On Friday, everything looks good

I love a Friday; it's my favorite day of the week. It holds the promise of the weekend - no work, no getting up early, just taking it easy. I have three evenings to take it easy.

Not that I'll be taking it that easy - life does not work that way when one has three children. Tonight I am being forced to see a high school play. Alison isn't even in the cast - she's on the crew. But in my official capacity as publicity mom for the drama booster club, I feel obligated. I'm sure it will be fine, but I could live with staying home. Tomorrow we have various and sundry activities, and tomorrow night is the Big Game.

Do not tell me you know not to which game I am referring. Go Tigers! ESPN's Game Day airs from San Antonio tomorrow - look for Gary's college friend Pat Forde to provide commentary.

We may even haul out the Christmas decorations. I love the holidays; I love the decorations. But it has become a chore. I remember when we lived in our first house, all our Christmas stuff fit in one box. I think we're up to about a dozen - and they ain't small. A high school friend and his family had something like 45 Christmas trees at their house - some sort of perverse hobby. Every year, as I unpack our four trees and all the miscellany that accompanies four trees, I think of them. With some empathy. And think to myself wow, they must have really loved the holidays. It takes all the energy I can muster to unpack all this stuff. And it takes a couple of days before all the empty boxes are returned to the attic.

As I said, it's a lot of work. The kids are good for, say, 30 minutes. Then they have had their fill of saying, Ooooh and Aaaah, and, Oh! I remember that one. Then they're done.

When it's done, we usually stand around and feel the love as we admire our main tree, which is truly lovely. It's designed by Yours Truly, and I am always moved by the ornaments, many of which were made by the girls or gifts to them. I love the little church, an exact replica of the one my great grandmother gave my older brother. I like our Weihnachtspyramid, a beloved souvenir of our German Christmases. I love my miniature Christmas village, comprising actual buildings in Lafayette. I love the old tree, which now sits in the game room upstairs, covered by toy ornaments; I love the small tree that sits on a landing above the front door - a second-story tree. And I love the Evergleam - what could be kitschier? And nothing says Merry Christmas quite like an aluminum tree. And I smile at Sylvia's personal decorations - a special request to Santa when she was about three. She still puts them up in her room .... I suspect this is our last year to have an actual Santa believer in our midst.

It's all charming; it's all beautiful. And when it's time to put it all away in January, it's a huge relief. One month a year is enough to have our house overrun with red and greenery, displacing furniture. It may be the most wonderful time of the year, but it's also the most hectic. As glad as I am to see it come, I'll be equally glad to pack it all away.