LaReeca Rucker

Let’s be honest: the way you decorate your Christmas tree says a lot about you. It’s like a glittery, pine-scented personality test — without the pressure of multiple choice. Some people go for elegant, color-coordinated themes with perfectly spaced ribbons and matching metallic balls. Others throw on everything they’ve ever owned since childhood, creating a nostalgic mosaic of memories.

As for me? I fall somewhere in between — equal parts sentimentalist, craft junkie, and intergalactic oddball.

More than 20 years ago, I started collecting Christmas ornaments. It began as a simple idea: wouldn’t it be fun to add a few new ornaments to my tree every year? Not just buy them, but make them too — something personal, something meaningful, something me. That tradition quickly turned into a full-blown seasonal hobby, and now it’s an annual ritual that I look forward to almost as much as unwrapping gifts or eating my weight in peppermint bark.

One of my first collections featured porcelain cherubs — some I left untouched in their serene, angelic whiteness, and others I painted and glittered with love and way too much Mod Podge. After that, I dabbled in DIY glitter bombs — back before stores were packed with sparkly, ready-made ornaments. I grabbed plain glass balls and went wild with glue and glitter like a festive little mad scientist.

Over time, my ornaments became even more personal. I crafted keepsakes that featured photos of my beloved late pets — tiny tributes to the four-legged friends who made life cozier. Every year, I unwrap them carefully and hang them near the center of the tree, where they can be admired and remembered.

In recent years, I’ve added a new tradition to my ornament obsession: the annual Hobby Lobby pilgrimage. Sometime between Black Friday chaos and mid-December, I venture into that dazzling maze of seasonal sparkle and lose all sense of time. I scour every aisle for ornaments that speak to me — sometimes literally (talking ornaments are a thing now). Of course, I don’t stop at Hobby Lobby. I also poke around Walmart, Fred’s, and every dollar store I pass. (Never underestimate the hidden treasures tucked between garlands and stocking stuffers at your local Dollar Tree.)

But here’s where things get even more me. There are a few very specific things I’m always on the hunt for, year after year: aliens, robots, and monsters.

Yep, while most people are out there buying jolly Santas or sparkly snowflakes, I’m over here asking, “Do you have any extraterrestrial ornaments?” Last year, I struck gold and managed to find at least one ornament in each of my favorite weirdo categories. The alien has an oddly endearing expression. The robot looks like it came straight out of a 1950s sci-fi flick. And the monster? Well, it’s a delightfully creepy little gremlin who has become the star of the lower tree branches.

Tomorrow, I’m upping the game. I plan to hit not one but two local Christmas craft events in search of the next quirky treasure for my tree. I’m hoping to find another unusual character (maybe a zombie reindeer or a cryptid wearing a Santa hat), but if not, I might just roll up my sleeves and make one myself. There’s something incredibly satisfying about crafting your own ornament — it’s the perfect blend of creativity, tradition, and holiday spirit with a dash of glitter and glue gun burns.

And that’s the heart of it for me. My tree isn’t just a decoration. It’s a visual timeline, a memory capsule, and a celebration of all the oddball interests and people and pets I’ve loved over the years. Every ornament has a story. Every branch holds a little bit of my life.

So, what about you? Are you a collector of penguins, pinecones, or vintage glass bulbs? Do you have an ornament you hang every year that makes you tear up, laugh out loud, or go “What was I thinking?” I’d love to hear your ornament stories — the more sentimental or strange, the better.

Shoot me an email, and tell me what’s hanging on your tree. Because while Santa might be checking his list, I’m checking every craft booth, store shelf, and ornament rack for the next little piece of Christmas magic to call my own.