Christmas #3 and #4 have been completed. Hubby and I are still exhausted and, frankly, still in shock, and Junior is very much off his sleep schedule.
It all started Christmas morning, 7am, Junior had woken up as usual, so we figured we’d just get up and get the event started. Hubby and I made a big deal out of telling Junior, as we changed his diaper, that Santa had come even though all the snow had melted. I told him that I had seen reindeer tracks on the lawn, so Santa must have done a ground landing with all the high gusty winds that shook the house. Junior looked at me wide eyed, flailed his little limbs around and let out a burp. He had no clue what I was talking about. We paraded down the stairs and into the living room, our Christmas tree twinkling with lights, low music playing in the background. Junior did pretty good, he ripped at paper, usually stuffing it in his mouth, but he seemed curious to the packages and he even let out a giggle when Hubby stuck an Elmo hat on his head (a matching hat to our Bert and Ernie). Junior received some learning interactive toys from us, a few items of clothes and a very large rubber ducky which he immediately clawed at and goobered on. We didn’t see the need to spoil him at his age, where the tissue paper and cardboard boxes held more fun than the expensive items in them. When he started to rub his eyes we put him back to bed for a nap and we continued on with our own gifts. Hubby had done very well this year with purchasing gifts that I enjoyed. A beautiful dragonfly necklace, lots of classic books to add to Junior’s library, a board game, and a new purse. I laughed a little since Hubby had found me an awesome cast iron deer door knocker, and I in turn had purchased a large cast iron pig dinner bell. It seems we have the same great taste. Later in the morning, we realized there was a forgotten bag under the tree, that simply had Junior’s name on it, no “from” message. But as soon as I opened it, I knew that only one person could be the sender. My aunt is well-known in our family (and probably the whole county) as a master quilt maker, almost a lost art, and there, in this gift bag was a quilted blanket, little woodland animals and owls on every square inch. A perfect match to his theme, and right up our alley. I have quickly replaced his crib blanket with the quilt and he now curls up each night wrapped in hand made love.
Christmas #4, later in the day, is a bit of a blur. Hubby’s family can be quite chaotic and I expected nothing less than pure unchecked in-law fun. We drove over to the family house and soon it was packed with kids, screaming, running, bouncing, falling. The present opening began and it likened itself to a snatch and grab boxing day sale, paper flying in all directions, presents being thrown, tossed and piled, shouting began, children cried and screamed and Hubby, and myself with Junior on my lap, sat astounded. Since moving to the country, we’ve grown quite accustomed to the quiet, gentle pace of life. Junior’s mouth was agape, staring wide eyed at the frenzy about us. To be fair the family kids are at that busy age, and perhaps it’s the new thing to have the living room turn into a post tornado afflicted location. But soon enough the chaos subsided and from the mountains of torn paper emerged an immense amount of interactive toys for Junior, along with stuffed toys, a new sled. For Hubby and I, a new power tool, some pillows and some towels. I might push to have a budget in place for next year as Junior was BEYOND spoiled with many gifts, and we felt horrible to not be able to reciprocate the kind gesture (although I think we would have had to re-mortgage the house to do so). I’d also love to see the kids take more time, enjoying the occasion, thanking the senders and actually looking at their gifts. But maybe I’m just an old lady now, and I’ve forgotten about the excitement of Christmas morning.
Dinner soon followed, the traditional turkey with all the fixings, a delicious, decadent meal. Crackers snapped and soon everyone including Junior was wearing tissue paper crowns and blowing up balloon animals (I’m ridiculously afraid of balloons… their unpredictability grates on my nerves).
By 7pm, we were done, and poor Junior hadn’t slept a wink for all the busy excitement around him, so we packed the car (to the roof) with our prizes, and tucked Junior into his seat. I don’t think we made it out of the driveway before soft snoring could be heard from the back seat (coming from Junior, not Hubby, just to clarify.)