopulated sections:

 

 

And highly popular single branches (I think this one branch has 10+ ornaments on it):

 

 

This doubled-up hang job is especially creative:

 

 

Normally I try to correct and change these things so our house "looks" better. Not this year, though. I'm trying to focus on the important stuff. Like this:

 

 

We're crossing our fingers she doesn't learn to crawl until after Christmas. Paul's not betting on it, though.

 

 

 

This self-directed impromptu photo of the kids melts my heart. Carson was holding and playing with Violet when Layla jumped in and put her arm around him (and on Vi's head? You betcha), and Addie ran up and wrapped her little arms around the lot of them, squeezing as best she could.

 

 

Children are a joy. And nothing beats holiday smiles.

a wall o' toys...and stuff

The other day, the little ladies donned their swimsuits a la mermaidhood and took turns jumping "into" a blue fleece blanket (pool) in the living room. Somehow that adorable playtime activity morphed into their creating the Great Wall of China out of various items from throughout our house. (Read: the worst kind of mess to clean up.) Seen below:

 Really, girls? Newspapers? Extra swimsuits? Thousands upon thousands of books? Is that the best building stuff you could come up with? Nuts. 

 The worst part was how happy and proud of themselves they were. I felt like crying but couldn't help but smile at their mess-terpiece. It kept them happily entertained for several hours, and Layla was a champ and even cleaned it up before dinner. But, honestly? I'd rather find playtime remnants like this: 

Aww. Stumbling across a tucked-in doll scene is precious. Girls are sweethearts.