Time Marches On

… or crawls or walks. At 8 1/2 months, we don’t really sit up yet. While Christmas is in the air, I’m becoming more aware of the gross motor skill differences between Addie and other children her age. In some ways, I consider myself lucky to have a baby who doesn’t move much, yet. I don’t have to chase her around- she stays on her play mat and happily rolls from one toy to the next, but other times I feel sad. I want to wear her on my body. I want to have her sit up and look at me. I don’t want to worry every time she bumps her head that there will be some severe injury. I don’t want to feel the kyphosis in her spine. All good things in time… Sometimes, time takes a long while to come.

It’s Christmas Eve, and as people are tucked away in their beds, I am feeling Addie’s soft spot to check for a buldge. Like I do every night. I wait until she is asleep, then gently feel her head to make sure that there are no signs of hydrocephalus. Then I let her sleep. Just as Santa is making his way down our chimney, I will wake up to make sure Addie’s snoring isn’t getting worse. When the milk has been finished and the cookies all gone, and the big man is on his way to the next house, I will lay back down to pretend to sleep ’til dawn.

I love Christmas, but maybe my love for the season is rivaled with hate for it, in equal parts. I miss my Dad. I hate that we barely put up lights to save on an electric bill we already can’t afford. I wish my whole family could be together and not spread out down the east coast. And I wish I knew what the future held for Addie. There are a million things that can go wrong in life, I just want one wish for Addie’s first Christmas: A lifetime of happiness for my baby girl.

I remember last year at this time:

We were in Florida and I could not wait for Addie to arrive. My handsome nephew, Mark, had been born almost a month prior, and I could not stop snuggling on his little self. I couldn’t even dream of a human so small and fragile. But then, my Addie came.

This face is wise and curious:

She is, as far as I can tell, the reason I am here in this world. But sometimes, I wonder if I am good enough for her. Am I willing to wait for all the good things? Will I show her the right path to take, but let her choose her way? I want so badly to live in the now, but it’s so hard when the past is always nipping at your heels.

My dear baby girl. You are the comfort and joy, the wondrous night, what makes me laugh all the way home where you snuggle into me and keep me warm, you’re my good cheer and you help me live in Heavenly peace. You are my miracle. Christmas, or not.

Happy holidays to all who celebrate. May we never know what God intended for our lives, just that He intended them for us.

The Joy of Family

While home for Thanksgiving, we celebrated my nephew’s first birthday.

My car isn’t this awesome!

It was an amazing party, with the theme of ducks! I know my sister was stressed about it all, but she pulled the event off seamlessly. Going home to see family, as I’ve written, is hard because we don’t see each other often, but knowing the good stock I come from always makes the hard days a little easier.

I get the joy of staying home with Addie. Being a stay-at-home-mom is not something I thought I wanted in life, but the second I saw her, I knew that 8 weeks wouldn’t be enough time for me to part with her for hours at a time. My big sister is VP of a huge advertising firm, has the handsomest little boy, and the perfect (for her) hubby. Her life is full of elegant events, important meetings and weekends poolside. She dedicates herself to her family, and all the work she put into throwing a party in Pennsylvania, and one in Florida (where she lives)- all while traveling for work and maintaining her home- leaves me in total awe.

My favorite of the family pics

My days are spent like my nights- I’m usually hooked up to a pump, or a baby, or running a vacuum, or cleaning up dog puke, using dry shampoo to feel better, or sewing something together and writing about life. I am proud of all that I do. I am glad that I know how to use a sewing machine now (and I have the scars to prove it). I’m glad I stuck with pumping, when Addie decided that nursing was only for sleeping. I am proud of myself for having such a clean home, with a fridge laden with crafts my infant has produced (hand turkey, anyone?) and polished silver on the buffet. I get dinner on the table and most days I remember to eat lunch. I haven’t put on my running shoes in weeks, but I know I will again. When I’m ready. I’d love to have the glamor and the means with which to be a bit more fancy, but being so diverse makes us family.

Mark was so gentle with his little cousin

There are families who remain as such because they are all the same, and families who part ways because they are so different. We are family because we choose to be. We are all different- even the identical twins. I am proud of us, and I am [especially] proud of my three siblings for all they’ve accomplished in the past 6 years. From starting a new life and creating one, to getting good grades and falling in love, to finding a career and living on their on. We are family, and Addie is blessed to be a part of such a tribe as we.

A boy and his dad

HAPPY FIRST BIRTHDAY, MARK and Happy anniversary to my big sister. I am so proud of you- your strength, your beauty and your tenacity to keep hurdling over, and never cowering under, what life throws at you. Life doesn’t just happen… we make it so. Thank you for that lesson.

Giving thanks

In years past, my husband and I have spent our holidays with his family in one way or another, but this year we went to my childhood home to celebrate- not just Thanksgiving, but my nephew’s first birthday (more on that in another post!).

It was a beautiful weekend, even following an 8 hour drive (3 of which consisted of New Jersey Turnpike traffic). I have not seen my nephew in a long time, and his size, strength and teeth were amazing to me! He is such a BOY! His energy, love for my sister (and brother-in-law), curiosity of all things with hinges (see: pinched fingers) and how fast this year has flown all made me thankful for one encompassing person: my Mom.

Ever since I can remember she has welcomed home boyfriends, friends, strangers and their friends to gather at our home and celebrate the holidays. She sets the table for Passover, Easter, Christmas, Thanksgiving and everyone’s birthday. She hosts showers, Democratic meetings and Skype family visits. This season is no different.

As we all celebrated Mark and Addie’s first Thanksgivings, I held on to the flashes of my own youth. Running around in footie pajamas. Falling in and out of sleep while listening to the only person still cleaning this kitchen- Mom, of course. Watching the first round of Christmas movies play on TV and a new tradition (I hope lasts!): Upper Moreland WON the Thanksgiving game!  Addie loved the game so much, she fell asleep.

Football is SO exciting!

There was the attempt at real turkey, as well as the sweet potatoes and cranberry jelly (oh, the sugar!).

First Thanksgiving!

She wore her new dress, and fell fast asleep in her thankful pj’s. I only wish Dave and I had some that said “Thankful for Addie”.

The dress of the season!

I’m thankful for this baby!

For the first time in a couple of years, I brought myself to visit my Dad. As I talked to him, I held Addie close to me. I told him she was little. I told him how much of a sucker he would be for her. I knew he was hugging us right there. I felt him holding her up for me. When I started to sob, Dave held Addie and told her about my Dad and about me. My Mom held me. Crouched down in the cold I waited for my tears to stop. Being a parent is hard.

I put Addie down in the grass, and she was pensive, like she knew she was on sacred ground. Then, she smiled. She had just met two great men: her Granddad and her Uncle Jonathan, both gone before she could meet them in this life. We got into the car, I took a deep breath, checked the rear view mirror for my beautiful girl, and we continued our day.

The hardest part of the holiday was going home.
We got back in at 1am. As I placed my foot on the bottom step of my own home, I expected it to creak, like the one at my parents’. When it didn’t, my heart fell a little.

I hope that someday Addie has memories like mine. Something that reminds her to come home. That home is always home, no matter where you pay your mortgage.