Christmas: Better Late Than Never Edition

I know it is a little late for a Christmas wrap-up post. Here it is, New Year’s Eve, and I haven’t even told you Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays yet. I was so wrapped up in the season this year that I, well, forgot.

Well, that’s not really it. More like I just didn’t get to it. It’s not like I wasn’t thinking of you. I kept up with my friends that live in the computer, and I thought about which stories I would tell and so forth. It’s just that I decided to keep Colin up a little later to snuggle and then to go to bed when Patrick did instead of staying up an extra few hours like usual. I decided to work on projects around the house and read a book. I am constantly drafting letters to you, my friends and readers, but sometimes they just stay drafts in my head because life demands more attention.

Life has been demanding the last few months, requiring a lot of my time and energy. Even when I’m not actively up and doing something, like chasing after my precocious kid or interviewing all over creation or, for heaven’s sake, working, my mind is always working on what’s coming next. Which project will get my time next and what Colin is going to have for dinner and how it would be nice to look at Patrick’s face when we talk. My mind has been a little vortex of crazy lately, which makes it difficult to sit down at my computer and compose a meaningful, coherent letter to you.

So, here is my final offering for 2010. A recap of our holiday, with photographic evidence that I have the cutest kid around.

We visited Patrick’s parents before Christmas, as we typically do because his grandmother’s birthday is Christmas Eve. As she gets older and older, this year was number 96, it becomes ever more important (especially to his mother) that we throw some kind of shindig. Even though Grandmother abjectly refuses any kind of get together on her account, Mother-in-Law always wins. This year was the biggest yet. A surprise party at the lovely retirement center where Grandmother moved this year. Every person who was spawned from her was in attendance. She sat at the head of the table and scowled at all of us for coming, complained that she couldn’t hear anything anyone was saying and didn’t feel well to boot, then proceeded to tell all her friends about the party for the following week. I think it went well.

After visiting with Patrick’s family, we caught up with old friends late into Christmas Eve. We left Kentucky about 11pm, driving home so that we could wake in our own house on Christmas morning. This is my particular insistence, and Patrick knows not to argue on this point. He will lose.

This year was slightly different, as this was our first year to be Santa’s Helpers. Meaning, we had… ahem… some assembly to do.  We fell into bed at 4am.

Running on just a few hours sleep does not usual stop me, and Christmas morning is certainly a time when I have enough energy and excitement to power a small city. So I pranced down the hall a few hours after going to bed to wake Colin to see if Santa had visited our house.

Colin was a little perturbed to be jostled awake, but my excitement must have convinced him that something was up and he should pay attention. We hopped on Patrick enough to rouse him into action/sitting on the couch, and skipped down the hall to the living room.

Colin, rounding the corner and looking at the Christmas spoils:

And the evolution of his reaction.

Excitement:

Adoration:

Then, I tried to get him to look at some of the other things in the room.

Like his stocking, which I knew from being Santa’s Helper, housed these little jewels:

He recovered, eventually, and we made our way to my family’s Christmas morning. It was a pajama party, all except for Patrick and my mother, who are total party poopers and wore normal clothes. Even with that, we had a completely lovely day.

Want to know what Santa brought me for Christmas? He brought me a bona fide grown up kid, one who sleeps in his own BigBoyBed.

I expected there to be a period of adjustment and transition. I expected there to be a ceremonial putting of dolls for a nap in the BigBoyBed before Colin himself would attempt it. As such, I also thought I would have a little more time to procure things like sheets or a bed frame.

But the BigBoyBed was immediately accepted.

And the association between jumping on the bed and the bonking of one’s head was quickly made.

And that was that. I had a Big Boy who sleeps in a BigBoyBed without looking back.

What more could I ask for?

Happy New Year, my friends. May it be full of blessings.