I love to take pictures of her hands and feet. Who am I kidding, I just like to take pictures of her. But the photos of her little parts make me smile. They will not be little for long. This is one when she is sleeping. She holds her own hands until she drifts off to sleep.
We had a wonderful visit with my family in Alberta. Not the whole family, but most of them.
As I kept saying to the little miss. Aunts, uncles, great aunts, great uncles, cousins, second cousins, grandma and grandpa OH MY. She defiantly had her full of cuddles. And a number of chatting partners. Now I don’t think mum cuts it. I think she wonders where all her entertainment has gone.
She also had her very own body guard. In the form of my sisters chocolate lab. It really was the cutest thing, she always had to be close. And it didn’t even faze Adelayde, she just wanted to touch her. She cried, the dog did too. If I wasn’t in the room and she cried, she came and found me. Hey, hey your baby is crying, come quick. But she was a bit jealous, she wasn’t getting all the attention. Cute none the less.
Not only was it her very first Christmas. She also had her very first plane ride too. That was not only an adventure for her. But for myself as well.
I’m not super keen on flying. It makes me nervous, and I normally take drugs to combat it. Sigh, there was none of that since I nurse.
I did have to wake her up to get to the airport. So you can already see where this is going to go. She was a bit of a bear, but lucky they were loading as soon as I hit the gate. We had to nurse right when we got on. Because it was passed her feed time. And she was having none of me trying to fend her off until take off. Have you ever tried to nurse in one of those seats??!! Not easy. And even harder when the person in the seat next to you is on the larger side.
Plane is in motion now, no ear issues. Thank the stars for that. But without fail, we get a massive poop blow out. Right up the back, and the seatbelt sign is still on. And would you like to sit in a shitty diaper? I think not, so the fussing begins. It really doesn’t help that when you have a child on a flight. You have to have the window seat. So you get the stink eye when you have to get up.
Changing her was a challenge. You forget how small the toilet is. Somehow it seemed even smaller. And to top it off, as soon as I lay her on the tiny slab they call a change table. We hit turbulence. The screaming begins, she wailed until we got out. The flight attendants were all oh she doesn’t like to be changed? Ummm no that’s not it, can I try it on you and see how you feel?! Back to the seat, make the people get up again. By this point she is overtired. Trying to rock her in a confined space was interesting. But we managed. Thankfully it’s a short flight. The way back I lucked out and had her asleep before we got on. She slept the whole way home.
It was also her first photo with Santa. She smiled and everything. Very proud of no freak out. I’m sure we will get one photo of her screaming at the fat man in red.
She got spoiled. I didn’t want anything, the trip there was a great gift. And my daughter is the best present ever. She was just early, and the gift that keeps giving. And spending time with my family was amazing. All in all I can say it was a memorable holiday xo
Since the little Miss and I are heading to Alberta. To spend her first Christmas with my family. And we have a pile of gifts here to open. We, or I really decided it was high time we open some.
I know what you are all thinking… GASP opening presents early, how could she. Luck fact of the matter is she is too young to know any better. So this year I can get away with it. I just can’t pack them all up to take with us. It would just be WAY too much for just me to handle. I mean come on, me, her, stroller, car seat, one piece of luggage and the diaper bag/purse. Just not going to happen….
No we haven’t opened all of them.. We are spreading it out over the next two days before we leave. Its our extended Christmas, or our own version of the 12 days of Christmas. Just shortened and not so many birds, and leaping lords and such.
When I was young I didn’t have a lot of fond memories of Christmas. My parents did a lot of arguing. And it seem to come to a peek at the holiday season. Threats of Christmas being canceled, were always thrown about. Mind you it never was. But just the words being said were enough to bring tears to your eyes. I’m the youngest of four, I have two sisters 12 and 10 years older. And a brother that is 5 years older. So needless to say I knew that Santa wasn’t real, at a very young age. Ooops sorry if I’m letting the cat out of the bag to anyone reading this. Yes Yes the man in the red suit is real.
As I grow older, and now have a child of my own. I want to rekindle my Christmas spirit. I want to see her eyes shine in the lights of the Christmas tree. And teach her that giving is WAY better than getting. So I’ve been thinking back to what I did enjoy about this time of year. The traditions that I want to carry on with my little family.
Something that I miss more than anything is my grandmas baking. A huge holiday tradition was the making of the fruit cake. I know what you are thinking, hockey puck break your tooth kind of fruit cake. The kind you regift and then regift again. It was nothing like that, sure it had the sickly sweet green and red cherries. That I’m sure sit in your colon for years, like gum. But it was a light-colored cake. And it wasn’t so much eating it, it was the whole process of making it. The whole family extended and all would gather at my grandmas house. It was an ordeal you see because a cake would be made for every family. Us kids liked it because if you were good you got batter. Mmmm batter, we would all fight for the beaters. But there were so many kids it was a fight. So you would end up with a beater, a small spoonful, or the dredges from the mixing bowl. I loved when my grandparents were alive. Christmas dinner was always at their house, there was upwards of 30 to 35 of us. It was never the same once they passed. I miss that a lot.
Another tradition that I have no idea where it came from, or how it started. Was the Christmas present left on the end of your bed Christmas morning. It might be one from Santa, or any other present. This was meant to keep us in our room longer in the morning. You know kids up at the crack of dawn. I don’t think it ever really worked the way it was intended. But it was something that we all looked forward to. As soon as I would open mine, I would go to my brother’s room and wake him up. Then we would rush out to the living room. We were allowed to go through our stocking. Another thing meant to keep us busy, and mom and dad sleeping. Once they were up it was a fight… Presents first or breakfast, presents always won out when we were young. But as we got older, breakfast won out.
As I got older and I moved out. It became less and less important to me to decorate or really celebrate. My idea of celebrating was waking up Christmas morning popping open a bottle of champagne and a jug of oj. Making breakfast, chugging back all the mimosa’s. And being passed out by noon. And when I moved out to the west coast, I rarely did anything. I pretended that it was just another day. It’s a great day to go to the theater and watch a movie.
In a couple of days we are heading back to the homestead in Alberta to have Christmas with my family. I haven’t done that in years, so we will see how this all pans out. I know little Miss wont remember this one. But I still want to try to make it special. I mean it may be her first Christmas, but it is also my first Christmas with her.