I love this time of year. I love the smell of the pine needles from the tree sellers as we walk down NYC streets. I love when homes in our suburban neighborhood become lit with glistening Christmas trees and twinkling outdoor lights trim the edges of the roofs. Big blow-up snowmen stand in the large front yards and colorful wreaths don the front doors. Holiday music is played round the clock on the radio, in stores and at cocktail gathering at our friends’ homes. Christmas sweaters, red velvet dresses and candy cane socks are pulled from closets and worn to school. Kids talk about letters to Santa they are writing, cookies they are baking to leave beside the fire place where he will fall and stockings they are hanging for him to stuff. It’s exciting. It feels special.
Monthly Archives: November 2009
Laughter. Full on, no holds barred, tears streaming down my face type laughter. To me, there’s really nothing better. When this happens to me, not a sound comes out of my mouth. My body shakes, my face turns bright red and it’s very contagious. Hannah loves when I laugh like this. She laughs right along with me but stares at me with probably as much confusion as happiness. I think she’s not exactly sure if I’m laughing or crying. If she should be wiping my tears away or wishing for more. This laughter occurred a few weeks ago when she watched this funny video of our family and again yesterday morning when she started tickling me (at 37 I still laugh like a 4 year old when I’m tickled – as long as you know the right spots).
Today I am Wiped. Out. Sunday, after hosting 25 friends and family in our home, I was tired. But today, after what I experienced… I am wiped. Today I became a grandma. Yes, that’s right. Today I spent the afternoon at the American Girl store in Manhattan and became the proud grandmother to Hannah’s new daughter Holly. Mind you, Holly isn’t coming home as an infant. No, she’s a long haired, chicly dressed little girl. (Wouldn’t we all love to skip right over the colic, sleepless nights and feeding around the clock?). But she is Hannah’s new daughter. Most likely, her new obsession.
I’m sitting here on the couch, warm laptop in my lap, fingers on the keys, pondering the topic for the post I’m committed to writing tonight. For the past hour I’ve been reading some of my favorite blogs, commenting on them, answering emails and giggling at some tweets I came across. Then Hannah (who has been sitting next to me watching her pre-bedtime-routine television) turned to me and said, “mommy, why can’t we remove our nose from our face?”. I looked at her with I’m sure an exasperated look and asked her if she was serious. “Yes, mommy.”
It’s here again. Superficial Saturday (well now it’s Sunday but pretend I actually finished this last night). And I’m thrilled because I’m tired and cranky and need to let off a little steam. What better way than to talk about fluffy nonsense? This will be a short one (thank god after yesterday’s overdone, overwritten, run on, rambling post! But hey, I was lost in the moment!).
Christmas sweater. They’ll get a serious eye roll from me if they do. The bow tie is a little over the top too… it’s a barbeque for godsakes… t-shirts will do. And if someone does feel the need to wear a Christmas sweater before Thanksgiving, I really hope it won’t be this tight. Form fitted Christmas sweater with bow tie is a Really. Bad. Look. in my fashion book.
Bedtime routine at our house is not for the weak. Until recently the normal routine consisted of 6 books (and we’re talking substantial Dr. Seuss length books) and 2 stories. When this routine was conceived, the “stories” were the usual suspects: we rotated between Three Little Pigs, Goldilocks and the 3 bears, Hanzel and Gretel, and Little Red Riding Hood. But then, not surprisingly, after at least a year of hearing them repeated nightly, Hannah tired of them.
Last week Luke got his flu shot at the doctor’s office. He DETESTS the doctor and has ever since he was only weeks old. I’m sure he was scarred by his visits to the emergency room (two tumbles down the stairs at 8 and 10 months old) and his two night stay at only 8 weeks (high fever). But now, he starts crying as soon as we pull into the doctor’s parking lot. He cries the whole time we wait in the waiting room running to the door of the office shouting “Boe Pah!! Boe Pah!!” (that’s “open” for those of you who don’t speak Luke). He refuses to let go of me to be weighed, forcing the inevitable of my having to stand on the scale holding him and subtracting my weight to get to his (thanks Luke). He pleads with me with those ENORMOUS eyes to Get. Him. Out.
Last week I was chatting with one of the other moms at Hannah’s school. She was venting to me about how nervous she was to be leaving her kids with a babysitter that night. I asked her if it was her first time leaving them with this sitter and she said it was the first time she had left them with ANY sitter. I paused as I comprehended what that meant. And then I asked her, “Is this the FIRST time in 4 and a half years that you’ve gone out without your kids?”.
I love my husband. I do. Really. If you’ve been reading my blog you recall we met 13 years ago and have been married for 8 and I have (pretty much) nothing but good things to say about him. But, I have to admit, there are some days, some moments when he does something and I do a double take. I probably cock my head to the side and squint at him as I think, “Now, THAT, what you did right there, was NOT in the brochure.”