The Year We Almost Didn't Have a Christmas Tree

I must confess that I used to be one of those parents.  When I heard other parents talk of putting baby gates around their Christmas tree to keep it safe from the little ones, I would inwardly roll my eyes and think, "Gosh, why not just tell little Billy 'No.'  You just need to teach your children a little discipline.  Look at my Caleb...he's a perfect little angel and almost never touches the Christmas tree after he was put in time-out one time for touching an ornament." 
And then I had more than one child, and all of that changed.  I've learned that during the time it takes you to discipline the one child for touching a dangling, sparkly ornament, the other two very well may have already flipped the tree over and started jumping up and down on the broken ornament shards - barefooted.  Don't get me wrong, I'm all about discipline, but I also really like my Christmas ornaments and don't want every last one of them crushed to smithereens.  So this year, I wasn't sure the approach to take.  Lock the tree away in my office (behind closed doors) to protect it (like last year)?  That was manageable, but we missed out on the warmth a lit Christmas tree brings to the living room.  Don't put any ornaments on or only decorate with the ornaments that aren't breakable (or you don't care about)?  Why even go through the hassle if it doesn't have the beautiful, shiny ornaments that I expect to see each year?  Put a baby gate around the bottom of the tree?  Never going to happen...I just can't bring myself to it. 
While I decided the best approach, I went ahead and put out the mantle decorations...thinking that my kids weren't tall enough for that to be a problem.  Imagine:  glittery red and gold balls nestled among green boughs back lit by twinkling clear lights.  On one side of the mantel was a miniature Christmas tree, wrapped in lights, while on the other side, metallic Christmas trees of varying heights towered over the merriment below.  Rising from the midst of the garland was one of my favorite Christmas decorations:  a silver magical and majestic reindeer, raised on its glittering hind legs, as though it were one split second from taking flight.  It was a beautiful sight, if I do say so myself.
Imagine my horror when, some 45 minutes after having installed my small bit of Christmas cheer, I receive the following text messages from Tony as I was grocery shopping:

What?!  My glittery ornaments!  Shattered!  My twinkling lights!  Yanked to the ground!  My magical reindeer!  Decapitated! 
As it turns out, Wren is taller than I thought.  (And, yes, we're still potty training Judson.) 
The unpleasant text messages continued:

(In case you were wondering, my closet does not normally look like that.)  At this point, I was convinced that our children's sole purpose in life was to ruin every material item of value that we possess.  And so it was that I resolved that we would not put up a Christmas tree this year...or any year until I was convinced that my kids would be respectful of our personal property.  I would show them.  I felt my heart shrink a size or two.
I think I would have stuck to the plan if Caleb hadn't been so persistent.  He truly wanted to help decorate the tree, which was the first year that he has expressed such a desire.  How do you tell an eager four-year-old with the magic of Christmas gleaming in his eyes that you're skipping the Christmas tree this year? 
You don't.  So despite my better judgment, I felt my feet stomp their way to the basement to pull out the red and green boxes where all our treasured ornaments are housed.  Despite raised eyebrows from Tony, I felt my hands carry the boxes upstairs and gingerly open them up to reveal many happy memories from past Christmases.  And, yes, despite a little desperate voice inside my head screaming, "Noooo!," I let my little wild children "help" me decorate the Christmas tree. 

 And my heart grew a few sizes bigger. 
We ultimately decided to just put the breakable ornaments closer to the top, but either my children are growing taller by the minute or they've become amazing problem solvers because they've managed to reach and break about five ornaments so far.  I guess that's a small price to pay for seeing the sheer joy and wonder in their eyes when they behold our Christmas tree and for the memories that we're creating. 
Besides, I made sure to put my absolute favorite ornaments at the very top of the tree, where they (hopefully) will remain safe. 

Rest in peace, glittery reindeer.