When my husband and I first got married, we lived in a tiny, older apartment in Ann Arbor, Michigan. Our apartment was halfway between my husband’s school (UofM) and mine (EMU). The residents were mostly actual adults with jobs (I don’t know why, but I did not feel like an adult at the time) with a few married students, like us, sprinkled in.
We spent our first married Christmas in that apartment. Growing up, my family always went out the day after Thanksgiving and cut down our own real Christmas tree. My husband and I thought we would be super grown up and go out and start our own Christmas traditions the same way- with a real Christmas tree.
We went to a farm, found the perfect tree, and then luged that beautiful tree up the stairs to our 3rd story apartment and decorated that bad boy. We immensely enjoyed the piney scent and, once decorated, the way it felt like Christmas at home.
Once Christmas had passed, and we returned to our apartment after visiting relatives, it was time to dispose of our beloved tree. Back home, there was a day set aside for “Christmas tree pickup” where the trash truck came by to pick up trees. We were hopeful that our apartment had something similar setup.
My husband called the apartment office and said, “I was wondering if there was a particular day for Christmas tree pickup or if there’s another way we are supposed to dispose of our Christmas tree.”
The person answering the phone replied “you aren’t supposed to have real Christmas trees in these apartments. What apartment are you in?”
After my husband quickly hung up, we realized we had a problem. How do we get this needle-dropping, now dead Christmas tree out of our apartment without getting in trouble and yet still making sure it gets taken care of properly? We weren’t litterbugs, and the tree certainly couldn’t STAY in our apartment long-term.
We came up with a plan to dispose of the said tree by the cover of the night. (We usually lamented how dark the parking lot and green space were, but we embraced it this cold January eve.) We would sneak out of our apartment, with the 7-foot tall pine tree, and throw it into the gigantic dumpster in the back parking lot.
My husband carried the tree on his back, and I followed behind, dust-bustering as many needles as I possibly could from the hall and stairwell. We made it to the dumpster, hauled the tree up into it, and then did a fast-mall-walker-walk back into our apartment. We made it.
The problem with dragging a dead pine tree to the dumpster in the middle of the night is that it’s dark. While we could see where we were going, we couldn’t see much behind us, where we had been. In the morning we looked out our back window and quickly discovered that particular flaw in our plan. There was a VERY obvious trail of needles leading from our building to the dumpster. It was as if the needles were pointing directly to the culprit.
To our knowledge, the police were never called to the scene. There was no inquiry. No email to all residents regarding the “Christmas tree incident”. No “wanted” signs were posted with our pictures.
We got away with it. But, man, I had some MAJOR guilt after for evening having the tree in the first place.
Sometimes parenting feels like that Christmas tree to me.
There are things we did because our parents did them. Maybe we saw other people doing them. We didn’t realize, at the time, that we “should’ve” (in our minds) done things differently.
Learning that we could have made a different choice can cause a lot of guilt. Thinking you caused your child possible harm can cause a lot of parenting guilt. I know I blamed my daughter’s asthma on choices I made in pregnancy/birth for a LONG time. I was guilt-ridden every time she coughed. It wasn’t the truth, but it felt like I caused it to happen once I learned the risks of my choices.
As someone several years into this parenting gig, I want to simply encourage you to let go of that guilt. We continually learn things, find more evidence, and change our decisions.
I have no profound words except what has been repeated to me over the years. I leave you with this mantra, and an affirmation I use when I feel the guilt creeping in.
We make the best choices we can with the information we have at the time.
YOU made the best decisions you could with the information you had at the time.
