I wasn't going to take the tree down today. I was planning on taking the ornaments off sometime this week and having Jason take the tree down this weekend, as Monday is the beginning of curbside Christmas tree pick-up.
I knew that a lot of needles were going to fall off, so as I was staring at the needle piles under the tree I thought perhaps I should get a head start so needle clean-up won't be as laborious this weekend. I took the angel off the top and heard a few needles daintily fall to the floor. I took the paper chain off, and a few more needles let go. But when I started taking down the ornaments, whole branches were ending up bare! By the time everything was off there were enormous piles of needles on the tree skirt--so much that the skirt was no longer visible.
I took it in for a minute, looked at the distance between the tree and the door, and decided to go for it. I gingerly pushed the tree skirt aside. I propped the doors open, and I took the whole thing, base and all, out the front door.
Cullen was watching from the porta-crib (or as we call it "baby jail") and the girls were trying to help pick up needles until I snapped at them to "just stay out of the way" (there goes my Mother Of The Year award). I tipped the tree over and unscrewed the base as fast as I could, then marched it over to the curb/snowbank.
Pleased, I came back inside.
Into my personal hell.
sharp little needles everywhere
+ vacuum cleaner not giving top performance
+ carpet that hides everything
=hours of obsessive, frantic needle searching
=no dinner at dinner time
AND after all that work I am still stepping on (EXPLETIVE!) needles!!! And my neck is killing me.
And I feel like I have suffered a severe trauma.
And I feel terrible for that, because I know there are people out there suffering for real and I'm out here in suburbia getting crazy over some needles.
But it doesn't change the fact that it nearly broke my brain.