Concrete Blond

It’s still January, so documenting a few Christmas vacation highlights doesn’t seem that out of place.  No, I didn’t make any new year’s resolutions about timely blogging.  Should I?  Hmmm, don’t answer that.

* On Christmas Eve, we put out our cookies and chocolate milk for Santa.  I was told by a certain 3-year-old expert that Santa LooOooOooves chocolate milk.  Then, after bedtime, I looked at all the presents that still needed wrapped.  Santa’s elf protested.  I finally realized why Grandma and Granddad have devolved to decades-long recycling of gift bags (with the previous receiver’s name crossed out and yours scribbled above it).  For the first time, I almost empathized with why they wrap gifts in garbage bags with stick-on bows.  Almost.

* Also on Christmas Eve, JJ and Daddy were watching Santa’s trip via NORAD.  When Grandma and Granddad called to talk on the phone and asked what we were doing, Jakey exclaimed, “Santa’s in Bolivia!”  This uncommon phrase was somehow misunderstood over the telephone waves.

* Christmas morning was magical.  It was so exciting.  Santa came!  And he ate our cookies!  And drank all of our chocolate milk!

* On Christmas morning, a book for Baby Devon was under our tree.  The corner was ripped into before I intervened with our illiterate housemates.  Collateral damage.

* That afternoon we went up to the farm and had a wonderful second Christmas.  The boys gobbled up their dinners.

* We spent 2 nights and a stunning day and a half in Yosemite.  Perfect snow.  Perfect sunshine.  And the perfect winter “cabin.”  Sledding was a hit.  Unfortunately, the snow wasn’t sticky enough to build a snowman.  And Nate wouldn’t walk in his snow boots.  I remember Jake doing the exact same thing, that is, standing as though his feet were set in concrete, reaching his hands toward me and sobbing.  Jacob did finally get over the trauma that year.  Not Nate.  It probably didn’t help that these hand-me-down boots are a size too small (this child’s hands and feet are not to scale).  The trauma necessitated sledding with his “nah-nah” (Nate’s word for pacifier).  After carrying the 30 pound doll baby uphill through knee high snow several times, I quit.  Toddler sledding should be the next big trend in fad workouts.

* The cabin was well-stocked with Disney movies, on VHS.  We watched 101 Dalmatians and Lilo and Stitch.  We ate bacon and It’s It’s (not in the same sitting).

* It felt like Nate was “no’ing” us incessantly.  Turns out no is also “snow.”  And “nose.”

* Haven’t heard Nathaniel say “Santa” yet.  Instead he prefers to chuckle, “Oh Ho HO.”  He thinks this is especially amusing if he’s in the bathtub and swipes some bubbles across his chin.

* Uncle B and Auntie T got engaged!

* We came home through Merced and had a wonderful third Christmas.  By this point Jakey was like an addict looking for a fix.  All he could think about was where he was going to get his next present.  It seems Christmas goes from nonchalance to obsession from the ages of 2 to 3.

* Oh, and on Christmas Eve when I kissed JJ goodnight, he made me promise that if I heard the reindeer land on our roof I’d wake him up.  I did in fact hear a thump as I was dozing off.  But I could hardly open my eyes, I was so tired from stuffing presents into garbage bags and sticking on bows…

Nate in his “no” boots.