Christmas ornaments

After going to two ornament exchanges in the last week, I learned something about myself.  I realized why I'm never that excited about the ornaments at exchanges.  I freely admit that they're beautiful.  The thing with me and ornaments is that I like two types:  thematic ones that contribute to the overall look...

thematic case in point

 ...and ones with a certain sentimental significance.  If they're ugly (and believe me, some of mine really are) I don't mind in the least.  Because they matter.

Our family room Christmas tree has a certain scrapbook quality to it.  It's a three dimensional record of my life.

There's the angel ornament I got as a little girl (I bought Emma a matching one and we always hang them side by side).

There are other ornaments I've had since I was a little girl.

The sugarplum fairy my parents gave me the year we went to the Nutcracker Ballet and my Donald Duck from my first ever trip to Disneyland.

There is an ornament from Adam's childhood.

It's a soccer player made of salt dough.  Every year I fear is its last but it is hardy.

There are also newer ornaments that mark occasions in our life:

from when we took our kids to London

I love seeing these ornaments and remembering.

It makes me happy to hang these three soldiers on our tree.  Olivia got them for us in Poland.

one soldier is distracted and not looking at the camera

 I tried to narrow down the three ugliest ornaments I have (it was hard).  They are so ugly, yet so beloved.

First, this plastic-canvas-googly-eyes-yarn-and-pom-pom confection:

I think I was about six when my mom brought it home from somewhere.  I begged her and she gave it to me.  It's a testament of my mother's love for her little girl (I mean how could she part with something so lovely unless she really loved me?) and also a testament to some person's fabulous taste in craft projects.  Someone spent a bit of time on that poor thing!  

Second, the ornament Marianne and I made:

 

It was part of a kit and the base is a Styrofoam ball.  Notice the dingy and nasty ribbon.  It is a sight to behold.  Marianne insists that she still has hers and that it's pretty.  I believe the first part of her statement but not the second.

Next, this glamorous velvet delicacy:

You may be surprised (because you didn't know I was so talented) but I made it in 5th grade.  Actually Nathan Shirtcliff finished it for me because all the bus kids had to leave early because of a snow storm.  I deserve all the acclaim for it though.  (Stop trying to take credit for my masterpiece Nathan Shirtcliff!)

Honorable mention: Mark's Yoda with a severe head injury.

Poor Yoda was a casualty of the year our tree fell over.  We don't talk about that anymore (too painful) but we still hang Yoda carefully on the tree.  His head is half gone but look at the resolve in his eyes.  He will soldier on like a good Jedi.