He stands more than sits. He propels himself around furniture while we fret over the sharp corners. He throws himself off of things, onto to things, relishing the newness of it all. He walks more than crawls. He walks. Aside from feeling pretty crappy the last week, our boy is a walker. In days he'll be running. In a flash he'll be jumping, sliding, catching, swimming, making me fret every second of every single solitary day. It's amazing and terrifying and we are so proud of him. All of us, including his biggest fan, big sister Caroline.

peek a boo

Too cute not to post. 

The Magic of Christmas Morning

when you get the one thing you want most in the world

Sickmas Flip

The Night Before Xmas French Toast had been poured, the older one snug in her bed, the stockings were filled and under the tree, and a wee little elf was smiling at me. In my arms was a baby so warm and so sad, my Christmas wish for him to be better just wasn't being heard.

Sickmas Eve

Lo there was sickness. It was an incubus of plague. I heard from other parents that they had it far worse; the narovirus filling their holiday stockings with puke and poop and wouldn't you much prefer coal? I know we were spared far worse, but several days after the incubus of plague we are still getting back to normal.

Connor wasn't himself last Tuesday. I dropped him at school and warned the teachers that something was up. He spent three plus hours sleeping and then wanted to sit in his crib and watch the goings on from behind bars. He spiked a fever that night and spent the next day charming his grandparents down the street for the day while Steve and I tried to finish out the week.

His fever wouldn't go away, he was pulling on his ears, so we booked the last appointment of the night at the pedi; 7:45pm. I'll jog your memory here, it was snowing. The wind was howling. People were in a panic because they hadn't finished their shopping and SNOW!!!! Two baby's firsts that night; baby's first double ear infection and baby's first antibiotic. It was a sleepless night.

Connor was in bed with me by 11:00 and up more than down all the way until 6:00. Steve was off thank god and I somehow pulled myself together to get both Caroline and myself out and to work/school. Connor gave Steve the hardest parenting day of his life. His many texts included, "he won't sleep. I am putting him in his crib for 10 minutes so I can shower." Another terrible night.

A day off that included some family snuggle time in Mommy and Daddy's bed, three of four wearing nothing more than a robe. Mass. Tired Connor won't sleep. Our incubus of plague visits two houses before retiring for the evening, except not really. He was up 8 times in an hour and Mommy was on the brink of braving the Christmas Eve streets to bring him to the ER because the screams were so awful and so pained that I was sure he was missing a finger nail. Eventually I hypothesized that the one thing bringing him peace, the pacifier, was actually bringing not relief but incensing my poor boy who could not breathe through his nose. When I got him to sleep and removed the sacred paci, he slept for longer stretches of about 20 minutes until 7:30. He and I were were so sick we considered not heading West to my parents, but we made it, incubus of plague and all. I'm glad we did, but we spared the extendeds the introduction to the incubus. We're hopeful no one else gets to experience this bronchitis disaster of a mess as a direct result of contact with us.

It's been a trying time. You know that it has been particularly hard when you welcome the snow day not to relax or get things in order, but to get a teeny smidge better before heading back to work. He's fever free for two days and almost through his amoxicillin. I'd give anything to be done with my Mucinex.


I love this ride. I love that I live here. I'm loving my job which takes me through here often. I love that we have family closeby to snuggle our poor feverish Connor. I love that my job is flexible enough for me to get out early for him. En route to a family amid flurries coping with too much for Xmas.

in one week

Christmas will be over. All the gifts will be opened. The kids will be playing with that extra special NEW TOY twinkle in their eyes. The wrapping will be gathered together for trash pickup. We all will have consumed approximately TOO many cookies. The holiday will be over. Hard to believe isn't it??

I tried to show restraint this year with my holiday shopping for the kids, focusing more on needs than wants, but what's Christmas without a little excess? There won't be any stairs to shield Caroline's view from her Christmasmorningpalooza and I wonder if we will be dragging ourselves with closed eyes toward the tree when she opens her bedroom door and realizes that "HE CAME!!" If we thought she got it last year I have no idea what this year will be like because this year - SHE GETS IT. I need to remember to take photos, to take video, to take a moment to sit with my husband and watch her rip through paper and shriek in excitement over everything. I think her father might be pretty excited about what Santa is bringing him too, but we'll have to wait and see.

Hope you're getting through those last minute holiday tasks. I'm trying hard to keep in mind that as hectic as this time of year is, it will be over and gone too quickly. We're over here trying to relish some holiday magic.

Photographic proof

Lap: sat on
Carols: sung
Extra Santa hug: smiled

Date night with daddy

(and uncle marc) bc vs pc

as promised

can't wait to see it on her wedding slideshow in a few decades.

another new tradition

Steve and I took Caroline to Spaghetti with Santa on Wednesday night. We left Connor at home in the capable hands of his grandparents and pushed through the whipping rain storm to eat pasta with the big guy in the red suit. It is a sweet idea that benefits our town's school music program and for $21 plus a few more for the all important Santa photo, raffle tickets, and cookies - it was a festive way to spend an evening with Caroline. We waited in line to get into the pasta portion of the event, only to decide that it would be better to forgo prime seat choice for a photo with Santa right off the bat. We signed in, chose a digital photo that we'll of course post here, and then WHAM, she saw him. She didn't run away, cower or hide her face... until I made the move to put her up on his lap and then she lost it. Poor Santa. I hate making them hold her hostage for the photo, but we did it. I held her hand and told her it would be ok and click click she was done. We ate our pasta, we listened to the student musicians, the chorus, and put in for some sweet raffle prizes.  The all important misery shot will be posted as soon as they forward it. Can't wait to see that one - oy. We're four for four in Santa fails.

She did collect a candy cane when Santa walked the room saying hello to everyone and since he had a treat in his hand, that little run in went surprisingly well. Photographic proof below. Please note the proper wooden spoon for the hoodsie! What happened to those???

looking glass

some highlights:

"Can we go back tomorrow Mommy?"

To which I replied, "well, no, but we can go next year and the year after and every year until you are 100." The Nutcracker was a sweet (har har) success! There was a tiny worry the night before about the Mouse King, but we assured her that he was pretend. She shared this with Granda when he asked her about him, "He's pretend" she told him matter of factly, not showing her fear.

She adored the unique to Boston dancing Bear in the party scene the most. She clapped her hands when everyone else clapped. She looked at me during the snow scene, "those are snowflakes." She pointed and spoke a bit to loud during the party scene, "there's Clara!"

For a girl who grew up dancing all those roles herself in our regional company's production, including Clara I might add (had to), there was something extra magical about taking my daughter to see this show. I glanced at her during the Second Act nestled between Nana and Kiki and I couldn't help the smile that appeared nor the glassy eyes that accompanied it. My little girl, watching the show that made me love dancing. My mother who spent hours of her life she will never get back waiting for me outside the rehearsal studio.

She spent her morning ride to daycare the next morning pouring over the program - "this is the Mouse King" "this is Clara!" and she couldn't wait to show Miss Melissa her t-shirt from Kiki with the Sugar Plum Fairy in a perfect arabesque.

File:Arabesque bio.jpg

It was a beautiful production and for a girl whose been in more performances than she has actually watched as an audience member it was hard not to imagine the costumes, the make up, the jitters, the post performance flowers, the joy that was being a child in The Nutcracker. I'd happily sit outside a rehearsal studio for hours for her to have that same gift.

At the end of the show during the Finale Kiki leaned in to say, "maybe the Mouse King will come back," the reply came quickly with a fierceness to it that is so perfectly Caroline, "No he is NOT!"

I doubt we have a future Mouse King, but perhaps a little polichinelle, or an angel, or even a little Clara. Special thanks to the ladies who were able to spend the afternoon with us enjoying a spectacular show with a special little lady. Let's do it again next year, and the year after and until we are 100.