A Vifit Home

When I first moved to Boston, way back when I was still a single lady, my cousin Leslie and my old roommate Jeanna came to see me for a few days. We walked the Freedom Trail, went to some of the historic sites in the area, and stopped in at a cool museum about the Minute Man Trail. There were all these old copies of letters and documents that people wrote back in the 1700s... very cool.

I was standing in front of a copy of one of these old letters, reading aloud for us about some of the founding fathers' intimate lives. I read along... something about "so-and-so came for several days to vifit."

"Vifit??" I turned to Les and Jeanna. "Vifit?? What's a vifit?"

They looked at me in confusion, then looked to the letter I was reading. ViSit. Yes, it actually said visit. But it was that old-time handwriting script, where the S actually looked like an F. We laughed and laughed, saying all kinds of things where we could use the word "vifit" -- so glad you guys came to vifit me... hahahah! I hope my parents come to vifit... hahahah! Maybe we should have some other vifitors join us... hahahah!

Kay, so maybe it was just funny to me. But it still is. So, I thought I'd let you all know... we're coming home to Idaho and Utah VIFIT ! Today!! Yay!

I hope we can get everything packed up, including all the medications my children are taking. Can I just tell you, it has been a week?!?!? As in, not so good, actually. It started with a vifit to the doctor for Spencer on Monday -- double ear infection, poor boy.

Next day we had to go get an x-ray of his adenoids, because they seem to be enlarged.

Then it was Natalie's turn. After two days of nearly constant screaming, we took her to see the doctor yesterday... double ear infection. And I thought those weren't supposed to be contagious!?! bleh. While we were there for her appt, the doctor told us there was a cancellation with an ENT, if we wanted to take Spence across the valley to get his adenoids checked out for real.

So, off we went to our fourth doctor's vifit... great ENT (if anyone wants a referral in NY?), but the whole wait-forever-to-see-the-really-great-pediatric-ENT was kind of a nightmare... Three kids, tiny room, lots of doctor's instruments and things NOT to play with, a screaming one-year-old who still feels crummy about her ear infection. More bleh.

And now? Good morning Samantha. What's that you say?? Sore throat? Fever?? Oh dear... off we go again! We fly at 6 p.m. I guess the bright side is that we have now every excuse to drug our kids for the flight. ha!!

Anyway, we're excited to come, and hope to be able to catch up with lots of family and friends while we're in the area... Fun times ahead!

To Sleep, or Not to Sleep?

I laid my baby down for a nap 45 minutes ago. She had been fed, had a bottle, even had on a fresh clean diaper after filling her pants. I then went about my daily chores, and walked past her bedroom several times to hear lots of chattering, singing, occasional thumping on the wall. Finally, I opened the door to check on her and found this...

She looks so sleepy, doesn't she??

But who can be upset at such cuteness?!? (I think you can actually see her two little teeth on the bottom if you blow up this pic below)...

Even if she is completely unaware that her nap will now be a SHORT one, since she chose to play for the first 45 minutes, and we still have to go pick up Sammie in just over an hour...

Oh well... Luckily, she is a VERY happy girl most of the time, nap or no nap...

Since Natalie chose not to nap for the past while, I decided I'd choose not to nap too, and would blog a random update, even though it's a perfect rainy day outside, and soooo tempting to curl up in bed for a few lazy minutes.

Nope, instead, I present to you, pictures of our latest Snow Day from last weekend. Actually, it's been our ONLY snowy day since that crazy storm back in October that ruined our Halloween party. Weird weather here, but we're not complaining!

We thoroughly enjoyed our one day of snow and ice, and thought it was especially nice that it came on a Saturday! The kids ate breakfast, then we all bundled up to go out and PLAY!!!

Samantha is a die hard snow-lovin' girl! She was the first one out, last one in, and begged for more later in the day, as usual.

Spencer was not to be outdone by his sister this time. He got cold, but managed to stay out and get in almost as much snow time as Samantha..

And Natalie had her first snow adventures, so fun!

She got up close and personal with it, and didn't mind too much...

She was especially fascinated with her mittens, and kept watching the snow on them. I LOVE watching babies in the snow. She was wobbling all over the place, but kept her balance pretty well.

King of the Mountain!!

Snow Queen, with ice in her hair...

We even made it down to our pond, which was just starting to freeze over a bit. The ducks haven't left for the winter. Maybe ducks don't do that?? (5 secs after I took this pic, Nat tried to climb OFF the bridge and into the pond 8-10 feet below! they really don't have any common sense at that age, do they?!)

And back inside for hot chocolate to warm everybody up...

Natalie was VERY pleased by the hot chocolate.

And Spencer too, of course!

Just so you know they aren't always quite so perfectly cute, here's Natalie eating her dinner last night... totally COVERED in rice and gravy. It's a daily occurrence. Then she smells like whatever tasty meal we had, until bath time. Sigh...

As for the post-surgery updates... Good. and Good.
My mom had surgery on her left rotator cuff last Friday. It's been a rough week with lots of narcotics and rest for her. But she's doing well. She had a follow-up visit yesterday and the doctor was very positive and said it all looks great. Whew! It's just a long recovery process, and her arm is pinned to her side, which can't be very fun. Anyway, I'm just glad everything went well for her, and that she's now on the mend!

As for Spencer, his surgery went really well, also. We forgot the camera (can you believe?? -- guess blogging/documenting it for public consumption wasn't exactly the first thing on our minds, eh?) But luckily, Brian had his trusty Blackberry with him, to take this sweet picture of our little hospital goer...

He was a perfect patient, and has had a really smooth recovery. It's been much better than I expected. In fact, to go along with the title of our post, he's actually been sleeping BETTER since his surgery than he was before (knock on wood!). Even after he got off the tylenol w/codeine (which he only took twice!).  Yay! Of course, at this precise moment he is a growly, whiny little bear because I turned off his Netflix so we can go get Samantha. Oh well... all is normal, which means all is good, right?!? We're just glad it all went smoothly and that he's our happy little boy again. Modern medicine is an absolute miracle to me. Miracle. And Blessing.

Anyway, bye for now! 56 degrees out there. In January. Weird, but I am NOT complaining!!

Nimpadoodee, Pope-ee-dope, and other randomness

Wow! First, thanks for all the comments, sympathy, and encouragement from that last post. I know it sounded like I was practically BEGGING for some comments... well, thanks for coming out of the woodwork (or off your i-phones), to show your support. Along the lines of a "report" -- I DID indeed try to go to sleep early the night I wrote that post. But then there were lots of "interruptions" all night... wind, Spencer, Brian, Spencer again, more wind, etc. Sigh. Not all nights are as restorative as I might wish, eh?

Anyway, on to the title of this post: Nimpadoodee.
This is Spencer's own made-up word. I'm not exactly sure when it became a favorite -- maybe sometime this past fall? Well, he says it every day, many times a day, and it really has no meaning it all. He uses it to torment poor Samantha. In a soft little sing-song voice, he walks by Sammie and sings, "Nimpadooooo-dee!" -- holds onto the "dooooo" for emphasis.

Her reaction is hilarious, and somewhat over-the-top, I think. She first starts running away from him; then covers her ears as he follows her with his chant; then yells, "STOP THAT NIMPADOODEE!!"; then finally resorts to dramatic tears of frustration.

I feel kind of funny ordering Spencer, "No more nimpadoodee right now, okay?" But what else am I to do? I mean, it's a made-up word, but its soul purpose seems to be irritating his poor sister. Oh, the woes of siblinghood!

I have reminded Samantha that she also has a made-up word of her own:
Pope-ee-dope. (Not sure how one would really spell that one, so I'm just going with the phonetic pronunciation for ya.) Yep. Pope-ee-dope was her own creation way back in London. And its use was somewhat similar to Nimpadoodee -- she would say it when she got a little bit frustrated with us -- "Daddy! Don't be a Pope-ee-dope!" And we thought it was hilarious then, still do even now.

But unfortunately, it does not have the same antagonizing effect on Spencer... Spencer starts in with Nimpadoodee, and so Samantha smugly turns around and says "Pope-ee-dope" right back to him. He only smiles, and continues with his little sing-song, "Nimpadooooo-dee!" She tries another "Pope-ee-dope" but he seems completely unphased by her attempts. So then, she eventually resorts to running away, screaming at him, then crying... Poor Samantha.

Maybe I'm not properly mothering on this one. I mean, after all, Nimpadoodee and Pope-ee-dope could be considered by some to be name-calling -- which I try not to allow. (No "stupid," or "dumb-dumb face" or anything like that, ya know?) But well... Nimpa-doooooodee-- c'mon. It's a tiny bit funny, isn't it? I don't let it get too out of hand, and when she's really bothered, I do make him stop... time-out usually does the trick. Sigh. Always the referee, I am.

Samantha's best reactions have been, one evening, just before dinner, she yelled out from the living room: " SPENCER!!!!! I HAVE HAD ENOUGH NIMPADOODEE!!!!!"

And on her birthday, as they were laying in bed ready to go to sleep, he started his chant and she sniffled out: "You're making me have a BAD BIRTHDAY, with all your NIMPADOODEE!!!" -- I made him stop, that time. I mean, it was her birthday, after all, right?

Well, here's our Nimpadoodee man, himself, looking a little bit sly, hehehe...

He's going in for a minor surgery on Monday... he was born with a hernia (on his little boy parts, ahem). Weird, huh? It's an outpatient surgery, and the doctors have assured us that he should be "back to normal" within a week. But still, it's a big deal to the Mommy to have my Baby Boy go through this. Send us some prayers, please!

And while you're praying... might as well add a prayer for my mom, too. She's going in for a surgery on her rotator cuff (shoulder) this afternoon. It's been on my mind a lot lately. She had major back surgery back in November, and has been waiting to be well enough to do this surgery (which actually needed to be done before the back surgery, but the back surgery was more pressing.)

As you can imagine, it's hard being so very far away from her when these "big" events are happening for her. I feel a little helpless and distant -- wish there was more I could do for her. But I do believe in the power of prayer, and feel a lot of comfort there. I'll try to put up an update, in a few days... on both Spencer and my mom. Kay?

Bye for now... Nimpadoooooo-dee!

Up and down, or down and up?

It's a bit of a rough ride around here, folks. And this little entry is possibly better suited for a journal instead of a blog. But, as I find myself in front of the computer tonight, and as I see that no one is commenting anyway (sniff sniff -- not a single person cared to write ANYTHING about Samantha's birthday??), I'll just use this as my attempt at journaling a bit of our latest.

It's about the Job. As in, Brian's Job. We all know it's unbearable, and we've all known that from Day One, right? (And by "we" I include all you lurking readers who have heard the ghastly tales in past posts.) Yes, we know it stinks. And really, it doesn't do to dwell on the downers. But sometimes, well... the glass seems far *less* than just half full. What's the optimistic way to say there's only a tiny little bit left in that darn glass?? I think we need a fill up, please!

I started off this new year with a "new attitude!!" I set a bunch of goals, and had a GREAT first week of 2012. Well, great, except for the fact that Brian was gone, gone, and more gone every day and most of every night. But I tried not to dwell on that... ate healthy food, did some yoga, read stories to the kiddos, cleaned the bathrooms, and even went to bed at a reasonable hour. For a whole week!

Then, it became Week Two. And well... Brian still wasn't home. At all. So, why bother going bed at a reasonable hour, if HE wasn't?! I had hardly lost any weight, so why bother eating quite so healthy? (Don't worry, I didn't binge too badly.) Also, aren't the kids just as easily entertained by Netflix as they are by stories from mom? And my body was pretty stiff, from all that yoga so... introduce a week-long yoga break. And who cares about laundry, let alone bathrooms?!? All this, for a whole week! (Yes, there were tears, on multiple occasions -- mine, and my children's! And maybe even Brian's, but he wasn't here for me to document it.)

A comparison?
Week One = good.
Week Two = bad.

Week One = happy wife tries to offer comfort and cheer to a very over-worked, weary husband.
Week Two = weary, lethargic wife can hardly roll out of bed to face the kids each morning, even stoops to thinking menacing thoughts about the over-worked husband who rolled into bed at 5 a.m. and is STILL asleep as wife gets up at 7:30! (Imagine!!)

Week One = checking things off lists.
Week Two = chucking lists in the trash.

Week One = making plans with friends, enjoying the occasional, necessary "break" (even though I do feel bad Brian couldn't take one, too)
Week Two = wallowing in front of lame-o Netflix movies night after night, willing myself to stay awake just that much longer, for no good reason.

The only REAL difference, I hate to admit, was the way I faced what was in front of me. I hate to admit it, because I like to blame my downer days on the fact that it really stinks that Brian has to work so much -- stinks for him, especially, and it stinks for me, too. And I like to think that Week Two was WORSE, because one can only take so much of this and then there's some hidden breaking point and I must have hit it as I started into that second week.

But if I'm totally honest?

I just got short sighted. I stayed up too late, and justified it by telling myself I was doing "necessary" things (that really aren't so necessary after 10 p.m., right?) Then I felt exhausted and short-tempered in dealing with kids, then guilty at the end of the day for what I didn't get done and how poorly I mothered my babies. Then I stayed up late again to "try" to get some stuff done, but ended up just feeling slumpy and watching more movies or sitcoms. Lame.

Of course, I like to blame all that on Brian's job. It's easier that way, isn't it?

But see, then I went to sleep at 9:30 p.m. last night (unprecedented!), slept all the way until 7:30 a.m., and -- like MAGIC -- I am back to Week One attitude! Magic, I tell you. I believe in sleep. I believe in goals. I believe in trying harder to maintain that "half-full" perspective, even though I sometimes think it might go against something in my very nature. So, I'm trying again... starting right now with another early night, and hopefully another productive, happier day tomorrow.

There's my journal entry for the night. And for the record, Brian's job really IS absolutely TERRIBLE -- no matter if the glass is half-full. It's just the truth.

But we're surviving. :)

Back-blogging: Princess Party for our Six-Year-Old!

Guess who turned SIX?!?!

Happy Birthday to our sweet Samantha girl! I was just collecting pictures to write about her birthday, and I realized we haven't taken many pics of just Samantha lately. We'll have to fix that, in the next weeks, eh?

Well, I thought I'd show some pictures of her fun birthday party. She wanted to have a Princess Party this year, like her two other friends from church and school had earlier this fall. Funny, she's never actually had a "friends" birthday party; we were planning to do one when she turned five, but she decided she'd rather just have a family day and go to the Boise Children's Discovery Center. Fair enough.

So, finally, a "friends" party, and finally a princess party. It was low-key, but fun. She invited five girls, but in the end one couldn't come, one got sick... and it turned into a party of three. We played a game of "draw a beautiful princess." They all did a great job and really got into it. But they were mad about Spencer's scribbles (as you can see on the lower right corner of their princess poster, below)...

Spencer was promptly banished to his own coloring sheet. (And yes, he's wearing a tutu. I mean, it was a princess party, after all). After they finished their drawings, they coached me on drawing a HUGE princess on the other side of their poster, then we played "pin the crown on the princess." I was the one directing the blindfolded girls with their crowns, so no pics of that game. (And luckily, no pics of my fine artsy princess, who had "too puffy" of hair, they told me.)

Next, was a rousing game of musical chairs, Samantha's absolute favorite. I took a few vids...

Then, my most creative idea was to let them decorate Samantha's cake. I'm telling you, that was a hit!! They felt soooo privileged and excited to be able to put their own flourishes into the decorating... and eat some of the candies as they went.

They were very intent and serious about their work...

And the end result. Too much is NEVER enough!!

This is weird, but I was really worried the cake decorating idea was going to "go south" so I bought pink snowball cakes, and for some reason put her candles on the snowballs. Funny, eh? They didn't even eat the snowballs, but they LOVED the red velvet cake.

I know I took a little video of the "happy birthday" song, but it must have gotten erased, I guess. Darn. It was really cute. Imagine little girlies, all wanting to blow together.

And the presents... She got some really fun, sweet gifts from her friends, and from grandmas and grandpas, and Dad and Mom. This wasn't the whole stash, but it shows a few of her goodies, anyway...

To open the presents, we played this game called, um... "guess who said happy birthday while you're in this big box." Can you figure how that one worked? Well, yep... Samantha climbed in the box, we all danced around it singing Happy Birthday, while we spun the box in a circle. Then I pointed to one of the kids and they disguised their voice and said, "Happy Birthday!" When she guessed who said it, she got to open the present they brought. She loved it.

Then after it was over, we let each of the party goers have a go in the box. We sang "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" to them, instead. Then someone said, "Merry Christmas!" and they had to guess who. I'm so creative, eh? ha!

Then we played Twister (one of her gifts), ate more cake and ice cream and special raspberry soda punch drink, and the girls went home. When her daddy came home a little bit later, we have a little more cake, to celebrate with him. And now... she's six!! We sure do love our Samantha girl.

Replaced??

I didn't come to bed fast enough last night... looks like Brian found a new roommate?

Ha ha ha!! That's the big bear I bought for Brian (and really for the kids) for Christmas. Funny, huh? Just had to share. :)

Back Blogging: Empire State Building

I know this is old material, but it's gotta make the blog because, c'mon -- it's the Empire State Building. Very cool, I promise. The evening after Thanksgiving (it wasn't THAT long ago, was it??), we decided to take the kids into the city to see some of the Christmas lights and go up to the top of the Empire State Building. 

They love the train, even Natalie, so we headed down to Grand Central, then walked over to Bryant Park, where they set up a huge ice-skating rink, lots of holiday lights and decorations, and a whole village of shops, just for the holiday season. It was really pretty, unfortunately I didn't get a picture. 

But I did get a picture of Minnie Mouse... 

Not a bad gig, if you ask me... Some lady (or man??) dressed up in a Minnie costume and a Snow White dress, to boot. She waves at the kids, then charges Mom and Dad a couple bucks to take a picture with their little darlings. Not a bad way to make some extra cash, eh? Once I get me a Minnie suit, you'll know where to find me in my free time. 

And on to the big event. Pretty cool, eh? I'm glad Brian thought to take this picture, because really, when you get to the top, it's not like you actually get to SEE what the Empire State Building looks like. Especially at night, eh? Our kids were super enthused (read with sarcasm), after the not-so-long-but-not-so-short serpentine line to the elevators...

And then, finally, the views...

Worth the wait, even though it was cold and windy, and dark. New York just looks really good at night, I think...

Looking "up" at the rest of the tower -- turns out they don't really take you ALL the way to the top, but it sure feels high enough, to me...

And down again. In the lobby, they had these really cool Christmasy displays -- not sure if they're there year-round, or just for the holidays? But they were really pretty.

The kids especially liked this one, because the entire "city" is made of candy -- like a giant gingerbread house. Awesome!! (I love Spencer's "smile" here... and Samantha's, come to think of it. Okay, and mine's a little forced, too. ha! But really, we were loving it!)

Brian was smart enough to take a picture of this cool display, highlighting all the "tallest" buildings in the world at the time the Empires State Building was built, and how they all compare...

And he also caught this picture of King Kong...

Seriously, there was a guy dressed in a gorilla costume, standing outside of the elevators on the 66th floor. (They make you change elevators at 66th and ride up another short elevator to the top.) We were standing in line, and we turned around and --WHOAH! Freaky and funny. He didn't say anything, but he looked pretty imposing. Luckily Spencer didn't see him. (He gets really freaked out about "costumes" -- among other things.)

And a few pics of the kids at the top. Natalie looks like she's crying right? Well, I think she was actually just smiling really big. I don't remember her being too upset by the whole adventure....

Spencer on the other hand...

Remember back at the first when I posted a picture of Minnie and me and the kids? Umm... I think that was Spencer's best moment. After that, he just wanted to go home. Part of it was that we mentioned Bryant Park (which is actually just a "square" in the middle of town), and he thought we were taking them to a playground. Oops. 

Another reason for his not-so-happy attitude was that he was sick, but we didn't know it. Poor guy! He was wiped out on the way home, on the train. And by the time we got him into bed, he was running a fever of 103F. We took him to the doctor after a slow, miserable weekend, and found out he had bronchitis, bordering on pneumonia. Not good. 

So, I guess he had a good reason to be a little sad for our outing. The worst of it is that he STILL isn't all the way recovered... He's been congested in one form or another ever since then. I just got him on another course of antibiotics for a double ear infection. We're hoping he makes a full recovery soon -- he's supposed to have a little minor surgery in a couple of weeks here (Jan 23). Prayers for a better boy, eh?




Anyway, that's our story of going to the top of the Empire State Building. Memorable? yes. Enjoyable? sort of. Advisable with three kids at night? ummm... I'm glad we went. Check it off the NY list, eh?

Back blogging: First teeth

Can't believe we're already to the "loose tooth" stage of our kiddos. But it had to happen sometime, eh? So, here she is, our Samantha girl, on November 14, just one month before her sixth birthday... sporting a nice little hole on her bottom row.

 She was sooo excited to lose a tooth, finally. She wiggled it around in her mouth for several days, twisting it back and forth, etc. I tried to pull it one night, before bed time. But it was kind of making me sick, so I told her just to go to bed and it would probably come out the next day.

It did. At school. At lunch, in fact. And... I think she must have swallowed it. She said she was wiggling it around when she was in line for lunch. But then she was eating and noticed it was gone! She looked all around by her lunch bag and on the floor. The lunch monitor even came over and had the custodian stop sweeping so a few teachers could help her look.

No luck. Poor thing. She was pretty sad about it. But then, her teacher helped her write a little note to the Tooth Fairy, explaining the situation. Both she and Mrs. Winter signed it, and Mrs. Winter showed it to me when I came to pick Samantha up from school. (btw -- she ONLY wants to be called Samantha at school, or at church or "any time we're out or people are at our house, Mom." Guess Sammie's a little kid name, now.) So anyway, the Tooth Fairy was very understanding, and took the note instead of the tooth, and left Samantha $3, for all her trouble of losing her first tooth -- and REALLY LOSING it!!

Not to be outdone by her sister, Natalie FINALLY cut her first two teeth a week later, at almost 14 months! Whew! We were starting to wonder if she'd be toothless forever, little cutie. (Actually, my mom tells me I didn't cut a single tooth until 14 months, either, so I guess that was in her genes, turns out!)

 I have tried getting a picture of her tiny, darling little teeth (she cut two at once, yay!)... but she's not very cooperative yet. So instead you just get cute Natalie... tah dah!

Christmas Past

Six years ago.
Pre-blogging time for me.
My first moments of motherhood. Tonight I want to share...

For some reason, I feel like I've been visited by the Ghost of Christmas Past this year. All through the season, I've found myself thinking and reflecting on the Christmas season the year Samantha was born. What sweet, overpowering memories I have of that amazing, new experience of welcoming our first baby into our life. Actually, I may be oversimplifying things when I say it that way. I recall some very tender, wonderful memories with that tiny new baby, but I also look at these pictures, and remember how completely, utterly exhausted and overwhelmed I was!

Samantha was born 11 days before Christmas. Her original due date was December 24th -- Christmas Eve. I was sooo worried I would have a Christmas baby. But nope. Ten days early, on December 14th... I woke up and knew my water was leaking. But I kept my dental appointment (nice to have clean teeth to deliver that baby, right?), then took the Tube over to the hospital. On that last stop before the hospital, I was sitting down when I felt my waters break. What to do? I just stayed seated, hoped no one would notice, then quietly excused myself and left a wet seat. (So gross, I know. But I certainly wasn't up for making an announcement. so...) I walked myself to the hospital, checked myself in, and got some lunch first thing. I wasn't making much progress on my own, so by mid-afternoon I opted for an epidural and some cintocen -- as they call it over there (pit). Brian packed up his stuff from work, went home and got my stuff for me, and came to be with me. He watched a movie while we waited, until I made him turn it off. Ha!

Samantha was born at 10:20 p.m. It was the most beautiful moment of my life. We had decided to have a "surprise" baby, so I didn't even know if she was a boy or girl. And I didn't care. Not one bit. In fact, it didn't even occur to me to ask, as I saw that little baby on my stomach. I was surprised to hear Brian whisper, softly, "It's a girl." Other than his soft whisper, the room was so quiet and still. Samantha didn't cry. At all. She just laid there, looking all around at us. Her hair was bright red, and her lips were, too... so pretty. So tiny. So perfect. The doctor kept telling us she was a really pretty baby, and that her head was perfectly shaped -- like a cesarean section baby.

Wow. What sweet memories of our first baby. First feedings.First baths. First long, endless, sleepless nights. I remember, the night before Christmas Eve, Samantha gave me the best present -- she slept for nearly six hours, in the middle of the night! I felt soooo refreshed on Christmas Eve day. I even insisted we go shopping, so we could buy a little Christmas dress for our baby to wear to church the next day. (We hadn't bought anything in advance, not knowing if she was a girl or boy, remember?) Ah yes, Christmas was a Sunday that year -- maybe that's why I'm having all these memories again? This is the first year since then that we've had another Christmas on Sunday.

I finally found a perfect little pink dress that was probably going to drown our newborn, but I didn't care. I was proud of it. We went home, and this darling, unpredictable newborn did not sleep. At all.
All.
Night.
Long.
Oh what a Christmas Eve we had, Samantha and I. Brian's brother, Reed, was living with us at the time, and I was so afraid my crying baby was waking him and/or Brian... I went downstairs to the couch, turned on the Christmas lights and a Christmas CD. For hours, I held my little Samantha, and cuddled her, rocked her, nursed her, etc... hours and hours. I remember feeling so exhausted, yet loving the feeling of holding my baby with only the Christmas lights and music. I loved thinking it was Christmas Eve, and here I was with my tiny little baby -- yes, a little like Mary, I thought.

Samantha loved looking at the lights on the tree, loved Amy Grant's Christmas carols, loved nursing me sore, loved being rocked at an extremely awkward angle right in front of my body perpendicular to me... all this she loved. But she didn't love sleeping.

In my journal, I think I recorded that she only slept about 1 1/2 hours total between 11 p.m. and 8 a.m. -- only sleeping in 20-minute intervals. Which meant I didn't really sleep AT ALL. Finally, at 8 o'clock, as the sun was rising, we both drifted off to sleep. We missed church, and I cried and cried all Christmas day. Scott and Alicia called to tell us they were headed to the hospital to have THEIR Christmas baby -- and I slept through the call. Then I cried about that. Then cried about missing my family and spending another Christmas away from home. Then cried about having to nurse again. (ouch!) Mainly, I was just exhausted, I know. But I thought it was crummy trick to have a newborn at Christmas. ha! I kept sniffling, saying, "I hate that it's Christmas and I feel like this!!" Poor Brian and Reed. What to do with a hormonal, sleep-deprived new mother? They mainly left me to myself, and made me delicious soup for Christmas supper.

And, of course, Brian took his turns holding our little angel, as often as he could...

Oh, I look back now and wish I could tell myself to embrace that Christmas Spirit for that day. Remember the sweetness of that tiny, innocent little baby. Let Brian take more turns, like he wanted to. I wish I could tell myself to just savor it all, even though I thought that's what I was doing -- take more pictures, take more moments to look at those tiny red lips and itsy bitsy toes. Let her sleep on my stomach, if that makes her happy. Let her sleep in my bed sometimes, if that makes her Daddy happy. Let Jenny show me how to swaddle her properly -- much earlier than six weeks! Let that nursing consultant come back for a second round even though I stood her up accidentally that first time -- it's her job, after all. Kiss those perfect cheeks even more, and breathe in that new baby smell even more. Write it all down, make more paper memories, because she'll want to hear about them, all.

I loved that Christmas, (even the part where I was crying and sad), because I was finally, for the first Christmas ever, a mother -- what I always wanted to be.

Goodnight, Ghost of Christmas Past. 

And goodnight, tiny newborn Samantha of six years ago... 

Thanks for the memories.