Christmas ramblings...and a baby in a snowsuit

I love Christmas week.  I just made one of my final trips to the mall to grab those last minute gifts, a couple of bows, and a final roll of tissue paper.  I love the mall this close to Christmas.  I even love trudging through the slush in the parking lot and watching people pile in booths at Old Chicago.  The busyness, the anticipation, and the dwindling of the mittens on the fireplace mantle tell me that Christmas is comin'...

I'm trying my best to slow down time at my house this week.  Christmas comes and goes so fast every year and as soon as it's by us, my days at home with Cruz are numbered.  Yesterday, I took a nap on the couch with him as the snow fell outside, watched a movie, and read Green Eggs and Ham three times in a row.  By the third time, Sam-I-Am had morphed into a British lad with a ridiculous accent.  Cruz loved it nonetheless.  His attention span isn't very long when it comes to his vast library of books quite yet, but there's something about Dr. Seuss.  Maybe Santa will come through on One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish.  I should let him know that Barnes and Noble has a 'buy two, get one free' sale going on this week...

Christmas feels different this year.  When it comes to Christmas shopping for Beau, I usually have all kinds of ideas for him.  I start early and try and outdo myself with surprises for him every year.  This year, besides a new big screen and a pair of footed pajamas 'just like Cruz's,' he's given me no help with his Christmas list.  And when it comes to my Christmas list, besides a Beaba` babycook, I am far from creative.  We've finally settled for the idea of taking a trip to the mall sometime, and helping each other pick out a new pair of shoes or a coat or something.  Definitely not creative and definitely not surprising.  

This year, presents and perfectly frosted sugar cookies and an immaculate house just don't measure up to the gift we've been given this year.  This tiny little person that's filled our lives with more love than we've ever known.  This year, it's about the little things... 

...like taking a break from wrapping those gifts to watch a baby and daddy connect during Monday Night football.

...or spending fifteen minutes bundling a baby in a snowsuit to spend five minutes outside in the snow.     

It's about the soft touch of a chamois sheet in Cruz's crib, the popcorn on his tree, and the twinkly lights hanging from his window.  It's about the coziness I feel when I lay him in his crib at night, and the excitement I feel when I pick him up in the morning.

It's about an afternoon of play in front of the Christmas tree.  A cute fleece outfit with matching socks, a first reach for a toy, and a smiley baby.



It's about a single glass of Milk Nog and a Christmas pair of pajamas.  New movies in the theatre, Christmas classics on TV, and a family trip to Famous Daves.  It's about dressing Cruz in red for five days straight, going to our first Christmas Eve service as a family, and watching his little eyes get big as we sing Silent Night by candlelight.  It's about a tiny little baby in a manger born thousands of years ago.

It's about the joy, and love, and peace I feel this Christmas week with my little Cruz.  It will be a Christmas I won't ever forget. 
   

Little Boy

I love books.  My mom, however, loves books more than I do.  We grew up surrounded by books.  A vast collection of Golden Books, The Berenstain Bears, and our favorites, The Monster at the End of this Book, The True Story of the Three Little Pigs, and Dr. Suess's, There's a Wocket in my Pocket.  When I grew older, I owned and read every single edition of The Babysitter's Club, and would spend many a nights curled up on the far end of the living room couch, crying my eyes out to another sad ending of a Lurlene McDaniel book.  Lori Wick's, A Place Called Home, will forever be a favorite of mine, and I now love introducing new books to my students at school.  

I hope to instill this same love of books to my kids.  And with the collection of books I have already accumulated for Little J, I have a feeling it won't be a problem.  

This past weekend at my baby shower, my mom added a couple more books to his collection.  A classic, Where the Wild Things Are, and, Little Boy, a book by Alison McGhee.  It wasn't until Sunday morning that I sat down to read this little treasure that I realized what a great gift this was.  Before I knew it, I was sitting in my chair, with tears rolling down my cheeks, so thankful for this little boy in my life.  The sweet little illustrations of a shaggy haired boy in rain boots, the simple words, and the way the author captured the innocence of childhood are so sweet. 

I can't wait to chase a dirty-footed little boy, fill his little sippy cup, and count animal crackers on the couch.  I can't wait to turn a cardboard box into a vast pirate ship, or a house for a toad, or a tower to knock down.  I can't wait for wagon rides, untied shoes, and starship pajamas.  I can't wait for all that is this little boy...

Thanks, Mom, for a sweet book I could read over and over again.  And for all you mommas with little boys out there, this is a must-have. 

Little boy, so much depends on...

your yellow cup,

a serenade to wake you up,

sun that slants the rug,

the wings on that astonishing bug,

and your big cardboard box.