Maj gets overwhelmed when she is presented with too many choices or when she is forced to make a decision quickly.
Getting a Christmas Tree is always a tricky task.
This year? Mark and I have every intention of letting Maj wander the Christmas Tree farm with her sister until they find the perfect tree for us to cut down. What do we care, right? We’ve got nothing but time.
We want Maj to find the perfect tree.
OK, but then guess what?
We are about halfway through the hour-long drive to the Christmas Tree farm Mark has selected when it starts to rain.
A note here that we are all annoyed to be driving so far to a Christmas Tree farm, but Mark is occasionally stubborn and he is insistent we go to this to particular boonie-located place.
So it starts raining. But that’s not a big deal. It rains a lot here in Oregon, and we are not idiots. We all have our boots and our raincoats. We brought blankets and plastic on which to place the tree. No big deal.
And then it starts pouring. Huge crashing fat drops of monsoon water that obliterate our view of the world. It’s like we’re in a fucking carwash.
OK, so it rains like this in Oregon sometimes.
We will just deal.
And then? The sky turns grayish-green. That’s never a good sign.
And then there is hail.
So much fucking hail. Within just a few minutes the world is white.
It’s still raining as well.
In case you were wondering.
No one says anything, because there is no way to be heard over the hail.
So we drive a few minutes through the monsoon rain and the pelting hail.
Kallan finally leans forward into the front of the car and screams, “Really, Daddy? Really?”
Snort!
And then? As if by magic, we pass out of the rain and the hail and into sunshine!
Suddenly, it’s a perfect day for getting a Christmas Tree! Yay!
We arrive at the Christmas Tree farm.
In the time it takes us to get directions and a saw?
It becomes clear that the storm through which we drove?
Is headed our way.
I can see the clouds and the greenish-cast sky . . . we have maybe 20 minutes before all hell breaks loose.
OK, we can do this. We just need to pick a tree quickly.
Kallan is easy. Several years ago, Kallan named our Christmas Tree Elinor. Elinor comes back to visit with us each Christmas . . . in a different tree form every year.
So all I have to say is, “Kallan! This tree looks like Elinor!”
And Kallan is racing over to hug Elinor and squeal about much she has missed Elinor this past year.
Maj is more difficult.
Maj thinks naming the tree Elinor is the dumbest thing she has ever heard of.
And she wants this year’s tree to be perfect.
None of these trees is perfect.
Maj runs in crazy hopping circles of frustration as I try to calmly explain that we need to come to a decision quickly.
Why does Kallan always get her way I hate all of these trees there must be another field of trees we can look at this cannot be all of the trees you just want us to have a small ugly tree and why are you trying to ruin Christmas and I don’t like any of these trees I DON’T KNOW what I want Mother I just know it is not any of these trees unless maybe that one what do you MEAN that tree is 15 feet tall Mother you are insane and you do not know how to measure anything you are insane tell Kallan to stop hugging that tree I will not have that tree come into my house do you HEAR ME Mother I will not have that tree in my house no I don’t see a better one but I am not celebrating Christmas with this piece of garbage tree and if you think I am lying you just wait and see it will be Christmas morning and I will be nowhere to be found because of this stupid tree you people are all INSANE this is supposed to be fun Mother do I look like I am having fun Mother do I?
“No, Maj. You do not look like you are having fun. You look like the Lorax.”
She does, too. She is hopping and screaming and flailing her arms about as she runs through the muddy field of freshly cut stumps left behind by other Christmas Tree purchasers. She is beyond pissed . . . she is all the way out of control.
Snort!
I look at the sky. We have maybe ten minutes.
“Cut the tree, Mark. This is the perfect tree.”
Kallan squeals with delight.
I speak soothing words of Christmas cheer and tree perfection to Maj as Mark quickly cuts the tree down.
Maj screams and rants.
Mark and I carry the tree to the parking lot.
Maj screams and rants.
I try to speak soothingly, but now she is pissing me off.
And then Maj screams out, in front of other families and their small children . . .
“I hate this tree! I hate this tree and Santa is going to hate this tree! Do you hear me? This is the worst tree ever! SANTA IS GOING TO HATE THIS TREE!”
OK, that’s it.
Mark and Kallan can take care of paying for the tree.
I haul Maj over to the car and toss her in.
Climb in with her.
Maj is livid, “THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE FUN, MOTHER! WHY DO YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO RUIN EVERYTHING? YOU RUIN EVERYTHING! WHY? WHY MUST YOU DO THAT?”
Sigh.
As we drive away?
The hail falls again.
Maj leans forward to scream into my ear, “I’m sorry! I get overwhelmed. This is a good tree. I’m sorry.”
I reach back to pat her leg.
I need a beer.
I think Maj really outdid herself: “Santa is going to haste this tree!” Snort. Have fun putting up your tree. Love to you all, especially Elinor.
In my hurry to be commenter number 1 (yay!) I, of course, created a typo. And, me being me, must point it out and correct it (little bit of Maj in me, perhaps?)
That was “hate” not “haste.”
Thank you.
My job here is done.
Silly you.
Elinor is beautiful . . . Maj just gets overwhelmed.
Poor Maj.
Poor annoying Maj.
Sigh.
Oh man. I think I’m glad I have a fake tree. I can just imagine Isobel doing that, too. I do feel for her, though. I get overwhelmed, too. Just, not by Christmas trees.
Yes . . . Maj gets overwhelmed by the need for things to be perfect.
Things are rarely perfect.
Our family is not at all perfect.
This pisses Maj off no end.
You know what, Kris? You are a damn good mom.
Sigh.
I did need that beer.
Thank you.
I miss the 2 and 3 year old tantrums. The days you could just pick them up and carry them off to a quiet place. In those days it was only screaming and crying – no hateful words. It was simpler days.
Katie’s 8 year old tantrums are now full of mean words meant to be hurtful (but often unintentionally funny). They can be so very embarrassing. And still, most of the time, I wish I could just carry her off to a quieter place until she can calm and speak about whatever made her so very frustrated.
Hugs to Maj.
I am all kinds of over being embarrassed about tantrums.
But I am not going to have Maj screaming about how Santa hates our Christmas Tree as happy families and their children stare in horror.
So into the car she goes.
Not because I am embarrassed.
Just to contain her and give her a chance to breathe.
Didn’t mean that you are or were or should be embarrassed. Just meant that I still feel embarrassed when my daughter does it. Can you elaborate as to how you got “all kinds of over it”?
It’s called flooding.
Repeated and excessive exposure to the thing that causes embarrassment.
And then?
You’re over it.
Really.
“You look like the Lorax.”
I did not think I could love you anymore.
I was wrong.
Merry Christmas, Elinor.
Snort!
Thank you, Elinor.
Thank you very much.
Oh. My. Typo.
It should say, “any more.”
Sigh.
Still. Love.
Hee hee!
I didn’t even see your typo.
So sure was I of your love.
Snort!
I have this visual…
and I’m laughing so hard i need to go pee.
God I love Maj!
and you of course.
and Kallan.
and Mark especially!
Love you, silly peeing woman.
Love you very much.
Maj as the Lorax. What a great visual. I imagine not nearly so great when you had to actually deal with it. Hilarious from my end of the internet though. Hilarious.
It was actually pretty funny.
In a horrible sort of way.
Until I felt like Maj was ruining other families’ holiday fun.
And then . . . annoying.
Sigh.
geez, I NEED a beer.
and she apologized… see, she’s awesome, you deserve that beer!
Maj is usually pretty good about apologizing later.
But in that moment?
She sees nothing.
Snort!
It’s quite alright to name the tree Elinor. My computer’s name is Agnes.
Does Maj know that no tree is perfect? They all have issues. Just like people.
Trees do have character. And that’s what she has to look for. The proper character.
Maj knows that no tree is perfect.
And that whatever tree ends up coming home with us?
Will be perfect.
But she forgets.
Every year.
Well, at least she apoligized. And I have to say, for all the times your children have made a big deal in public places, you could be famous without Pretty All True… Sigh to you… :)
Wait!
Are you saying I am Pretty All True famous?
Snort!
Not even.
As for the girls’ antics?
I am infamous . . . not famous.
There’s a difference.
Sigh.
Yes, infamous seems like the correct word.
“And now, our guest today is… the infamous Kris from Oregon!”
Sigh.
Soon everyone will know me.
Sigh.
There are bonus’s and disadvantage’s to fame…
Three things I love:
1) Elinor. I would do that. yay Kallan.
2) Maj = Lorax
3) “I’m sorry! I get overwhelmed. This is a good tree. I’m sorry.” screamed in your ear. I would do that too…after my melt down. yay Maj
1) Kallan is lovely.
2) Maj is also lovely, but tends to get ragey.
3) Apologies? Even when screamed over the sound of bouncing hail? Are lovely.
Snort!
I also get ragey. I am on meds for that now though. weeee!
also? I always apologize. sometimes it is a screamy apology, but I always apologize.
plus I love it that she said “sometimes i get overwhelmed.”
i say that too. because often I do.
Maj surprises me with her self-awareness sometimes.
And her knowledge that an apology is required.
And her willingness to offer that apology.
If she could just stop the behavior that always gets her into trouble?
Geez, that would be awesome.
Sigh.
Which is why we have an artificial fucking tree.
And miss all this Christmas joy?
Not even.
I love a real tree.
Love.
See? Please tell that to all of my friends who think that getting a fake tree is better than getting a real one. Sure, it might be 21 degrees out, but the experience and memories (and christmas joy as you put it) is amazing. I remember getting our own tree and cuttting it down when I was little. That was the official start of “christmas”, and I loved it.
See?
Exactly.
This little Christmas Tree outing didn’t go as I imagined it would go.
Or as I hoped it would go.
But I will remember this tree?
Forever.
Love that.
Easy is not better.
We did that crap when I was a kid. Right after Thanksgiving we went to the farm to tag our tree. Then went back a few weeks later to chop it down. Then it spent a day outside to let it fall. Then drag the thing in and water it twelve times a day and vacuum up needles 17 times a day (yes Mom made us do that shit)… and sneeze my fucking brains out and scratch my eyes out for two magic weeks.
Allergies. See?
No. Thanks.
Maj is allergic to much of the outside world here in Oregon.
But not pine trees.
If she was allergic to pine trees?
We would find magic in a fake tree.
We so would.
Okay, if any of us were allergic, then we would fall into the catogory of “Fake tree buyers” but, since no one has the unfortunate allergy to the tree, then we will still willingly trudge out into the snow to get a real live tree.
Yes.
Agreed.
Is it weird that I am jealous of y
Jealous of me?
Your comment was cut off.
If you are indeed jealous of me?
Poor you.
Snort!
Your kids sound like a riot!
We have 5 big FAKE trees up! They are gorgeous, they don’t shed and they don’t need water so the cat’s don’t climb all through them anymore. Plus living in FL, you have to buy them from parking lots under lit canopy’s – not the same as tramping through a field!
And candles rock – bring on Christmas, I am ready!
My kids ARE a riot.
A sassy raging riot.
And did you say you have 5 trees?
Oh my goodness.
That’s a lot of Christmas!
First of all, this makes me glad I have a fake tree. Second of all, your kid is going to be an amazing woman when she grows up. She sounds alot like another little girl I used to know.. ME. And me? I’m pretty awesome.
I love a real tree.
I love everything about a real tree except the choosing of the real tree.
And Maj is awesome now and she will grow up to be an awesome woman.
She’s going to drive some people crazy, though.
Pretty sure.
Plus also?
You ARE awesome.
In case I wasn’t clear.
There’s nothing wrong with driving some people crazy. It keeps life interesting. Plus, there are always the people who get us overemotional, dramatic types that keep us grounded. And defend us to the people who we drive crazy.
My whole life is based on the notion that there is nothing wrong with driving some people crazy.
I drive a lot of people crazy.
Seriously.