A Christmas Decorating Philosophy

Last year I didn't decorate for Christmas (much), thanks to surgery being scheduled December 20th.

Yeah, it sucked.

Mostly for the kids, I think. It didn't look too much like Christmas around this house.

(This would be thanks to my micromanagement, trust issues, inability to let other people help me--I knew Mr Lannis wouldn't put away the delicate Christmas decorations to my satisfaction, so I decided it was best for our relationship, the breakables, everyone involved if I just kept things to a minimum.)

Flash forward to a year later, and our house has exploded with ribbon, lights, and merry doodads freaking everywhere.

It's almost nauseating.

Regard the nasty vinyl tablecloth. It's ugly, but its primary purpose is sacrificial--the kids can destroy it and I don't care.

Why?

Well, the more socially acceptable reason is that I'm trying to rewrite my children's memories--one day they might remember the year we didn't have many decorations out, but common things being common, they're going to remember how the house transforms (almost) every year with light up ceramics, gauzy ribbons twining bannisters, something Christmas-y every direction they look, and a cheer so infectious its insistence is borderline militant.

Ahem.

The underlying reason for the storage room vomiting forth its red and gold abundance?

Well, my Christmas decorating philosophy is pretty straightforward: overkill.

Yes. Make it so over the top that you're grateful for the chore of putting it all away come boxing week.

It's that simple.