Christmas Tree Work

Madeleine and I had a discussion about our old friend Santa Claus today while we were driving home from the store.

MADELEINE: (pointing excitedly at a house she could see through the car window) Mama!  Look!  That chimney is SMOKING!
ME: Yeah, they must have a fire going in their fireplace.
MADELEINE: But WE don't have a fireplace.
ME: We don't, you're right.
MADELEINE: We have a CHIMNEY, but no fireplace.
ME: Yup.  The chimneys don't lead anywhere anymore.
MADELEINE: (sadly) And so poor SANTA can't come to our house for CHRISTMAS!  He can't leave us ANY presents.
ME: Well, did we have presents under our tree this past Christmas?
MADELEINE: Uh, yes.
ME: So, what do you think?  Do you think Santa found a way to get into our house and deliver presents?
MADELEINE: Well, Mama, he can ONLY get in if we leave the DOOR unlocked.  But Mommy.  You DID lock the door, so Santa couldn't get IN!
ME: Well, then how on earth did we have so many presents under our tree on Christmas morning?
MADELEINE: (thoughtful) Well, Mom, I'm pretty sure that Santa has a KEY.


Man, my kids and their impeccable logic concerning Santa Claus.  They really have thought this whole situation out.  Julia with her volunteer ambassadors for every country, and Madeleine figuring out that Santa must have a key in order to get inside.  They both have most definitely jumped to the most rational conclusion about how the whole Santa thing works, no?


Speaking of our Christmas tree, it's scheduled to be picked up for the dump tomorrow morning, so Ethan and I need to get it out by our curb this evening.  I decided to take down the ornaments and lights today to make tonight's transfer quick and easy.  And lucky me, I had my little helper Madeleine right by my side, un-decorating the tree with me.

The point during which she actually was pretty helpful was in unwinding the lights.  She stood at one side of the tree so that could pass her my bundle of lights once I got around to the back.  When we got up to the top-most lights, however, she could no longer be of service.  These were the lights Ethan had hung, and his wily light-stringing ways REALLY caused me some difficulties, as I stood on tiptoe trying to unwind the strand from deep inside the tree branch maze.  At one point, I thought perhaps if I could get Madeleine to hold the lights, I could go around the tree and push the other side of the strand over the top.

ME: Madeleine?  Can you reach these?
MADELEINE: (trying) Uh...NO.
ME: Okay.  Never mind.
MADELEINE: But Mama?  Why are those so HIGH that they go up to the TOP of the tree?
ME: Well, these are the ones Daddy strung.  He could reach up here.
MADELEINE: (face melting) But Maaamaaaa!  Why did Daddy hang them so high so that I could never REACH them?

Yes Madeleine.  It's all about you.  The only reason Daddy strung the lights up to top of the tree was to prevent YOU from reaching them.  Never mind the fact that it would look totally idiotic to have the tree lit only 3/4 of the way up.

Anyway, while Madeleine came in handy during all but the top of the lights removal, there were other ways in which she made the task just a teensy bit more arduous.

Now, let me point out that our tree has been pretty dead since Christmas.  The water in the tree stand remains undrunk.  The pine needles are brittle and are shedding everywhere.  So the task of removing ornaments and lights rained down a torrent of needles all over the place.

And of course, despite my strict instruction NOT to do any of the following, Madeleine, faced with a very cool cause-and-effect experience, simply could not control herself from:

-deliberately shaking the branches to force a barrage of needles to pour down around her
-kneeling on the floor and making mounds of pine needles to play with ("but they're my PILES!")
-drawing lines in the needles with her feet to make "paths."  One for Julia, one for her, etc.

Therefore, it is unsurprising that after we had finished removing the decorations from the tree, we had an absolute rug of needles on our floor:

When I got out my vacuum, Madeleine was FULL of joy.  Before I knew it, she had decided to join me:

Let me tell you.  There is nothing more helpful in vacuuming up PILES of scattered pine needles than having a 4-year-old pushing a plastic "vacuum" that DOESN'T ACTUALLY WORK around in said piles, further scattering the pine needles.  Regardless, she truly enjoyed "helping" me, and was especially fascinated watching the process of me changing the vacuum bag.  Twice.  Yes, that's right: we had SO MANY pine needles on our floor that I had to change the bag TWO TIMES because it overloaded.  As Madeleine watched this whole ordeal, she exclaimed delightedly, "Wow, Mommy, I sure am learning a LOT about VACUUMS!"

Anyway, at long last, the floor is now clear of at least the most egregious mounds of pine needles.  Just in time for us to rain a whole flood of them down as we remove the tree from the room this evening.  Boy, I hope I have my little vacuuming helper there to assist me when it's time to do clean-up #2!