Deck The Halls . . . And Also Daddy???

This weekend we headed out to choose our Christmas tree, and yesterday set about decorating it. The kids were all so excited and we had a great time. It was so nice having my Mom here this year for tree trimming! The kids take turns putting the star on the top of the finished tree, and this year Josh was up, literally:

Stop the presses, folks! I got a picture of Joel smiling!

Behold, a bona fide Christmas Miracle:

Remember I promised I would not be photographed until my hair grows out? Yes Joel, this goes for tree trimming too. After much badgering, I finally consented to him snapping ONE picture, on ONE condition: I would use my bad hair to cover my face:

My Mom loves Christmas - and Josh. You put the two together, and she makes this face:

Eli was determined to put every ornament on a bottom branch.

Here he is demonstrating just why he does that:

Nope Eli, that excuse just won't cut it. If Hannah can manage some higher branches, so can you. By the way - see that can of soda on the table next to Hannah? When the tree was finished, we turned out all the house lights and prepared ourselves to be dazzled by our glittering masterpiece. I bent to plug in the tree lights, and knocked the entire contents of the soda can all over the carpet. I am happy to say that I did not curse out loud, and it all came out of the carpet. I thought the soda was all the disaster we could expect out of one day. Silly, naive little me.

After the tree was trimmed and lit, I began preparing dinner and Daddy began seriously riling up the kids with a very loud, chaotic wrestling match. I admit, I am the kill joy of the family. I'm always the one saying "Slow Down!", or "Watch out for the sheer drop off!", or "Don't point that dart gun at your sister's eye!"

Think I'm just being funny?

I've actually said each one of those phrases within the past two months, at least.

So you'll understand why as the wrestling match continued to escalate in both noise and chaos, I started getting nervous. I started watching the clock, wondering how long it would take before someone was screaming or bleeding - or more likely - both. I wondered which kid it would be, and how bad it would be.

Then it happened.

Looking back, I realize that I did hear a sickening "crack" and "snap" before Joel came running into the kitchen with blood pouring from his face and four very frightened looking little hawks following closely behind.

Apparently Emma came shooting backwards out of a crouch, directly into Joel's unsuspecting nose - and broke it. Emma was devastated, and cried inconsolably for a long while.

Despite the horror of the situation, it was sort of funny to hear her sobbing,

"Daddy I'm soooooo sorry I broke your nose!"

Just another of those phrases you never expected to hear your kid say.

Joel's nose is slightly crooked, very swollen, and I'm sure very painful (though he'd never admit that) but he refused to visit Urgent Care and opted to be nursed at home instead:

And who do you think his nurse was? Well, Hannah of course! While I mopped up the bloody footprints that were all over the place, Hannah pitched in and cleaned up the source:
I forced Joel to let me take this picture of him before he left for work. Oh, okay - you can't really force Joel to do anything. But it took alot of persuasion (read: "whining, pleading, and badgering") for me to gain permission to document this Gigantic Nose:

Oops! I mean, this momentous occasion: