Did The Baby Jesus Grow Up To Be Santa Claus???

Today we took Madeline to The North Pole (A.K.A. the mall) to see Santa Claus!  I love Santa almost as much as I love the Baby Jesus.  Seriously, I was so excited to bring Madeline to see Santa that I felt it necessary to invite my parents to witness the grand event.  (They busied themselves by taking pictures of us visiting with Santa from the upper level of the mall.) 

Sadly, we arrived at Santa's styrofoam palace just in time to see them close the gates.  It was like the scene in The Wizard of Oz where Dorothy finally reaches The Emerald City only to have the door slammed in her face by the guard with the weird hair and unfortunate eyebrows.  Luckily, we were informed that Santa would be back in thirty minutes.  

First in line...naturally.

While we waited, Eric and I theorized about what Santa does on his break.  Was he drinking a cup of vodka coffee?  Was he "visiting" with Mrs. Claus?  Was he calling the North Pole to make sure the elves were doing their work?  Does he have a nanny cam on the elves?  (By the way, we were wondering, are the elves Santa's slaves?  Or are there elf unions?) Was he visiting all the other malls in the world in that thirty minutes just like he can visit every child in the world in just one night?  We'll never know.  

Finally, our wondering was put to an end when the man himself could be heard coming down the hall complete with mall-cop escort.  (Paul Blart, Mall Cop was filmed at this particular mall...we're, like, basically famous.)  Santa came down the escalator ringing sleigh bells, waving to the children, and "Ho-Ho-Ho"-ing.  I felt like I was witnessing the arrival of Paul McCartney.  I was so excited to see him that I found myself yelling, "Hoo-ray! Santa's here! Hi, Santa!"  My arm was stretched way up above my head waving enthusiastically when I looked around and realized I was the only person who seemed to be excited to see Santa.  Not even the children in line seemed that excited to see Santa.  My hand froze, mid nerdy wave, and I quickly pretended that I was only trying to fix my hair.   

Hoo-ray! It's Santa, and he has my baby!

Which led me to realize that seeing Santa at the mall has become an exercise strictly for the parents.  The kids didn't seem to care about Santa that much.  Why should they?  They probably see him at every mall, Walmart, and liquor store twenty times between Halloween and Christmas. Still, there the children were, dressed in their matching holiday outfits, hair perfectly combed, ready to smile prettily for the camera all so mum and dad could shell out thirty bucks for a few precious pictures to put on the fireplace mantle on Christmas Day.  

Speaking of weird hair and unfortunate eyebrows...(And I don't mean Maddie.)

Madeline certainly didn't care about seeing Santa.  She was more interested in the twinkly lights surrounding her than the strange bearded fellow holding her.  At least she didn't cry.  Her mumma, on the other hand, was obviously very excited.  I can't wait to go back next year!  And if Madeline ever has a little brother or sister, I will dress them in matching outfits...complete with patent leather shoes.  

What a good girl! 

Shedding Tears for The Baby Jesus

People have been giving me a hard time ever since I mentioned that the Baby Jesus has been making me cry lately, so I thought I'd explain some more.

First, I shouldn't say "cry."  Cry is too strong a word.  I scrunch my face up as if I'm going to cry, but no actual tears are shed.  I guess that's getting choked up?

Secondly, not all cheesy Christmas songs make me  cry  get all choked up.  I change the station every time that Christmas Shoes song comes on because really, songs that have no other purpose than trying to make people cry on Christmas piss me off.  It's trying way too hard.  Seriously, the little boy wants to buy his dying mom a new pair of shoes so her feet won't be cold in heaven?  Why don't you just hit me in the face with a frying pan instead?  It'd be much quicker and easier than listening to that song.  Besides, if you want me to cry, the song has to talk about the Baby Jesus.

Now that I have a baby, I fully appreciate what a miracle babies are.  Whether or not the Baby Jesus was the savior of mankind is something everyone has to decide for themselves, but regardless, it's nice to put your faith in the miracle of the birth of a completely innocent mini-human.

So really, it comes down to just two songs that really get me choked up:  Do You Hear What I Hear and The Little Drummer Boy.

My love for The Little Drummer Boy worries me because I feel like I'm turning into Angela from The Office, but I just can't help myself.  The poor little drummer boy  has nothing to give the Baby Jesus except for a song on his drum.  The line, "I played my best for Him, pa rum pum pum pum," is the point where I lose it.  The little drummer boy puts everything he's got into banging that damn drum because all he has is the gift of music.  And then?  The Baby Jesus smiles!   Bwahhh....tears....sniff, sniff.  (Although Eric pointed out the other day that infants don't smile on purpose which ruined it for me a bit...until I countered with the point that this isn't just any ordinary infant; It's the BABY JESUS, Eric...he can smile if he wants to.)  How can you not love the little drummer boy in that song?

Do You Hear What I Hear makes me choke up because it blows my mind that all of Christianity starts with a story about an innocent baby.  The part with the voice as deep as the sea talking to the little lamb give me goose bumps.  Why?  Well, even though I've never been a particularly religious person, every time I hear that I think, "Whoa, what if this all actually happened!?  What if a sweet little baby was sent to earth to save mankind?!  What if a voice spoke to a little lamb?!"  Then my mind gets blown.  (I swear I don't smoke pot....why would you need to if you think like me, I mean, really.)

But the part that really gets me is the part about the baby bringing us goodness and light.  Babies are so nice and soft and lovable and innocent...of course they bring us goodness and light.  My baby brought me goodness and light. (She also brought loads of sleepless nights and dirty diapers...but mostly goodness and light.)

Furthermore, the most played version of this song is the one by Whitney Houston, which then makes me think about how she ruined her career with drugs and Bobby Brown, and it makes me cry even harder.  Why Whitney?  Why!?  We sang The Greatest Love of All at my honor society induction in middle school!  How could you let me down this way?  Look to The Baby Jesus, Whitney.

I suppose following the same reasoning, I should also cry at Silent Night, but they don't play that on the radio very often for some reason.  Sometimes I also get choked up by O Holy Night.  That's my favorite Christmas song, but not because of The Baby Jesus; it's just a pretty song.

This looks like the Baby Jesus we had in our Nativity set growing up.  Except I used to play dolls with the figurines and make the three angels date The Three Wise Men...which probably means I'm going to Hell.  

12 Weeks

Madeline is twelve weeks old today!  Three months...a whole quarter of a year already.  Also, it's time for a new bunny picture.  Hoo-ray!  It was hard getting a good picture of the Maddie Bear this time because she's so wiggly these days!

Maddie has been continuing to amaze us with all the new tricks she's learning.  She loves to sit up on our laps so she can look around.  She's getting better at figuring out how to use her hands.  She can get them into her mouth more often now.  The past few days she's discovered her feet.   Yesterday, she stared at them for about half an hour before finally grabbing her toes.  We were very excited for her.

She's very smiley these days.  It's awesome when she looks straight into your eyes and starts smiling and "laughing."  (It's not a real laugh yet; it's more just like sucking in air.)  She continues to try out new noises.

Her activity mat has suddenly become much more interesting to her.  She can see all the toys now.  She looks at them and wiggles her arms and legs around as if she's trying to hit them.  She's grabbed on to one of the hanging rings a few times, but not on purpose.  I still give her credit though.

She loves bath time and her changing table.  She hates tummy time and getting dressed.

We're still battling The Sleep Monster every night.  I give her a bath, read to her, feed her, and she sacks out.  She stays asleep for about twenty minutes before she starts crying.  The only way to get her to stop crying is to pick her up and bounce her.  Not rock her, not sway with her....bounce her.  And we can't bounce her while sitting.  We can't bounce her on our knees.  Nope, you have to be standing in just the right way.  After about twenty minutes of bouncing, she falls asleep on my shoulder.  Then I move her back to her bed.  Sometimes she wakes up and starts screaming as soon as she touches the mattress.  Sometimes she takes another short catnap.  Either way, she wakes up again and the cycle repeats.  It repeats for about six hours.  Finally, she gets so tired that when you put her down for the last time, she starts softly crying in short spurts until she gives up and surrenders to sleep.

On the bright side, once she does finally go to sleep, she sleeps for a long time.  I should probably wake her up earlier in the morning, but the two or three hours I get to myself before she wakes up are really nice.  I'm not sure if I can bring myself to do it.

P.S.  We did not win the holiday card challenge, but thank you for voting.  It was a fun contest.

The Not So Glamourous Life of Dizzy The Cat

Poor Dizzy.  Remember when Eric and I used to creepily dote on our cat as if he was our child?  Well, now that we have an actual child, Dizzy's life has changed drastically.

First, we wouldn't let him go in the baby's crib.  Then, we started locking him out of our bedroom at night because he keeps trying to stalk Madeline whenever her arms start flailing about.  (I know it's instinct Dizzy, but you CAN NOT eat my daughter!)

We used to cuddle with the cat on the couch a lot, but now there's usually a baby in our laps instead.  And just when Dizzy gets comfortable and settles down for a long winter's snooze, Madeline starts crying.  You should see the dirty looks the cat shoots her when that happens.  No wonder he wants to eat her.

Slowly, one by one, all of the cat's old hiding places are being disturbed by the baby.  And this week, we took over his shower.

Since we have two bathrooms, we very rarely use the shower in the guest bathroom.  Therefore, it became Dizzy's.  What would a little cat want with a shower you ask?  Obviously, he liked to sing in it.  He'd go behind the curtain and start wailing at the top of his little cat lungs.  I think he liked the echoing sound it made.  It provided hours of amusement for us and any guests who were lucky enough to hear Dizzy singing in the shower  

Dizzy has not sung in the shower since we brought Maddie home from the hospital.  I can only assume it's because he's feeling depressed and has nothing left to sing about.

Now, Madeline has taken over his shower too because we've started giving her baths in it.  You should have seen the look of hurt and betrayal on his little cat face when he realized what was happening.  I think his little cat heart died a little.

Poor Dizzy.  It's so tough being a little cat.

P.S.  Please vote for Madeline's Card (#4, "Our Little Baby") by following this link.  Thanks and hugs!

At least Madeline was having a good time!

Adventures in Baby Wearing

 On Saturday we took Madeline on yet another baby-wearing adventure.  This time we took a long walk around Walden Pond because we were trying to live deliberately...complete with Dunkin Donuts coffee and our cellular devices. (Ha, nerdy English teacher alert!)   The air was crisp and cold, but it was warm in the sun.  Madeline was bundled up like the kid from A Christmas Story, and again, she slept on me the entire time.

Let me tell you, walking on uneven ground for an hour with a thirteen-ish-pound mini human attached to you is hard work.  Especially when I haven't done much in the way of serious exercise in the past year because I was busy being pregnant and lazy.  I certainly earned my meatloaf last night.

I can't wait to bring Maddie to Walden next summer.  I can bring her to the beach and go swimming with her. In a few years, the pond will be a nice safe place to bring her kayaking for the first time.  It's a good place for a picnic too.  Eeek, fun times!

 P.S.  Please don't forget to vote for Madeline by following this link.  We're card #4, "Our Little Baby."  Thank you!  Kisses!

Vote for Maddie!

Our holiday card made the final round over at the Paper Mama's Holiday Card Challenge! Hoo-ray!  Now I need you to help us out by voting for our card.

Follow this link and vote for Madeline.  Our card is number 4. "Our Little Baby."  You are only allowed to vote once.  The voting ends at 11:59 PM Pacific Time on Monday.

Thanks and much love!
-Summer

Madeline VS. The Sleep Monster

This is The Sleep Monster.

 (Don't worry, he's a friendly monster.)

Last night, The Sleep Monster met Madeline

 Thinking she looked like she needed a nap, he decided to put her to sleep.  

 Madeline did not want a nap. 

They eyed each other suspiciously.  

And so, an epic battle ensued!   

 Madeline fought long and hard;

the battle continued for hours. 

 But The Sleep Monster always wins in the end.  

The battle was over, and Madeline was fast asleep.  

Or was she???

 Till next time Sleep Monster....next time.