We Got a Virus for Christmas

It happens.
Plans change.

Christmas eve I woke up with Ingram and noticed that his left eye seemed a little goopy. By noon it was nearly matted shut. Off to the pediatrician we went and the day took a sharp turn toward something other than what I had planned.

Oh! My healthy smiles. I want my healthy baby back.

I was already bummed out that we were spending Christmas with out any of our family. We're kind of used to being orphans after so many years of unforgiving schedules filled with call or cell lines that couldn't go unattended for a couple of days; we're skilled at sniffing out other orphans. As such, we had it all lined up to spend a fun afternoon with some new friends. Great food, wine, a craft for the kids, getting to know new people...we were really looking forward to it.




When the pediatrician stepped into the room she asked, "Did you have plans for Christmas?" Notice that? Did you? It was agreed that Ingram and his conjunctivitis couldn't go anywhere near our friends brand new 2 week old baby. It was just too risky. Once again, we were banished to isolation for Christmas. It's just as well. Ada came down with a fever later that night. She still insisted on putting out cookies for Santa and with her hot little head leaning on Tim's shoulder we stepped outside in the lightly falling snow to sprinkle reindeer food on the sidewalk.

Our neighbor Denise helped Ada write a note to Santa. I put it with our outgoing mail but the mail guy didn't take it. I guess he knew better that I should save it. 

As soon as she was tucked away in bed Tim and I did the same thing thousands of other parents were doing on Christmas eve - setting the perfect stage for our children to wake up to. I must admit, it was really lovely. Perfect, even.







When Ada woke the next morning I asked her if she thought Santa had been here. "No. I don't think so. Not yet." I led her down the stairs and watched as her eyes grew big and she gasped. "He was here!" She ran from one thing to the next pointing out to us the woodpecker walker for Ingram and the pulley cart (wagon) for her to share with her brother. It was so fun to watch her. Tim and I exchanged glances that said it all from 'we totally pulled it off' to 'did you hear what she just said?'




It took all morning to open presents.




It's possible that our kids are really loved. And really spoiled.




The rest of the day was low-key. We made tacos for lunch and salmon for dinner because when you're on your own you can do that kind of thing.
We played...

See his sad right eye? Ugh.

and took pictures...

See the tissue on the table? And the cup of tea? Yup.

and read new stories...




and played some more...




and stayed in our jammies pretty much all the day long...




We were alone but not so much. We made phone calls and were on Facetime with Tim's family at least four separate times.

The smiling faces of people we loved joined us from their holiday cards hanging on the wall.

It was nice to spend time in our new place with our new family of four. We had nowhere we had to be. We only had to BE and that was a nice change.




It was only just today that we got out of our jammies and emerged from the house. After many boxes of tissues, the snot-sucker working over time and many sleepless nights for me I'd like to say that we are slowly on the mend. This morning I got my Christmas gift from Tim - he took care of the kids and let me sleep in. Glorious. The best gift ever.




Merry Christmas.

Here's what I love

Want to know what I love?




Look at that. There are four stockings hanging from our mantel. FOUR. That makes me super happy. Given three to pick from, Ada picked the polar bear stocking out for Ingram. I love that his big sister picked out his stocking. I love that we have matching stockings because we are a family.

I have a family. I love that.

Four

Ingram turned four months old the other day. To celebrate I took him to the pediatrician and got him some vaccines because I'm a sentimental mom like that.

He's 16 pounds, 6 ounces (75%), 26.5 inches long (90%) and head circumference is 42 cm (25%). My big little boy!

I came home one day and found him this way. The onesie was a joke/gift but he looked so grown up, especially with the little sneakers. I don't think I can bring myself to put that shirt on him again  because it freaked me out.

He's doing all the things a 4 month old should be doing - turning his head when he hears my voice




bearing weight

In the exersaucer bearing weight and reaching for a singing iguana. He caught on quickly to this. 

grasping objects with both hands




reaching for objects

and bringing them to his mouth and bringing his hands together and into his mouth. He loves to reach down and grab his toes just like the 'happy baby' yoga pose. This move is harder if he is wearing footie jammies - bare sticky baby toes are much better (why are baby toes and hands sticky? They aren't lizards who need to walk on the ceiling or something). He is strong and it's pretty amazing how physically capable is considering that we're tummy time flunkies. I can't imagine why we throw in the towel so easily.

He gets mad about tummy time. 

He drools a lot but no teeth yet. He wants to gnaw on everything including my fingers, forearms and cheeks - lucky, lucky me! It's the pre-amble to the super slobbery open-mouth baby kiss. Don't ask me why but I love it.  He chirps and sings and does the 'pterodactyl' every morning.




He rubs his eyes when he's tired. He wants to cuddle and be held endlessly. He rests his cheek on my shoulder and I reach up to rub the palm of my hand against the velvety, downy hair on his head. He sighs a long sigh and his breathing turns deep and long telling me that he is sound asleep, completely trusting that I will keep him safe all night long. If I try to put a little space between us, he will creep over until his belly and my belly are pressed together for maximum body contact (Ada did the same even when she was swaddled!) We're breaking all the rules but I'm not ready to have my last baby out of the bed with me. The moments like these are just too sweet to let go of so soon, especially knowing that there isn't another baby to offer me these tender, irreplaceable moments again. Every night I think, "just one more night and then I'll move him to his own room," but I know that I'll have the same internal dialogue tomorrow night.




I love this boy.




Ingrams grandma saw a recent picture of him and asked, "where's my little buddy?" He did spend every night sleeping on her chest starting when he was 11 days and the movers took our furniture until he was 3 weeks old and we flew to New York. It's true that the sleepy newborn wonder has been replaced by a boy who is curious and observant. The spindly little newborn chicken legs have been replaced by little chubby chunkers with fat rolls on the way. He is communicative now rather than being purely a sponge for input. Nope, he's not a newborn anymore. He is officially an infant.

Again I came home to find him like this. First of all, he's all buckled in so don't worry. He's not going to fall out. Second, look at how gangster he is! One shoe dangling from his toes and his little hat. Wahahahahahaha!

It's a blessing the second child, and I suppose subsequent children, brings you: a chance to experience them for the first time while reliving this stage with your older child/children. I am in a near-constant state of bliss because he is so sweet all by himself but he also triggers very clear, distinct memories of Ada at his age and it puts me into a state where I am practically manic with love for my kids. Nature must plan it this way to get you through the third year of your childs life - she is sweet, hilarious, smart, defiant, stubborn and slightly insane. She used to be my 4 month old. Where did the time go?

I can't help but think about the similarities and differences between Ingram and Ada. I also think about how different is my experience of them. It's true that I have less time now. That sounds terrible, doesn't it? With Ada, she was pretty much the only thing I had going so it was easy to take a thousand pictures and spend all of my time entertaining her. In some ways I think this boy is short-changed of that and it bums me out. I haven't reinvented the wheel or anything. These thoughts fall into the category of stuff-every-parent-thinks-about.  I'm just  into thinking about how to make sure they both feel loved and fairly treated, a conceptual thing that will probably plague me all of their lives.

Ada pretending to be a baby. As much as she loves her baby brother, he did pretty much just rock her world. 

On the other hand, he has more than just his parents to love him and that must be worth something, right? His big sister is just awesome with him. She is so concerned about him. He gets so excited when he sees her all kicking his legs and smiling and cooing. He knows he's got a good thing in her and it makes her so proud.




Just like I did with Ada when she was this tender age, I wonder what he'll be like when he grows up. Right now he smiles all the time. The other day I heard the first giggle and it was like music to my ears. He is just the happiest baby I've ever know (and Ada was a really happy baby. Now she's a happy little kid).  Like all parents, I'm deeply invested in the preservation of that innocence and happiness for as long as possible. It's a wonder for him but also a tiny daily miracle for me to be with a human being as purely happy as he is. I don't know how a person can be with a happy baby and not be affected by it.



My little buddy. My gram cracker. My microgram. I'm so glad he joined our family.