Christmas In A Nutshell

 She May be sick

 She may be so congested she had to choose between breathing and eating

 But she quite obviously had a fantastic Christmas Despite ❤

The Season of Expectation

I love the holidays, Christmas, and all the merry colors, music, and special traditions saved for this time of year.

However the feeling of tug-of-war between family obligation, illness, and ever mounting debt has cinched it this year, and left me feeling a little less then excited.  It was my daughters first Christmas.

If Pinterest is anything to base life off of, I should have a million and twelve craft projects and picture collages to mark this momentous occasion.  Instead I feel like a horrible parent, and simply take pictures, play with her, and am present.  I should have a wondrous Christmas Tree, instead of this 3 foot only garland decorated iridescent tree.   I should have draped the ceilings in garland to create this wonderful Christmas-land her first memory might contain.  Instead I let her “help” wrap presents, give her her first taste of home made Christmas baking, put on calm Christmas on the TuneIn.  It was far more subdued then I or the internet declarations intended.

What can you give an 11 month old to provide them the feeling of the season?  She still wants to read her favorite peek-a-boo book, she still would rather crawl then walk to her destinations, and she only sees the presents as shiny boxes that she can tap a good beat with her little hands.

Of course, as Murphy’s law would have it, she is sick for Christmas, picking up a nasty cold that is making the rounds in the city, and for a week and a half is a congested, sniffly, snotty, sad little munchkin.  Teething intermittently, and cranky in between bouts of Tylenol, and naps longer then the time she is awake.  Then I get sick.  Just in time for Christmas Eve, just in time to feel rotten and nearly impossible to raise my level of “cheer” as is expected when visiting and having late nights for 4 consecutive days.  With a sick baby.  And a whiny introvert husband.

But I reflect now as my living room is full of new baby toys that has her more then entertained.  Her favorite is the new shoes Grandma got her.  I have things I needed, things I didn’t, things I only would have ever dreamed of having.

I got to see smiles and laughter at the modest gifts I gave, and the elaborate wrapping I did (majority in diaper boxes or the like).

The manic depressive season that this is, with so many highs, and the inevitable low when its over, when expectation is bereft.  The cold quiet that ends the day.  The extra garbage bags.  The winter settling like an uncomfortable chill that it provides.

For me it is the end of the only good thing of winter, and the beginning of cold, cold days ahead, and the hope of Spring.  Likely not for another 4 or 5 months.

I wish I could feel happier.  I wish I could be those moms on Pinterest.

Instead, I keep calling babygirl on the “telephone”, make her sweet potatoes, and continue to rock her to sleep during her naps knowing my time is ticking down.  Less then 2 weeks of the “just us” club we’ve been for nearly a year.

So many tasks, diapers, feedings… I didn’t see the time disappear.  This time last year you were just a kicking, hiccuping, stretching miracle inside me.

Now you’ve just finished all the cheerios and cheese I’ve given you.  Time for veggies.

Restless tonight

I contemplate the bottle of whiskey on the counter.

I’m edgy, I’m restless, my skin crawls, and I can’t sit or stand.

The walls are closing in.

Why can’t I breathe?

The baby cried tonight, woke up with cries that made my heart leap to my throat.

It was a nightmare?

An 8 month old with a nightmare?

My fault?

I reassure her, and hold her to me.

Rocking her, she’s restless too.

As I rock her my mind drifts, I imagine a white light of love surrounding her.

I imagine it surrounding her room.

The floor… the walls… the basement… the yard.

“It’s okay”

I say it for her

For me

She’s asleep now, briefly stirs as I place her back in her crib.

Not wanting to leave her.

I’m careful on those creaky spots in the hall.

Suddenly my vanity and envy seem so small

when a simple touch

and 2 words

can give the most important person to me

Peace.