Ah, my friends. It is Christmas Eve. How can that be? Wasn't it just summer? Or Thanksgiving?
I know the holidays can be rough, especially if you are still waiting for your very own Real Live Baby. It is difficult to stand here, on the "other" side, and tell you to be patient, that your miracle is coming. Because that's the worst part of it all. When I was in the depths of infertility despair, it wasn't the waiting that killed me, it was not knowing IF I would ever become a Mommy. I knew only too well that life isn't fair, that people that deserve to be parents sometimes don't ever get to realize that dream. So, I won't tell you to be patient, have faith, or any other platitude. I will oh-so-gently advise you to have patience with yourself, however, and know that you are doing your best. Infertility is rough and it can do a number on your head, heart, and faith in everything you hold dear, so be gentle with yourself.
I did want to share with you a story that will hopefully warm your heart as it did mine. Every year, M and I adopt a family through a local organization. This year, they changed their rules and didn't do a specific family adoption, but we still gave our usual amount in money rather than gifts. Then, last Friday, we heard about a family in need of assistance through our church. The mom is single, there are three young children, and last week, their home was broken into. They are renting and did have renters' insurance, but also a very high deductible and poor coverage once they get to that. As a result, the mom would not have any gifts for her children on Christmas (even their wrapped packages were stolen).
As we had already done our other Christmas donations for the year, we were quite honestly "tapped out." But we looked at the situation and at our finances, and decided that this was something worth taking a bit out of savings for. We shopped for gifts for each of the children, something small for the mom, and then a gift card for groceries to help with Christmas dinner. It wasn't a lot of money that we spent, but we hoped that it would help them to know that complete strangers were caring about them during a hard time.
Yesterday, I went to drop off the presents and was feeling very "bah humbug." It took me a half hour to take what should have been a five minute trip to the drop off location. Will was being kind of grumpy and not interested in a car ride in a car that was barely moving. Holiday drivers on their way to score a last minute deal were cutting me off, honking horns, and giving one-fingered waves to everyone around them. When I finally got to the office of the person I was supposed to meet, I was almost 20 minutes late and frazzled.
I hustled into the building and a lady was there. She saw me, arms filled with Will and packages. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "Let get the elevator for you! Your little boy is soooo cute! I just want to pinch his lil' cheeks!"
She was friendly, offering to help me with the packages, and pressing the button on the elevator for me. Will flirted and she waved and then we went up to the office. The lady I was meeting was very kind and helped me put the packages in the mom's office. Just as I was about to leave, the lady from downstairs walked in. She was the mom of the family we were adopting.
She gave me a big hug, held Will for a minute, and then we talked about the break in and how traumatic it has been for her as a single mom and her young kiddos. We talked about the things that she lost that cannot be replaced, like antique jewelry from her great-grandmother and her wedding ring that she was saving to give her daughter. I told her that I wished we could have done more, but that we hoped what we had done would help a bit. She was very grateful. After another hug, we left, and I saw tears in her eyes.
I got an e-mail from the person who had set it all up. The lady said that we gave her family something that couldn't be wrapped up: We restored her faith in humanity.
It honestly gives me more than it could ever give to someone else when we adopt a family. The pure joy I get shopping for strangers, for children who otherwise wouldn't be getting anything, is immeasurable. The pressure is still on to make sure that they like what I choose, but only because I know it might be their only gift or one of very few. As I wrap the gifts, I feel an extra sense of care as I fold, cut, tape, and mark the labels "from Santa." As I pen those words, I truly know that there is a Santa, or at least the magical illusion of one. The irritation of the traffic today was no match for the feelings of peace that I felt knowing we had brought some Merry to that family's Christmas. That feeling has stayed with me today, and I hope it will in the days to come.
To all of you, I wish you peace, joy, and love this holiday season. Merry Christmas!
Mac & Cheese Spokesbaby
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Easy Freezer Meal
Gah, I promised a food post every week and then morning sickness struck with a vengeance. I am resorting to a lot of freezer meals and M is making a lot of frozen pizzas and getting takeout. Takeout is the bain of our budget existence. Of course, I haven't been doing as much grocery shopping lately, but it doesn't even out. Trust me. I don't even want to think about what we've spent this month on convenience food and Christmas combined. We will really have to tighten up the reins in January. Hopefully, I will feel better then, which will make it easier.
I did want to share this recipe, however. Whenever I make it, I double it and freeze one. It freezes and reheats incredibly well. . . in fact, I think it might taste better when heated the second time. Because it is all pre-cooked, it is just a matter of thawing and reheating (you could even microwave it in a pinch). I usually serve this with a green veggie (even though it already has corn in it) and a salad or fruit. It has been a hit with both M and Will. It isn't my "favorite" meal, but it is filling and economical, and, most importantly, easy.
1 pkg yellow rice
1/2 stick butter or margarine
1 can cream of chicken soup
1/2 c. sour cream
2 cups cooked chicken
1 can whole kernel corn, drained
1 1/2 c. shredded cheddar cheese
1. Prepare rice according to package directions.
2. Add cooked rice with all other ingredients (reserving 1/2 c. shredded cheddar cheese) and stir until well-blended.
3. Pour into 13 x 9 baking dish and top with remaining cheddar cheese.
4. Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes, until bubbly.
If you are going to freeze it, do so before the baking step. The day you want to serve it, just put it in the oven as you are preheating and then add about 20 to 30 minutes to baking time.
* I have used canned chicken before and it works well.
** I usually use frozen corn.
*** I have used shredded monteray jack cheese or a blend of cheddar.
Enjoy!
I did want to share this recipe, however. Whenever I make it, I double it and freeze one. It freezes and reheats incredibly well. . . in fact, I think it might taste better when heated the second time. Because it is all pre-cooked, it is just a matter of thawing and reheating (you could even microwave it in a pinch). I usually serve this with a green veggie (even though it already has corn in it) and a salad or fruit. It has been a hit with both M and Will. It isn't my "favorite" meal, but it is filling and economical, and, most importantly, easy.
Cheesy Chicken and Corn Bake
(this is a single recipe, I usually double)
1 pkg yellow rice
1/2 stick butter or margarine
1 can cream of chicken soup
1/2 c. sour cream
2 cups cooked chicken
1 can whole kernel corn, drained
1 1/2 c. shredded cheddar cheese
1. Prepare rice according to package directions.
2. Add cooked rice with all other ingredients (reserving 1/2 c. shredded cheddar cheese) and stir until well-blended.
3. Pour into 13 x 9 baking dish and top with remaining cheddar cheese.
4. Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes, until bubbly.
If you are going to freeze it, do so before the baking step. The day you want to serve it, just put it in the oven as you are preheating and then add about 20 to 30 minutes to baking time.
* I have used canned chicken before and it works well.
** I usually use frozen corn.
*** I have used shredded monteray jack cheese or a blend of cheddar.
Enjoy!
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Which Came First?
I read a post by R&R about how her marriage was affected by parenthood. If you haven't read it yet, I encourage you to click over. It's a good one, because it is written very well, but also because it encompasses so much of what marriages go through when two become three. . . or more.
No one really talks about the reality of this transition. Oh, I am sure there are books about it, but really, women should just be more open with other women. Then again, it might just be one of those things you have to experience for yourself to completely understand. Just as the fertiles of the world tried to tell me how exhausting having a newborn would be, I really didn't "get it" until I got it.
I remember when I was about three months pregnant with Will and my mom did try to warn me. She told me that my husband would become a lazy arse, I would hate him, and he would resent the baby. I pretty much laughed in her face and and told her that would certainly not be the case. Not my husband, the man who would run all over town looking for the "right" kind of lemonade for his queasy, pregnant wife. Not my husband, the man who was such a good Daddy to our furbabies. Not my husband who went to every. freakin'. doctor appointment without fail. She just said, "You'll see. . ."
Now, to be fair, my husband did not become a lazy arse, but it sure did feel that way sometimes. Not all of the time, mind you, but on weekends, when he considered himself "off" for 48 hours, but I was still on fulltime infant duty, I would look at him and think "What the heck?"
When Will's diaper was poopy for the 4,325,945th time and I asked him to do it and he said, "No." As if No is an option? I guess for him, it is. Not for me. Can't let the baby sit in his own feces and he sure isn't going to change it himself.
When all of the laundry, dishes, vacuuming, scrubbing toilets, scouring floors, etc., became my "jobs" now that I wasn't working outside of the home, but he would lay on the couch during Will's nap time? Yeah, I guess I felt as if he was being pretty darn lazy then.
Whew, getting a little fired up here. That is not the purpose of this post, but I wanted to give some examples. Now, please don't misunderstand me here, my husband is a good man. He gets up every single day, goes to his job, which he works hard at and is very, very good at, he brings home a good living, and he also manages our household budget, which is another very big responsibility. But it did seem that when Will came into our lives, a lot changed for me, but not as much for him. And while it seemed my workload increased exponentially, his seemed to stay about the same.
In talking with other newer moms, I see a definite pattern. Husbands defer the bulk of childcare to the wives. This seems to be the case regardless of whether the mom works outside of the home or in it. On weekends, husbands might eagerly play with their off-spring, but when it comes to the dirty jobs, they gladly hand it all over to their wives. Now, if this is not the case for you, I am really happy for you (really, no sarcasm intended or meant), but doing informal polling a lot of my friends and reading blogs, this seems to be the general case.
I have talked to my husband about this, and he does not see this to be true. He thinks that I "prefer" to do all of the heavy lifting when it comes to Will, that he thinks that he cannot do it as well as Mommy can. I feel badly, because if he thinks that, it must be that I have conveyed that. If I am honest, I definitely know there was a time or two (or twenty million) when he wasn't doing it the "right" (my) way and I stepped in and took over.
To show both sides here, an event that clearly illustrates this is the day that my husband was feeding Will lunch while I was doing some dishes. He turned to me and asked me if he could feed Will some more green beans. I automatically answered, "Yes."
Then I stopped and thought. This man is this child's father. He shouldn't have to ask if he can feed him something. . . especially something as innocous as green beans, but really anything for that matter. I never turn to M and say, "Can I do X?" when referring to anything in his day-to-day care. I might ask his opinion on some larger issue, such as discipline or whether to enroll him in a certain activity, but honestly, I probably already have my mind made up there, too, and would only change it if M had serious reservations. Why does M feel the need to ask my permission to do something so. . . simple? It is pretty clear to me, folks, that I was steam rolling my poor husband and being controlling when it came to taking care of my child. No wonder he hesitates to step in and help.
So, in the spirit of being completely honest, is this the classic "chicken vs. egg" scenario? Are men the ones that are lazy or do women take over? Since I find this repeating in so many households, I have to say that it can't just be me. I see it happen with all of my friends as they grow their families. So many have told me that when they add another baby to the mix, their husbands really step up and become more involved. I wonder if that's because the wives don't have the time and energy to take over as much and have to start letting go.
In addition to shifting roles and responsibities, becoming parents adds an entirely new dimension to the relationship. This dimension is both wonderful and unsettling all at once. Some of my favorite moments in my marriage have been watching my husband with our son. M is responsible for putting Will to bed everynight, and sometimes, I stand on the other side of the closed door and my heart just melts as I listen to him talk to Will.
The other side of the coin, however, is that there have also been times when M has let me down as a husband since we've had a baby. I'm not exempt here, either. Will definitely took first place for me for a long time, especially in the newborn days. Our marriage took a backseat while I was adjusting to mommyhood and while I know M "understood," it was something that we both had to get used to.
There is much to say on this topic, but I know that there is probably a lot that you can add about your experiences shifting from a couple to a family. What do you think has been the hardest part? The easiest? The lowest point? The highest?
No one really talks about the reality of this transition. Oh, I am sure there are books about it, but really, women should just be more open with other women. Then again, it might just be one of those things you have to experience for yourself to completely understand. Just as the fertiles of the world tried to tell me how exhausting having a newborn would be, I really didn't "get it" until I got it.
I remember when I was about three months pregnant with Will and my mom did try to warn me. She told me that my husband would become a lazy arse, I would hate him, and he would resent the baby. I pretty much laughed in her face and and told her that would certainly not be the case. Not my husband, the man who would run all over town looking for the "right" kind of lemonade for his queasy, pregnant wife. Not my husband, the man who was such a good Daddy to our furbabies. Not my husband who went to every. freakin'. doctor appointment without fail. She just said, "You'll see. . ."
Now, to be fair, my husband did not become a lazy arse, but it sure did feel that way sometimes. Not all of the time, mind you, but on weekends, when he considered himself "off" for 48 hours, but I was still on fulltime infant duty, I would look at him and think "What the heck?"
When Will's diaper was poopy for the 4,325,945th time and I asked him to do it and he said, "No." As if No is an option? I guess for him, it is. Not for me. Can't let the baby sit in his own feces and he sure isn't going to change it himself.
When all of the laundry, dishes, vacuuming, scrubbing toilets, scouring floors, etc., became my "jobs" now that I wasn't working outside of the home, but he would lay on the couch during Will's nap time? Yeah, I guess I felt as if he was being pretty darn lazy then.
Whew, getting a little fired up here. That is not the purpose of this post, but I wanted to give some examples. Now, please don't misunderstand me here, my husband is a good man. He gets up every single day, goes to his job, which he works hard at and is very, very good at, he brings home a good living, and he also manages our household budget, which is another very big responsibility. But it did seem that when Will came into our lives, a lot changed for me, but not as much for him. And while it seemed my workload increased exponentially, his seemed to stay about the same.
In talking with other newer moms, I see a definite pattern. Husbands defer the bulk of childcare to the wives. This seems to be the case regardless of whether the mom works outside of the home or in it. On weekends, husbands might eagerly play with their off-spring, but when it comes to the dirty jobs, they gladly hand it all over to their wives. Now, if this is not the case for you, I am really happy for you (really, no sarcasm intended or meant), but doing informal polling a lot of my friends and reading blogs, this seems to be the general case.
I have talked to my husband about this, and he does not see this to be true. He thinks that I "prefer" to do all of the heavy lifting when it comes to Will, that he thinks that he cannot do it as well as Mommy can. I feel badly, because if he thinks that, it must be that I have conveyed that. If I am honest, I definitely know there was a time or two (or twenty million) when he wasn't doing it the "right" (my) way and I stepped in and took over.
To show both sides here, an event that clearly illustrates this is the day that my husband was feeding Will lunch while I was doing some dishes. He turned to me and asked me if he could feed Will some more green beans. I automatically answered, "Yes."
Then I stopped and thought. This man is this child's father. He shouldn't have to ask if he can feed him something. . . especially something as innocous as green beans, but really anything for that matter. I never turn to M and say, "Can I do X?" when referring to anything in his day-to-day care. I might ask his opinion on some larger issue, such as discipline or whether to enroll him in a certain activity, but honestly, I probably already have my mind made up there, too, and would only change it if M had serious reservations. Why does M feel the need to ask my permission to do something so. . . simple? It is pretty clear to me, folks, that I was steam rolling my poor husband and being controlling when it came to taking care of my child. No wonder he hesitates to step in and help.
So, in the spirit of being completely honest, is this the classic "chicken vs. egg" scenario? Are men the ones that are lazy or do women take over? Since I find this repeating in so many households, I have to say that it can't just be me. I see it happen with all of my friends as they grow their families. So many have told me that when they add another baby to the mix, their husbands really step up and become more involved. I wonder if that's because the wives don't have the time and energy to take over as much and have to start letting go.
In addition to shifting roles and responsibities, becoming parents adds an entirely new dimension to the relationship. This dimension is both wonderful and unsettling all at once. Some of my favorite moments in my marriage have been watching my husband with our son. M is responsible for putting Will to bed everynight, and sometimes, I stand on the other side of the closed door and my heart just melts as I listen to him talk to Will.
The other side of the coin, however, is that there have also been times when M has let me down as a husband since we've had a baby. I'm not exempt here, either. Will definitely took first place for me for a long time, especially in the newborn days. Our marriage took a backseat while I was adjusting to mommyhood and while I know M "understood," it was something that we both had to get used to.
There is much to say on this topic, but I know that there is probably a lot that you can add about your experiences shifting from a couple to a family. What do you think has been the hardest part? The easiest? The lowest point? The highest?
Monday, December 21, 2009
The Cat Is Out of the Bag
There were so many reasons not to tell my husband's family about "Project As If" this weekend. Lots of good, solid reasons that we had discussed ad nauseum over the course of the past few weeks. Those reasons were reinforced by last week's spotting.
Somehow, in the hour drive between our house and my mother-in-law's, we decided to go against all logic and reason and to tell the family. This had a lot to do with me being really sick and not wanting to have to hide it. It's so much effort to sit at a table with food all around me and my MIL is a "feeder," so it would have been an extra chore. Will was also feeling under the weather, so the combination was a killer on Saturday morning. Plus, it all boiled down to one essential element: M wanted to tell his family. I don't blame him. We had never gotten to tell his family before. With all of our other pregnancies, they didn't ever know about them. We only told them about Gummy Bear after the pregnancy was over. With Will, they knew we were doing IVF, so although they were thrilled, it was hardly a surprise. So, this was his chance to have his "Hallmark" moment with his family.
We dressed Will in a Big Brother t-shirt. We let him walk around, waiting for their reactions. M's aunt noticed right away and her eyes widened in surprise and went to my waistline. I nodded confirmation, then put my finger to my lips, urging her to let my MIL and M's grandma find out on their own. My MIL was a few minutes behind in noticing the shirt and what it said, and even when she did read it, she still wasn't sure. She looked at me in confusion. I nodded and told her that on or about July 26, Will is going to be a big brother. She whooped and gave me a big hug. M's grandma still didn't get it. M's aunt and mother were hugging me and him, crying and laughing, and finally, M said, "Read Will's shirt, Grandma." She still didn't get it, until M told her, "Katie is pregnant."
Well, she got it then and was pretty excited! They all were. It was a pretty neat moment. I feel like we deserve another "As If" moment.
That being said. . .
I am nervous. Nervous that we told them. Nervous that we dared to do something like this. Who are we to think that we could actually have this baby in July? I have this weird feeling about it, as if we are inviting them into our happiness, but also perhaps inviting them in to share our pain. We only told them about our losses after they had happened. Although his family was sad, I think it's hard to get as upset about something you know is never going to be. To never have the hope and excitement is tough, but it also means less pain. We have saved them that in the past. This time, I hope we have not done damage.
Somehow, in the hour drive between our house and my mother-in-law's, we decided to go against all logic and reason and to tell the family. This had a lot to do with me being really sick and not wanting to have to hide it. It's so much effort to sit at a table with food all around me and my MIL is a "feeder," so it would have been an extra chore. Will was also feeling under the weather, so the combination was a killer on Saturday morning. Plus, it all boiled down to one essential element: M wanted to tell his family. I don't blame him. We had never gotten to tell his family before. With all of our other pregnancies, they didn't ever know about them. We only told them about Gummy Bear after the pregnancy was over. With Will, they knew we were doing IVF, so although they were thrilled, it was hardly a surprise. So, this was his chance to have his "Hallmark" moment with his family.
We dressed Will in a Big Brother t-shirt. We let him walk around, waiting for their reactions. M's aunt noticed right away and her eyes widened in surprise and went to my waistline. I nodded confirmation, then put my finger to my lips, urging her to let my MIL and M's grandma find out on their own. My MIL was a few minutes behind in noticing the shirt and what it said, and even when she did read it, she still wasn't sure. She looked at me in confusion. I nodded and told her that on or about July 26, Will is going to be a big brother. She whooped and gave me a big hug. M's grandma still didn't get it. M's aunt and mother were hugging me and him, crying and laughing, and finally, M said, "Read Will's shirt, Grandma." She still didn't get it, until M told her, "Katie is pregnant."
Well, she got it then and was pretty excited! They all were. It was a pretty neat moment. I feel like we deserve another "As If" moment.
That being said. . .
I am nervous. Nervous that we told them. Nervous that we dared to do something like this. Who are we to think that we could actually have this baby in July? I have this weird feeling about it, as if we are inviting them into our happiness, but also perhaps inviting them in to share our pain. We only told them about our losses after they had happened. Although his family was sad, I think it's hard to get as upset about something you know is never going to be. To never have the hope and excitement is tough, but it also means less pain. We have saved them that in the past. This time, I hope we have not done damage.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Friday Night Leftovers
Okay, so this is my first time doing this. I like the idea, because I don't have enough energy for a full post on each of these topics, yet they are rolling around in my head. Here, for your reading and commenting, pleasure:
1) I am kind of "done" with Christmas right now. Not done with the true meaning of Christmas, not done with the parts that I enjoy, like spending time with family and friends, but I am done with the over-commercialized, getting ready part. I am so over the mall, frustrated with the busier-than-usual supermarket, irritated by petty family drama as we prepare to gather together, and plain old grumpy about the last minute gifts that somehow keep getting added to my list after I think I am "all done." I am a little bah-humbug over the fact that all of this "to do" takes away from the meaning and enjoyment of the season. I know it's up to me to control that, but sometimes it's difficult.
2) I had my first public vomiting episode with this pregnancy today. I threw up at the Children's Museum. In a plastic fireman's hat. I rinsed the hat out and turned it into the front desk with a brief explanation and apology. The lady laughed at me. The other moms around me when I actually vomited were not as amused. Is it my fault that the only bathrooms in the entire place are on the basement level of a three story building?
3) It's going to be very difficult for me to keep my pregnancy under wraps this weekend. What with said vomiting very much an issue. We are going to be at my in-laws for 48 hours. Wish me luck.
4) Will has been so well-behaved this week. Seriously. Last week, he was all toddlerish (definitely not a word, but should be) and I was wanting to pull my hair out. This week, his behavior has bordered on angelic. We ran errands every single day; long, boring errands. I was smart enough to sprinkle fun things such as a play session at the mall playarea, a special snack from the food court, and a quick trip to the Children's Museum (see above) liberally throughout our shopping trips. Still, his behavior was admirable. I had no fewer than a dozen compliments on my well-behaved child over the course of the week. It always makes me puff up with parental pride when he gets those positive remarks. Granted, if they could have seen him hit me last week when I took a fork away from him, their impressions of his behavior might have been just a bit different!
5) Speaking of hitting and such adverse behavior, what do you lovely people do out there with your toddlers when they are being naughty? For tantrums, I just let him cry (so long as it's safe) and ignore him. So far, it seems to be working, but he's young and his "tantrums" are still relatively mild. For hitting and such, however, obviously ignoring it is not an option. I think timeouts are probably appropriate at this age, but how to you actually do a timeout? Do you place them in their cribs (effective at containing, but I am not sure I want to give his crib a negative connotation)? Do you bust out the pack n play (again, do I want that association when it's tough enough to get him to sleep in that thing when we travel)? Or do you put your kiddos in a corner or on some sort of special timeout mat? Do you keep them there yourselves? How long do you keep them there (I've heard a minute for each year)? Do you talk to them while they are in timeout (some of my friends use the timeout to explain to them why they are in timeout in the first place)? Do you ignore them (an equal number of friends do this)? Enquiring minds want to know! Currently, I do a "guided" timeout with Will, where I sit him down facing me, make eye contact and tell him that he made a "bad decision" and then make him sit for about a minute. I am not sure it's that effective, so please lend me your discipline strategies.
Wow, this was fun! You, too, can join the fun! Go see Danifred and find out more!
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Drunken Santa
That's right, I said Drunken Santa.
Two weeks ago, we visited my MIL and she was dying to take Will to see Santa. We were unprepared for this impromptu Santa trip, so he was dressed in play clothes, rather than the usual finery I would prefer. I was also not dressed for the occasion, having only decided last minute to join M and Will on their trip, and not even wearing makeup. But I figured, what the hey, we need to get a Santa picture this year and it will make my MIL happy.
We are used to pretty fancy-dancy Santas here in our area. It's usually a rather professional set up, complete with a digital viewing of your pictures and printouts and CD ready to take on the spot. Well, this was in the basement of an oldie-but-goodie kids toy store, and it was less-than-professional.
First off, you couldn't see the pictures before ordering them. And I am positive it was not a good picture. I was in it, Will was crying, and well, I just have no hope for the pictures. But I also feel badly when you take up someone's time and then not buy the pictures. They had no CDs available, couldn't take credit cards (we barely had enough cash), and didn't give receipts. It's been two weeks (we were supposed to get the pictures within a week) and we haven't heard a thing. I figure we just made a nice donation to their fund. Tis the season, right?
But the part that, shall we say, reeked of unprofessionalism? Santa himself.
The jolly old man was decidedly jolly, all right, and reeked of the liquor that had put him in such good. . . uh, spirits. The good news is that he didn't seem to mind Will's reluctance to sit on his lap and even eagerly invited me to sit on his knee. The bad news? He told Will that he would bring him coal for Christmas since he'd been a naughty boy. Coal?! Naughty boy?! Now, I know he probably didn't understand a word, but what kind of Santa tells a kid that he is naughty and is getting coal? And, for the record, although he didn't want to sit on Santa's lap by himself, he wasn't naughty and actually waved goodbye to Santa when it was all done and told him "tank you."
Fortunately, we have the picture from yesterday to make up for it! I present to you our Christmas 2009 Santa Picture. . . pay no attention to the knee behind the curtain!
Merry Christmas, everyone!
Two weeks ago, we visited my MIL and she was dying to take Will to see Santa. We were unprepared for this impromptu Santa trip, so he was dressed in play clothes, rather than the usual finery I would prefer. I was also not dressed for the occasion, having only decided last minute to join M and Will on their trip, and not even wearing makeup. But I figured, what the hey, we need to get a Santa picture this year and it will make my MIL happy.
We are used to pretty fancy-dancy Santas here in our area. It's usually a rather professional set up, complete with a digital viewing of your pictures and printouts and CD ready to take on the spot. Well, this was in the basement of an oldie-but-goodie kids toy store, and it was less-than-professional.
First off, you couldn't see the pictures before ordering them. And I am positive it was not a good picture. I was in it, Will was crying, and well, I just have no hope for the pictures. But I also feel badly when you take up someone's time and then not buy the pictures. They had no CDs available, couldn't take credit cards (we barely had enough cash), and didn't give receipts. It's been two weeks (we were supposed to get the pictures within a week) and we haven't heard a thing. I figure we just made a nice donation to their fund. Tis the season, right?
But the part that, shall we say, reeked of unprofessionalism? Santa himself.
The jolly old man was decidedly jolly, all right, and reeked of the liquor that had put him in such good. . . uh, spirits. The good news is that he didn't seem to mind Will's reluctance to sit on his lap and even eagerly invited me to sit on his knee. The bad news? He told Will that he would bring him coal for Christmas since he'd been a naughty boy. Coal?! Naughty boy?! Now, I know he probably didn't understand a word, but what kind of Santa tells a kid that he is naughty and is getting coal? And, for the record, although he didn't want to sit on Santa's lap by himself, he wasn't naughty and actually waved goodbye to Santa when it was all done and told him "tank you."
Fortunately, we have the picture from yesterday to make up for it! I present to you our Christmas 2009 Santa Picture. . . pay no attention to the knee behind the curtain!
Merry Christmas, everyone!
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Santa and Noodles
Not much to update. Sludge seems to be gone. My OB remains unconcerned. At this point, there will be no exam, blood tests, or ultrasounds. I suppose I could have pushed it more, but they seem "okay" with everything and it would have been difficult for M to get off of work. I certainly didn't want to go alone, so there you have it. Thank you for checking in and waiting with me. These next few weeks will hopefully go by quickly and it will be time for our next ultrasound before we know it.
I had a "good" day of morning sickness today, which means that lunch actually stayed down. Of course, that makes me nervous, but I do remember that from my pregnancy with Will. There are just days that are better than others, and I have to learn to enjoy and take advantage of them. This was the first meal I had kept down in a long time.
I took Will to see Santa today. It was a surprisingly pleasant experience. I had thought that it would involve a lot of crying on his part, but they actually had a little stool for me to sit on, so Will could sit "next" to Santa. I was out of the picture (well, you can see my knee under him in the picture) and it looks as if he is sitting on the arm of the chair with Santa leaning in. As a result of this system (and the help of an inventive photographer and an Elmo doll), Will is actually smiling in his Santa picture. The only weird thing about it is that they didn't give you the CD right there of the picture. You have to e-mail for it and wait 24 hours. As I am already kind of "waiting til the last" on this one, I was a little disappointed, but our cards just might be New Year's cards this year. Oh, well, I doubt anyone's holiday is hinging on our card arriving in the mail!
You also have to purchase at least one print (which they do right there) to get the image and, of course, they charge a lot for the one picture, but. . . well, I think it's worth it. You only get one chance per year at this and I know we'll treasure this one in the years to come. I already have the picture framed and on display. It's pretty cute.
When we got home, Will was very hungry. This is where the footage from the above macaroni and cheesepalooza came from. He must have decided that this was the faster way to eat! Who needs a fork? That's my boy!
I had a "good" day of morning sickness today, which means that lunch actually stayed down. Of course, that makes me nervous, but I do remember that from my pregnancy with Will. There are just days that are better than others, and I have to learn to enjoy and take advantage of them. This was the first meal I had kept down in a long time.
I took Will to see Santa today. It was a surprisingly pleasant experience. I had thought that it would involve a lot of crying on his part, but they actually had a little stool for me to sit on, so Will could sit "next" to Santa. I was out of the picture (well, you can see my knee under him in the picture) and it looks as if he is sitting on the arm of the chair with Santa leaning in. As a result of this system (and the help of an inventive photographer and an Elmo doll), Will is actually smiling in his Santa picture. The only weird thing about it is that they didn't give you the CD right there of the picture. You have to e-mail for it and wait 24 hours. As I am already kind of "waiting til the last" on this one, I was a little disappointed, but our cards just might be New Year's cards this year. Oh, well, I doubt anyone's holiday is hinging on our card arriving in the mail!
You also have to purchase at least one print (which they do right there) to get the image and, of course, they charge a lot for the one picture, but. . . well, I think it's worth it. You only get one chance per year at this and I know we'll treasure this one in the years to come. I already have the picture framed and on display. It's pretty cute.
When we got home, Will was very hungry. This is where the footage from the above macaroni and cheesepalooza came from. He must have decided that this was the faster way to eat! Who needs a fork? That's my boy!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)