holyboogers

On the bathroom wall of the family I babysat for back in high school was the following framed phrase:

 ”Contentment is not the fulfillment of what you want, but the realization of what you already have.”

Nothing could ring more true to me on this day, the day after Christmas and a week after Eli’s death.  I sit here on the couch, Ryan next to me watching TV as he’s not feeling entirely well, my husband home from Portugal until the New Year.  He just placed Noah in his swing, but before doing so, I just watched…stared at him holding his son, his “mini-me” as we call him because it’s uncanny how much he resembles his father.  The truest of paternity tests :)   

I didn’t know whether or not I’d have Jay home for Christmas because of preparations to get Eli’s body back to his family here in the States.  I was fortunate enough to have him home later on Tuesday night.  I held him.  I breathed him in.  I cried.  He was home.  He was safe.  Christmas Eve was a rather emotional day for me as I kept thinking about Eli’s family, how they wouldn’t have him home for Christmas.  I would simply look at my husband, at my children, and the tears found their way out of my eyes and down my cheeks.  How is it that I am so incredibly fortunate?

Jay and I both went out on Christmas Eve.  Because he’s been in Portugal he wanted to do a bit of Christmas shopping for us and I had to make a trip to Walmart myself.  He took Ryan and I took Noah.  It was mad.  People were worried about finding the perfect gifts, beating out all others.  Rudeness and irritability shone through.  We met for lunch and as I took Jay’s hand, looked at Ryan and Noah, the madness passed by me in a blur.  I wasn’t thinking of anything else, I wasn’t thinking of anybody else.  This is exactly where I had to be.  And this man and these two beautiful boys were the people I was meant to be with.  My heart settled. 

I ache still for Eli’s family and I don’t believe this particular ache will pass me by.  It has, however, opened my eyes even more to the blessings I have in my life. 

“Contentment is not the fulfillment of what you want, but the realization of what you already have.”

Don’t forget that.

I went to the mall yesterday.  Yeah…that’s right.  I went to the mall with my two small children a few days before Christmas!  Having lost power for a week and staying with my mother, then having a huge snowstorm hit us…(wait…ONE huge snowstorm?  Make that TWO)…I’m sure you can see that I was eager to get out of the house as I was pretty much stuck here the day before.  I love my house, don’t get me wrong, but there are just some days where you’re jumping to go somewhere, anywhere, just to save a little piece of your sanity.  Yesterday was suppose to be a sanity-saving day for me.  Ha!

 We arrived at the mall around 11:00 and I had to drive all the way to the opposite end, away from the entrance, in order to get a parking spot.  That should have been an indication of what was to come, but I suppose I can use the excuse that this is ME I’m talking about.  Whoosh!  What was that that just flew over my head?

I park and then step into the slushy mess of a lot with my sneakers, walk to the trunk and pull out my heavy double stroller.  I pull Ryan from his carseat (I’m building muscles here, I tell you!), place him in the front, and then go around the car to get Noah and his seat.  Boys settled in, I dodge the wind to grab the diaper bag and my purse and say goodbye to the dogs who would hang out in the back of the van for a while.  Here we go.  Swivel, swish, swirl…ever tried to meander your way through the snow and slush with a double stroller weighted down by your toddler in the front seat?  Yeah…not entirely an easy thing to do.  The wind turning my cheeks pink and my paralyzing my chin as it always seem to have a knack of doing, we make it to the front door!  Success!  We walk in, I take Ryan’s coat off, bang my sneakers on the wet floor, and we’re good to go!  Hooray! 

We do a bit of shopping, I let Ryan play in the playarea and on the motorized vehicles, we get some pizza for lunch (”pissa, Momma?”), and by 2:15 I’m beat and we head out the door.  WHOAH!  Holy traffic jam!  I struggle with my double stroller in the snow and slush once again, close my eyes to the cold and wind, and get my boys strapped into their carseats successfully.  We’re off!  I pull out of my parking spot and to the end of the lane.  I’m stuck there for a total of twenty minutes before the line in front of me has moved enough to allow me access to it’s madness.  I suppose we’re not really “off” now, are we?  Thank goodness gracious that Noah is sleeping!  “Momma, I home now?”  “Yes, Ryan, we’re trying to get home now.”  He waits maybe five seconds before “Momma, I home now?”  Oh, and have I mentioned that he’s in a whining phase now?  50 minutes pass.  Noah has woken up and is screaming to the point where I place my hand on his forehead and sweat droplets are left on my fingertips.  Ryan continues to insist that he wants to go home now, and I’ve moved about the length of three cars, TOTAL!  With the knowledge that I’m at the complete opposite end of the mall’s entrance, I decide that the best thing for us to do is go back inside.  But how in the world am I suppose to do this when I’m sandwiched in?  I wrap my sweater around my body and open my door.  What a sight I must have been, strange lady knocking on window after window, hair in her face as the wind flaps it around with extreme force…the first window I walk up to is a young man.  I tell him that I’m going to attempt to get the car in front of him to merge into traffic and would he mind terribly staying where he is instead of moving forward to allow me the opportunity to get my van in a parking spot?  He was so very nice…that’s one down.  I knock on the window of a gentleman in an SUV and ask him if he wouldn’t mind letting this woman’s car in front of him when the traffic actually moved a bit?  I explained that my baby was crying and I was going to attempt to park and go back inside.  He smiled at me…it was a knowing smile :)  Two down for the count.  I now knock on my last window…it’s a woman…I tell her that the gentleman in the traffic jam is going to allow her to pull into traffic and the man behind her is going to stay there so that I may park my car.  She was also very understanding.  I leap back into my van and turn the heat up a notch.  Another ten minutes of waiting and the line moves ever so slowly, but just enough for the woman to creep her way in front of the gentleman’s SUV.  YES!  I move my car toward the right and just barely make it past the young man’s car and into a parking spot.  Back to the drawing board.  I thank everyone, get the double stroller out, place Ryan in it, take a screaming Noah out of the car, say goodbye to the dogs who most definitely need to pee by this time, and slither my way back to the entrance.  Phew!

We go to Best Buy and watch Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer on their big-screen TV.  Ryan’s loving it and Noah, even at just five months, is glued with such full attention to the television screen, that I can just sense that he’ll be like his big brother when he ages a year and I’ll be getting a lot of “movie now?”  I happen to glance at Ryan’s bum and notice a small wet mark.  Please just be water from your boots!  But no…it’s his diaper, and after having changed a diaper just a couple hours ago, I know that Ryan is all out of diapers.  Boogers!  But I do happen to have one of Noah’s gdiapers on hand…here’s to hoping! 

We head to Old Navy where Noah’s “eh eh’s” echo from the stroller.  I pick him up and shop for some clothes for Ryan since, not only did I not pack enough diapers, but I didn’t pack a change of clothes either.  Of course!  After paying for his clothes, we head to the restroom.  YES!  The gdiaper actually fits him!  Thank goodness for that one!  And boy does he look cute, too!  With tons of smiles I put his new pants on, use the restroom myself (the handicapped one, of course, so the stroller fits inside!), and we head back to the mall.  We end up having a dinner of sandwiches, do some more browsing, some more watching of Rudolph and after a couple full-blown Ryan tantrums, I check the traffic.  NONE!  Wahoo…let’s get on that!  Coats on, Noah strapped into his carseat, keys in hand, we head out the door.  I place the boys in the car, say hello to the dogs who would hold their bladders if they could, and pull out.  UGH.  I was wrong.  There is traffic…and a lot of it.  Luckily someone allows me to pull out in front of them and then…what’s this?  Eeek!  They’ve opened up an exit to the street and it’s right HERE!  Five minutes and I’m out of the mall!  Mind you…I have to deal with traffic getting onto the highway, so I’ve got Noah screaming for about 20 minutes before the highway is hit, I speed up, and he falls asleep.  Sigh.  I look in my rear view mirror and Ryan is sleeping as well, mouth closed, chin to his chest.  I smile.  Goodnight, my beautiful children

We eventually make it home and I put the boys to bed.  Exhuasted, I get myself ready for bed as well.  I close my eyes still wondering if I was using my head at all when I made the decision to take the boys to the mall.  After the day I’ve just had, I’m well practiced…ready for anything the next day will throw my way.

I’ve been saying for four months now that it’s time for my husband to come home.  A business trip to Portugal that was suppose to take two months has now turned into four and a half, Christmas is looming before us, and I’m done with the snow.  Friday morning jolted me awake.  A complete and utter reality check, I was left dumbfounded after a truly emotional telephone conversation with Jay.  Holding the phone in my hands, looking down at it as if I couldn’t possibly have just heard the news I did, I wept.  I put Ryan in front of the television and went into another room so he wouldn’t see my shaking body.  I may not have my husband home for Christmas, but it’s not because of work.  It’s because his co-worker and friend was in a car accident over in Portugal where he and Jay have been on business.  Jay will come home to me.  I will hold him and breathe him in.  Eli is coming home in a casket. 

I had to pause my typing because the computer screen was becoming blurry through my tears.  I ache.  I’ve only ever met this man briefly but I’m so affected by these circumstances.  For so many reasons.  He was young.  Only in his 30’s.  He has a wife and two small children, ages two and four, I believe.  Developmentally, children don’t have the capacity to store memories long-term until they are three.  That means that Eli’s daughter wont ever remember him.  She wont have the memory of what it felt like to hug her father, to hear his voice speaking words of warmth.  I ache for my husband who is in Portugal making funeral arrangements to get his friend’s body back to his wife.  For my husband who wants nothing more to be home with his family, with his children.  To hold them in his arms and look into their blue eyes, pulling smiles from within their little bodies that seep onto their faces with a word, a touch.  To be with them.  But most of all, I ache for Eli’s wife.  I ache each and every time I envision the moment she was told that her husband wasn’t coming home alive.  I ache for the realization she must have that her children wont know their father, that he wont be there for kindergarten graduations, for school recitals, for first love.  He wont be there to hold a hand, to wipe a tear away.  He wont be there…

 Jay told me the news of Eli’s passing and after uttering unintelligible words of disbelief, my immediate response to him was “you need to come home!”  I wanted nothing more than to hold him, to take his face in my hands and look into his green eyes.  He’ll be home.  I don’t know whether or not it’ll be before or after Christmas, but the point is…he’ll be home.  If I spend Christmas without him then I know it’s because Jay is overseas doing the only thing he can think of doing at this time for Eli’s family…he’ll be making sure his body returns safely back to the love of his wife and children.

Noah is sleeping right now and Ryan is having his down time.  My house may not be entirely clean, I make look disheveled at times, there’s an enormous list of things that need to get done…I don’t even have our Christmas gifts wrapped yet.  But after my boys have gone to bed and I see this messy house, then I know I was doing exactly what I was meant to do all day long.  I was with them.  If Eli has taught me anything, isn’t this it?  Never will I feel guilt in not getting to place a check next to an insignificant item on my “to do” list.  Because right there on the very top of anyone’s list should be the word “family.”  And with this check marked, I’m doing a damn good job.

Our power went out. An enormous ice storm hit southern NH and left approximately 500,000 people without their heat, hot water, lights. The fly on the wall watching me at 3 am on Friday morning must have been having his hysteria fit as Noah decides to poop, which he never does in the middle of the night. But I heard it. 3 o’clock in the morning. How do I know what time it was if my power was out? I cuddle Noah in my arms and walk through the pitch-black cold hallways of my house, his head nestled to my chest so I won’t accidently bonk him on the wall. I find my way to the kitchen and then feel my way through the drawer that holds our candle lighter. Flick. It’s on. I light a few candles, place Noah on the floor and proceed to undress him. No poop. You have got to be kidding me! I got up for nothing? Apparently he had a big case gas! Go figure. I dress his body back up, cuddle him in my arms once again, and then walk the few steps to where my cell phone had been charging on the countertop. I flip it open and that’s how I learn the time. This is also my light-source for the rest of the night as I find my way back through the hallways to my bedroom and later as I take a cranky Noah to his swing at 5:30 in the morning because I’m eager to do absolutely anything it takes to get a few more minutes of sleep!

Sleep I did…and the light was slowly illuminating my room when I woke for the day. An hour! I’m now in love with the baby swing! Ryan and I get out of bed and I check on Noah who would still be sleeping for another few minutes. Darn is it cold in my house! When Noah wakes I actually wrap him in a snowsuit to keep his body warm. I get breakfast ready (a wholesome meal of Nutrigrain bars because I have no power in my house…ha!) and once Ryan is done eating I decide that I’ve got to get the boys out of the house and into a warmer area. Hey…the power was bound to be back on when we got home from our day out, right? So I pack the diaper bag with a few diapers and I head out the door to the mall. Boy did I underestimate this storm. Roads were blocked with tree branches not only on the ground, but weighted down so heavily with ice that they scratch the top of my car. I’m swearving as if I had a bit too much to drink just to dodge the roadblocks and salvage my wheels. We head to the mall where I thought for sure we’d be all set. I open the trunk to get our double stroller out and ready to accomodate the boys and that’s when I learn that we’ve got a leak in the trunk. The entire stroller was soaked through with water and a puddle lay on the top where it decided to make it’s home. I take it out and shake it off and decide to let Ryan walk and place Noah in the front carrier, all 19 1/2 pounds of him. Ryan was good to go but I end up waking Noah in the process and had a very cranky baby on my hands for the duration of our time in the mall. We walk to the entrance and learn that half the mall has power and the other hald does not. Okay…I can do this. I let Ryan play in the toddler play area and then we walk around the mall. I think we must have been there for a total of an hour, my back aching with the weight of Noah, when there just simply isn’t anything else for us to do. I call a girlfriend and we go to her house for the rest of the afternoon. Thank goodness she has power, and thank goodness too, that she’s such a wonderful woman to take us in for that amount of time!

Now the gravity of our situation hits me as I speak to my friend and speak to others on the phone, listen to the news. Our power was possibly going to be down for days. I call my mother and leave a message on her cell phone to let her know she’d have unanticipated company for the night I hadn’t packed a single thing and was most definitely not ready to spend the night out of our home, but I was already half way to her home and I would much rather go straight there than make the trip back to our house and then all the way to mom’s chancing a screaming baby and a cranky toddler in the car for that amount of time. I’m thinking that was a good decison

We get to mom’s and learn that my sister and her husband are also out of power and would be spending the night as well. This is when we talk about pipes freezing, about all my food going bad, about the 700 plus ounces of breastmilk I have in my deep freezer spoiling. The breastmilk in itself is enough to form a nauseatiing feeling in the pit of my stomach. And for the yummy icing on this most delicious cake is the fact that my husband is still in Portugal.

I suppose the above is all a prelude, an explanation, an excuse of sorts, to what happens next. I do some shopping with my sister and her son the following day. I lose my keys. Ha! But of course, right? Luckily, the keys are soon discovered in a store. Thank goodness for that! I follow her to the mall where she wants her son to see Santa and I agree to go along with the boys. I get Ryan out of the car, walk to the other side, open the door and realize that Noah has fallen asleep. I don’t want to chance waking him up as he’s been uncharacteristically cranky these past couple of days so I tell her I’ll just meet her back at our mother’s house. She moves along. I close Noah’s door, take Ryan by the hand, bump myself on the car and drop something at the same time, and I suppose the elastic ball of stressors that have slowly built up has flung one of it’s pieces off and instead of my exhaling an “oh boogers,” which is what normally comes out of my mouth, I let it out. “Oh, sh**!” And then of course there’s this little man beside me, holding my hand and paying attention to a toy he’s grasping. Eyes are downcast. I don’t even think he’s paying attention. I’m wrong. Almost immediately I hear “Oh, sh**!” My steps pause. I look down at him, but I don’t react. I don’t want him thinking that this is funny or that it’s something that can attract Mommy’s attention so quickly and therefor, definitely something to do again. Instead I wait. And thank goodness, he doesn’t say it again, doesn’t even look up at me. Phew…

The kicker? I’m on my family’s case all the time to watch their mouth around Ryan. He’s at an age now where he catches on to absolutely everything around him. He’ll hear something once and that’s all it takes. We underestimate the abilities of our children day after day, that’s for sure. I’m constantly attempting to substitute a four-letter word spilling out of my mother and my sister’s mouths with an equivalent to one of my “holy boogers” phrases. And with all this prodding, I’m the one that he imitates. One of the very few times I’ve slipped, and he catches on. Hmmm…

Luckily, he hasn’t said this again. My fingers are crossed. I suppose it was bound to happen at some point. Let’s just hope I’m not in the middle of a playdate or in line at the supermarket when he drops a toy and belts out to a quiet room “oh, sh**!” The fly on the wall who thought he had his fix of hysterical moments would realize he had room for one more and would fall to my feet laughing at how my countenance would transform so suddenly and will never again see such a shade of red.

I made dinner one-handed tonight.  Noah was just not having it…so anxious I was to place him in his swing and have him rock back and forth, fist in his mouth, a smile on his face.  But that wasn’t happening.  The only place he wanted to be tonight was in my arms, so there I went…to the kitchen stove to make a simple pasta dinner, stirring spoon in one hand, Noah on the opposite hip, my arm supporting his back.  Dinner made, I ladeled out Ryan’s pasta into his dish, Noah still resting happily on my hip.  Ryan satisfied for the moment, I sat in my chair about to eat my dinner as well when Noah made it mighty clear to me that I wasn’t about to leave him out…no way!  So…I ate dinner one-handed tonight also as I nursed Noah.  What?  Ryan wants more?  Darn!  It’s on the stove.  Drop my fork and lift my body out of my chair, now 19 pounds heavier as Noah is still attatched to my breast.  Man am I a pro at multi-tasking!  Dinner ends and I have absolutely no time to clean up as I’ve got to get the boys up to the bathroom and then to bed. 

Today held a “first.”  I’ve got a mighty big boy :)  19 pounds in a 4-month body…yeah, he’s got some massive baby chunk loaded on.  So much so that he’s outgrowing his infant tub.  If he could sit unassisted, that would be one thing.  I could simply place him in the tub along with Ryan.  But that’s the most ideal situation and we all know that when we’ve got children, you’re jumping day-to-day…you make do with what you’ve got, and you figure out various ways of doing things.  You adjust.  And tonight Noah DID take a bath with his brother.  Yesterday I was at Babies R Us and purchased a bath seat that would help to support Noah in what we call “the big boy tub.”  Holy crap, my baby was in the big boy tub!  Already??  Gone is the infant tub, stored away, perhaps never to be used again.  -sigh-

I fill the tub with water and Ryan hops in.  He’s so intriqued with this new seat in the bath with him and immediately wants to climb all over it.  I tell him that this is Noah’s new tub and that his body is too big for it.  Those aren’t the words he wanted to hear, so instead of climbing inside of it, he takes a chance that I wont scold him for leaning against it with all his might, throwing toys inside of it, and dumping water.  Ahh…the joys :) 

In goes Noah.  Oh my goodness, does he look so big!  He’s sitting in his new chair, back supported well, chunk hanging from chin to toes.  I laugh.  But the moment is unfortunately fleeting because no sooner is Noah in his chair than I have Ryan saying “Noah out my tubby.”  And not just once, mind you.  Over and over again…he’s a broken record for sure.  And when he realizes that I’m not going to take Noah out of “his” tub, he proceeds to join in with the bathing.  But a toddler trying to be helpful can most definitely keep you on the edge, and I was on the literal edge of the bathtub, bathing Noah while attempting to grab the cup filled of water that Ryan continuously tries to dump on Noah’s head.  Man did I whisk Noah out of there rather quickly!

Noah’s clean and I breathe in the scent of his soft skin as I dry him off.  Duuuummmmpppp!  Yeah…that would have been Ryan dumping an entire cup full of bath water out of the tub and onto Noah’s hair.  Yikes!  Moments later he’s sulking in a time-out. 

So Noah’s first bathing experience out of the infant tub didn’t go as smoothly as I would have hoped, but I would still deem it a sucess :)  Two clean and happy children came out of that bathroom, one walking in his blue dog pajama’s and the other on his mommy’s hip, both to be cuddled and put to sleep with love (and man was Mommy anxious to have some time to relax!)  Can’t get any better than that

I suggested a new Thanksgiving tradition to my husband this year and he was happy to oblige me.  A Thanksgiving journal.  Each year, I’d like to sit down with my husband and with my boys and reflect on our year…I’d like for us to reveal one thing that we are individually thankful for in our lives, place perspective on how truly fortunate we are.  Although I’ve done this in the past with family in my youth, never have I written it down.  What an amazing keepsake this will make for my children…to be able to look back upon their very own words when they become men. 

Ryan is only 2 1/2 this year, and Noah is only four months so I wasn’t expecting much when I asked them the words “what makes you happy?”  I didn’t think Ryan would really understand what “thankful” meant.  I wrote that I was thankful to have my husband home for the weekend as he’s been in Portugal since the middle of August and is unfortunately there as I type this now.  Jay said that he was thankful to have a strong wife that could endure his absence and care so well for our children (awww…) and then it was Ryan’s turn.

Mommy:  “What makes you happy, Ry?”

Ryan:  “Snowman!”

Ha!  A snowman.  How funny is that?  I admit that I was expecting something of the sort…but I thought that perhaps it would be Superman or a pirate as those are the things he’s been into recently.  But no…he’s thankful for a snowman :)  I can only imagine this is b/c snowmen have been in the back of his mind as the first snow flurry fell just the other day

Mommy:  “What makes you happy, Noah?”  This I say in a high-pitched voice as Noah looks adoringly at my face and smiles revealing the dimples in his cheeks I love so much.

Noah:  “Ahh goo!” 

That’s what I thought

I was fortunate enough to have my husband home from his very long business trip in Portugal for Thanksgiving.  Beside having a wonderful Thanksgiving Day with him, we were able to venture out during the weekend and finish our Christmas shopping.  Wahoo!  Unfortunately, he had to go back to Portugal this afternoon, so if we wanted a Christmas tree this year (and you’d better believe we did!), then we’d have to get it while he was here.  (I can just picture me now…lugging the boys alone, picking our tree, having someone help me load it on top of our mini van and then…and then what?  I’m thinking our Christmas tree would be displayed on top of our van instead of in our home this year!)

Saturday morning Jay got up with the boys so I could have a couple extra hours of sleep.  Sigh.  So nice!  When I woke up and was showered and had breakfast, we ventured outdoors to do some of our Christmas shopping with the boys.  Four hours later, Ryan (2 1/2) was just simply done.  He became cranky and was telling us that he wanted to go home.  We decided it was best to leave the store we were in or we’d have to endure the consequences of staying much longer…and we didn’t want any toddler tantrums, that’s for sure.  We buckled the boys back in to their car seats and headed for one more stop before arriving home; to get our Christmas tree.  We’d have to get it this night so it would have a day to settle into it’s base in our house before we were able to decorate it.  With the boys buckled into their seats, I place the car in reverse and that’s when it began…”eh eh, eh eh.”  It’s Noah (four months).  He’s beginning to protest our busy day.  Would he hold on much longer?  Um…nope.  Full blown screaming at this point and we weren’t even at the Christmas tree stand. 

We pull up to the stand, Noah still in tears of protest.  We both exit the car, me to grab Noah, and Jay to ask the cashier if they take credit cards.  I get back into my seat ready to nurse my son when Jay saunters back.  Negative.  We probably should have thought about bringing cash with us, huh?  I nurse Noah and now it’s Ryan’s turn.  He’s beginning to crank it out in the back seat continuously demanding that we take him home, tears piling at the bottom of his eyes. 

Jay entertains Ryan from the front seat as Noah eventually finishes nursing.  I move around to the pasenger’s side of the car and place Noah back in his car seat, content for the moment.  I walk back to my side of the car, sit in my seat, and we’re off.  Off to another Christmas tree stand.  This one takes credit cards. :)  We take the boys out of the car, bundle them in the coats and hats we’ve packed for them (boy was it cold that night!) and walk on over to where the Christmas trees are propped up on their trunks, displayed prettily for people like us to admire. 

Fortunately it takes only a minute to locate our tree which is pretty much a first for me and Jay when we tend to playfully bicker about various aspects the other person likes in their tree.  Okay, I’ll admit…it wasn’t all up to us this year.  Ryan pretty much picked out the tree for us, settling any bickering that might have been.  At 2 1/2 he had no idea what he was doing, that’s for sure, but he did the pointing and we did the purchasing.  We had an employee take a few pictures of us outside with this year’s Christmas tree, Ryan bundled in his new orange jacket and brown and orange hat, and Noah squeezed into my arms looking absolutely adorable in his fuzzy Racoon-themed hat.  Big smiles for my family tonight :)  We pay and then load the boys back into the car and much to my relief and delight, both boys are on their best behavior for our car ride home. 

We have arrived.  We take the boys inside and as I get dinner ready, Jay brings the tree indoors and places it into the tree stand.  Uneventful.  This is no doubt due to the absolutely amazing super-duper tree stand that we got last year!  Gone are the days of my holding the trunk of the tree for a half hour at least as Jay struggles at the base trying to finagle the darn tree into the stand.  We’ve even had years where we thought all was good and then…bam!  The tree falls down.  Not fun! 

We were able to decorate the tree yesterday afternoon.  How different it was this year!  As Noah’s first Christmas, we purchased a “baby’s first Christmas” ornament and Jay took a couple photos of me helping Noah to place it on his very first Chrismas tree.  Of course this was for our benefit as Noah has absolutely no idea what’s going on…but how cute, right?  Ryan was actually able to help us with the decorating this year.  His idea of decorating the tree was to pile ornament after ornament on the same branch until they’d eventually all fall down, and if not doing that, then he’d attempt to place an ornament on one of the Christmas lights instead of a branch  :)  He had such a great time exclaiming about “his” ornaments and touching the lights.

During meals today Ryan would look upon his Christmas tree and talk about it.  Periodically throughout the day, he’d go up to the tree and caress the ornaments hanging from the bottom.  If there’s any reason to purchase a Christmas tree, then this is it…to see the look and excitement on your child’s face.