Freaking Awesome.

29 12 2011

That would be the answer to the question “How was your Christmas?”.  Good food.  Lots of family.  Cheesy music.  Grins and chuckles from my little girl (until skipping that morning nap kicked in, around mid afternoon).  And, yes, Hazel was indoctrinated into the American tradition of a consumer holiday, with presents galore (and I don’t feel a bit guilty about it – damn, it was fun!).

And so many pictures I would love to share…  Here is just one, Hazel with the entire content of her stocking in her lap (and/or mouth).  YAY, CHRISTMAS!

 

Okay, well, here’s another one.  This is Hazel with her first wrapped Christmas gift – from Aunt Phil and Uncle Chris:

And you know what?  Three pictures out of the hundred-plus that I took is total restraint.  So I am going to post just one more, because what is cuter than the baby sitting on Dad’s lap, reading his old Christmas Golden Books?

Like I said.

Freaking.  Awesome.

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He Sees You Doing That, Too

19 12 2011

I was SO anticipating our first obligatory screaming-in-Santa’s-lap Christmas photo.  Therefore, I should have known that my tempermental momma’s-girl would wake up from a little nap and allow herself to be placed in Santa’s arms without so much as a murmur of protest.

Damn it.

No tears, and certainly no screaming.  Just a sweet baby who made the big guy say, “What a quiet baby!” while everyone who truly knows the little angel rolled their eyes at each other.

However, the day was not a total loss.  Santa got a little surprise.  Well, a big enough surprise that he felt it and checked his white gloves once he handed her back.  And when we got home and looked at the photos, I was thrilled to discover that I actually captured on camera the exact moment when Hazel pooped on Santa.

All I Want for Christmas is a Clean Diaper





Guess Who’s Coming to Town Tomorrow…

16 12 2011

 

…and she is stretching her lungs for him already.





‘Tis the Season

11 12 2011

My sister-in-law recently asked me about our plans for Christmas.  Not this Christmas, but, you know, CHRISTMAS.  As in, the big guy in the red suit, and the traditions Jason and I are going to establish for our family.

It was a pretty heavy conversation for a sleep-deprived mother.

“I NEED TO TALK TO JASON,” I told my sister-in-law, suddenly panicked.  I didn’t understand how we could have left THE MOST IMPORTANT PARENTING DECISION SO FAR until our daughter was almost TWO MONTHS OLD.

Christmas, to me, is the ultimate kid holiday, probably in part because I’m not a big costume person.  Being the socially awkward individual that I am, Halloween was never a big success for me once I was about 8 or 9; I always felt just a little… off.  You know, I wore a giant-cardboard-box-style costume when all my friends were dainty little princesses, or I wore a costume the year that EVERYONE else in my class decided that they were too cool for costumes.

But Christmas… Oh, man.  Santa seemed to know exactly what I wanted.  My mother can give plenty of examples of when Santa was wrong, but, honestly, I don’t remember those times.  And Christmas was huge.  I suppose that it was only a few years when we really managed to get Christmas dinner all of my mother’s side of the family plus some of my stepdad’s family, plus a few friends, but when I think of Christmas, those are the times I remember.  The two dozen or so people crammed around the dinner table, the stuffy adults chatting in the living room while the black sheep had a sarcasm contest in the kitchen…

My (step)dad playing Christmas carols on the piano while we all sang along.

Christmas is still full of anticipation for me, now that I am an adult.  Not that I want anything that Santa could bring (my dad, healthy, alive, and playing piano? do they sell that at Target?).  But the time of year when people really are nicer.  And when you can surprise someone with just the right gift (my mom really did want that doggy DNA test I gave her last year).  But as much as I still look forward to the season, it just doesn’t fulfill the nameless expectation anymore.

But Christmas with kids?  Christmas with my own kid?

Yup.  That’s what Christmas really needs.

Jason and I came up with a brief list of what our Christmases will be like – and it’s nothing out of the ordinary.  Santa will be in charge of stockings, and will probably come through with one bigger gift.  The baby will get a new pair of pajamas on Christmas Eve (this is new to us, but SUCH a fun idea!).  And really, reading that description, it doesn’t reflect the urgent need to pin down some details that flooded me when sister-in-law asked me about Christmas.

All I can say is that when you’re a kid, Christmas is magic and nothing seems better.

Until you’re a parent.  And you’re MAKING the magic for your child.

And, well, that is pretty damn important.  Even if she’s only three months old.








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