I am really kicking myself for not updating my blog more consistently over the past six weeks but man, newborns and Christmas do not mix even if they do provide some great photo ops:
Oh, and because having a newborn six weeks before Christmas is not crazy enough for us here at Shenanigans Inc., there was a new job for Mr. Level-Headed (hallelujah for paychecks and medical benefits!); yet another, and completely unexpected, flare-up for Baby Girl (grrrrrr . . . oh how I HATE colitis!); and an ice storm, which knocked out our power for forty-eight hours. Seriously, I wonder what life would be like with just a little less excitement. By noon on Christmas Eve, after spending about thirty hours in the cold and dark, with still far too much to do for Christmas looming before me and no means of being able to get it all done, I stood crying over the kitchen sink and thought for the first time in the six weeks since we have had Leif:
Maybe I really cannot do this.
Just then, my kids walked into the kitchen, and I felt ashamed of my momentary display of weakness, but I had had enough. I was done. Elliot hugged me and assured me that everything was going to be alright. Then Baby Girl started barking out orders (she is so much like her mama!):
Mom, we are going to Nanny's. Boys, start packing everything up.
And they did. Within an hour, we were warm and cosy at Nanny's house, and I was sent to the spare bedroom for a much-needed nap with Leif. When I woke up, I felt much better. My optimism and energy had returned, and we were able to enjoy a wonderful Christmas surrounded by family and friends.
Last year, after a picture-perfect Christmas filled with homemade goodies and handmade gifts, I sat in my living room surrounded by nothing but the Christmas tree lights and the stillness of a late December evening. In spite of how beautiful and magical our Christmas had been, my heart hurt. With tears in my eyes, I quietly pleaded with Heavenly Father for this to be the last Christmas I had to spend without my baby, my Thing 4. For some unknown reason, that prayer, at that time, was answered, and so this Christmas, as crazy, as overwhelming, and as disorganised as it was, I tried to cherish every moment of it. I tried to keep it all in perspective and remember what a blessing it truly was.
THERE . . . we are all caught up, and now we can focus on how precious this little monkey is.
Tubby Time with Leif
If you have not had the pleasure of spending a good chunk of time with my little man, you may be shocked to learn that he is one royal, fuss mudget. He grunts, groans, whines and fusses all day long. This now infamous picture of him at Costco, pretty much sums up Leif's persona:
The Crank Meister
But there is one time of day when Leif is in his element, when he is happy and carefree, and that is tubby time!
In the tub, he practises his feats of strength and kicks up a ruckus. He splashes and squeals. This morning he discovered that if he squirmed down enough to put his feet up against the end of the tub, he could arch his back and push himself up out of the water. What a kid! I think my dad may be right: Leif's fussiness is simply a display of his frustration over the limitations of his six week old body. All he wants to do is run and play with his big brothers, and I guess the tub is where he can train his body to do just that.
Don't worry, Leif. I fear it won't be too long now.
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