Baby's First ChristmasWednesday, December 28, 2011
To be completely honest, this Christmas day wasn't the most wonderful time of the year in our home. Instead of the spirit of the baby Jesus we had more of a demon on our hands, in the form of a very crabby, growth-spurty six-week-old hell bent on making opening gifts, preparing and eating Christmas dinner, and doing basically anything not involving feeding, burping, changing or otherwise comforting him next to impossible. It was one of those days where Eli wouldn't nap, no matter what we tried to do. Wakey baby = wakey mom. It wasn't pretty. I burst into tears more than once that day and went to bed at 8:00 already making plans in my head for how to ensure next Christmas won't be such a gong show.
I know that someday we'll look back at this holiday and laugh. "The Christmas When Eli Was Born" will be the stuff of family legends. It was just another reminder that when you're a parent you can't plan for anything. Eli doesn't give a hoot if it's Jesus' birthday or that he's getting a bajillion presents or that we want to shove turkey into our guts while not being serenaded by baby screeches. He's growing like a weed and feeling shitty and he's going to spend the day letting us know.
And I know there's no guarantee next year will be better. I remember countless Christmases when I was small and one of us would miraculously develop the stomach flu, tonsilitis, or chicken pox right on cue at 6:00AM December 25, year after year. Once you have a kid all bets are off, apparently. They may be the smallest peeps in the house but they definitely rule the roost.
But looking back on this Christmas, there were lots of nice moments. Going for a walk after lunch with all my boys. Helping Peter get the potatoes and turnips ready for dinner (by "helping" I mean holding the baby and giving Pete instructions - there was no way Eli was letting us set him down on Christmas day. Hooo no.) Enjoying a glass of wine with dinner, even if my poor husband had to eat his turkey feast with one hand because he was, you guessed it, holding the baby with his other. Cracking open my Philosophy The Gingerbread Man hot salt scrub and shower gel during my 10 minutes of peace in the bathroom. And in a happy turn of events, the growth spurt seems to have eased up and we're getting more of our cheery boy back over the past few days.
Christmas this year wasn't bad, far from it. Just...different. As they're all going to be from now on.