This is the first tree I’ve had, or decorated, which I feel relatively proud of! in fact, this is the first Christmas season for which I feel excited and participatory. I blame my babies for the joie de vivre, Christmas really is so much more fun when you get to experience it through your children….I can’t believe I have 2 of my own. Still. Crazy. Anyway, here’s our big beautiful evergreen all dolled up.
These days, I wake up to a 13lb pork chop, who’s goobery, toothless mouth is wide and smiling, and in the background, a lilting, teensy chant of, “wakey-wakey mommy”, from my 3yr old, the 2nd floor imp. All smooshy baby and toddler glee pile together for our morning snuggle; the baby beaming at the imp, the imp incessantly chattering about nothing and everything. This squish and puff army makes its way downstairs where I routinely shoot espresso to the rising sun and the hind-splash of Sponge Bob jokes. Back to the floor above where the I-must-wear-a-ballgown-in-the-rain daily exchange, and the dress-the-baby-in-jammies-puhlease wars are waged. Later to the floor again above that, to stuff self into still-ill fitting clothes from pre-pregnancy fame. All now contained anatomical pudges descend to that coffee scented level to debate the path out the door and further, into the realm of ‘before lunch’.
A thousand blackberry iphone buzzes gather like a hailstorm while celebratory chimes ring incessantly in my hospitalized ears. For three days I bend and shake inside tent tie-backed clothes to break wicked fever spells on a mechanical moving mattress. In a dream in the early dawn hours, von-Scholtz is holding my newborn daughter up to his face, so proud for her to be born. He kisses her lips and closes his eyes. I see that she has fairest hair and blue eyes. He adores her. This only makes me think I need to invest at least of half of my time to translating her new nuances.