Like most Mothers in America, I walk around with holiday decor for days saying, “Hmm, where to put it, where does it go?”  We run through the Mommy Christmas Algorithm: A) Is it breakable?  Yes? It goes on the mantle (meaning MOST of the house is now precariously balanced on my mantle).  B) Will Kelly try to eat it?  Yes?  Top third of the tree.  C) Will the cats try to eat it?  Yes?  Put it out, secretly hoping they will eat it and we can give the girls new kittens for Easter.  WAIT.  Did I say that out loud?  My apologies, but Max is a night owl and and he and I aren’t on speaking terms right now.  D) Will Greg and/or the girls try to use it as some kind of athletic toy/throwable thingy and/or decide they need to take it apart?  Yes?  Put it all back in the box and tell them Christmas decorating has been outlawed until my family stops breaking the Nutcracker in half.

I love my small collection of silver and blue, which stands apart in my sea of red and green.  It should be someplace special, someplace worthy of its sparkle.  And then it hit me!  My kitchen window.  Right above the sink where I spend 99.999999% of my day.  I consider it my own little corner of the world…just me, my beautiful snowflakes, and piles and piles of dirty dishes.  Ah…sweet peace…