The third day of Christmas

Here we are. The wonderful, quiet days after Christmas, used for gathering thoughts and sitting cross legged with a cup of coffee balanced on your knee. I've spent much of my time since Christmas sitting on Kade's bedroom floor in my pajamas, watching him play with his gifts and relishing in the fact that I have nothing else to do. No gifts to purchase or wrap, no goodies to cook, no parties to be to. While I enjoy these things, nay, adore these things, it's an incredible feeling to just sit.

Christmas Eve: The Pre-Christmas Party Spectacular, full of excitement and little balls of energy racing around aunt Catherine's house, thrilled for Santa to arrive, bellies full of sugar cookies. We gathered snuggly in the living room and sung carols, exchanged gifts and were just plain merry.

As Christmas tends to be, this one was a great one. Kade learned that beneath that colored paper there are toys to be had. We slept in- my plans of making a big Christmas morning breakfast slipped quietly away in the still morning when I got off work before the sun had risen and crawled under my quilt, my jacket still on and zipped. I was exhausted and knew that because Kade had gone to bed late, I could steal a few hours before the long day ahead of us. My kitchen showed signs of last minute baking and a haste clean up that left flour sprinkled across surfaces and packed into crevasses. Laundry covered every inch of my bedroom floor, pushed off the bed when neglected to be put away by someone (who was that anyway?) sleepy and groggy. When Kade finally woke up, I cleared a place at the breakfast table, made him something quick and easy that was nothing like gingerbread pancakes and felt a little guilty. But you know what? Christmas morning was magical anyway. Kade is a gentle little soul- tearing the wrapping paper very carefully, one tiny strip at a time. Once a gift was opened, he wasn't interested in the next one. It took some coaxing. Yes baby, that's a very neat guitar. Now let's open this one... But no, that guitar was the bread winner. It was that toy. You know, the one you take in the car to show all your grandmas and cousins. It lay across his lap in the back seat and through all our adventures we heard the sweet melody of "roof roof rooooof," accompanied by an occasional giggle.

The best part was the giving part, of course. I loved handing gifts to my loved ones, This one is for you, and knowing that I had made an impact on their holiday. I cherished sitting at the dining room table, candles lit, listening to the hustle and bustle that is Christmas night and stuffing myself with danish food that I look forward to all year long. We visited five different places, each cheerful and warm and welcoming. And at the end of the night, far passed bedtime, we tucked Kade in and wished him one final Merry Christmas.

The Elf Shelf

And now, there is the big open space of a new year. A whole year of opportunity, twelve months of growth. We'll do our best to grab it by the horns, hold on to the moments and press the sweet opportunities of love and time against our chests.

A lot happens in a year. A year ago today, we didn't know what was wrong with Kade. He had holes in his heart, threatening his little life and making him tired and sick. A year ago today we knew nothing of heart medications, surgery risks, recovery times. I had no job, my baby was sick and things seemed like they couldn't get worse. Today, Kade is healthy. His heart is healed and so are ours. We have our own home, jobs that we love and love for one another. The last couple of years have shown us how strong we really can be and how love really does conquer all.

2012? Bring It On.

Falalalala!

Each day I find more and more opportunities for growth- more learning opportunites for Kade- but more often, learning opportunities for myself. For example, while dining at a familiar restaurant for my grandmothers birthday. There were twenty of us at the table, all ordering shrimp except Kade. I ordered him a grilled cheese and upon waiting over a half an hour, he was cranky and diving head first, mouth wide open toward anything that looked remotely like food. I approached the waitress, cautiously. She was decked in lime green and the color of her face was a hot, contrasting red. She looked a bit like Christmas gone amuck. Ma'am, I know you're very busy but my baby is hungry and impatient. Is there any way we could get his grilled cheese before the other meals are finished? She looked at me with dagger eyes and turned on her heels toward her manager, who looked equally flustered. I'll bring him some crackers. And, she did. Which I appreciate. What I didn't appreciate is that when Kade's food finally made it's way to our pushed together tables, it was long after the rest of us had finished our meals and cold. I attempted to tear it into pieces for him, but he pushed past my hands and scooped up the whole sandwich, taking big meaningful bites from the crust and pausing only to take long drinks from his tippy. When he pulled away from his cup, he was out of breath, but there he went again for the sandwich.

If I had been Kade in this situation, knowing myself well and having been in such a situation before, I would be pissed. If I were a toddler, there would be a tantrum. A kicking-punching-slamming-the-table-where-is-my-FOOD?! tantrum. Kade, however, was calm. Certainly there were moments of distress but he hugged my shoulder as I paced and kissed my cheeks with his little pursed lips, tangling his fingers up in my hair. He swooned all the ladies around him and was ready and willing to be tossed across the table from grandma to grandma to uncle to grandpa. He was patient.  I sat at the table and moaned I can't believe they served him last after I specifically asked them... And all the while, Kade had forgotten the incident complertely and was savoring every last bite of his cold, crusty grilled cheese- grinning at Aunt Judy across the table and throwing his hands up in the air in celebratory enthusasium Yay!

Now, here I sit thinking of that poor waitress. Having served us before, I have to wonder if upon seeing us she panics. Us Binghams, we're a tough crowd, and I have to give her credit for always bringing enough shrimp sauce, maneuvering around coats and bags and putting up with the wrapping paper littering the floor. I suppose a little appreciation needs to be handed her way. I hope when she gets home tonight, she can trade in her festive attire for something cozy and sleep away the aches in her muscles, which I'm sure ensued after a long night on her feet. Thank you, Waitress Lady at Utah Noodle.

Kade adores his Nana.

***

This year, we've had our first opportunity at scheduling our whole Christmas Week ourselves. Every last detail has been decided by us. When I was younger I found myself dreading Christmas morning. There is that dreadfully quiet and boring space after all the presents are opened and hours before any family feasts begin. You finish cleaning up the wrapping paper, dress in your festive attire and sit around the house. Now what? I used to impatiently ask my parents when we were leaving. When are we going to see grandma? Other grandma? Dad? Hello, isn't Christmas about family?! This year, I've got a plan to nip those dreadfully long hours in the bud. Hopefully, Kade won't share the same exasperation when he's older. I think a huge Christmas morning breakfast (I found this recipe for gingerbread pancakes with banana cream- amazing!), opening presents and a drive up the canyon to see the snow and breathe in the new year will do the trick- giant mug of candy cane cocoa in hand, singing carols all the way.

Christmas parties, shopping dates, coffee with friends; I've spent the week focusing on what Christmas is all about. I've snuggled up close with my friends and relatives, laughed the night away, and had myself a much deserved mug of Rum and Egg Nog. This is also the first year, incidentally that we've been able to buy gifts for all of our loved ones. And I've found myself watching in anticipation as they tear away the paper- that green tree paper that I spent five minutes deciding on because it had to be just right- and being more excited that I was able to give to them than I was about my own gifts. Yes, this is good stuff, Maynard.

Our dear friends are visiting from California. We've been so grateful to spend some quality time with them while they're here. We love you, Murphy family!

Emberlynn and Marleigh

I love how my apartment looks like Santas work shop around Christmas time. There are toys everywhere- even the adults can't help but play along. 

 

Two of my favorite girls! 

 

Now, I'm off to make the most of this weekend- to soak it all in like a sponge. May you do the same.

ps. This year, Kade gave me the best gift of all:
Houston, we have a walker. 

Sugarplum Fairy In Training

Could it be that we are now in a countdown of only five days until Christmas? I guess this being true, I have a reasonable explanation for being at walmart at eleven o'clock at night, filling my cart with powdered sugar and molasses and blasting "Rocking Around The Christmas Tree" on my headphones, practically skipping down the aisles. And I suppose you could use these last five days as justification for my plan of staying up extra, and I mean extra late, baking and sewing and singing quietly (hopefully) to myself into the early hours of the morning. And I guess you could say that a six am trip to coffee with a friend is perfectly reasonable. Given the circumstances, of course. 


Today was a day of receiving packages, hanging pine cones, cleaning the house, caring for my sweet niece and of course, Super Baby.

Yes, that is a bruise on my knee. A common occurance. 

 

If you tell Kade there are only Blank days until Christmas, he starts clapping and giving this goofy grin, then sticks his hands up in the air and yells "yay!"

I must be doing something right.  

Deck the halls, bake a fresh batch of cookies, go caroling, go shopping whatever time of night and soak up the time you have with your loved ones. Whatever makes you feel it. I insist that you gulp down every last drop of the season.  I insist.

All is merry and bright

It is as if the little Christmas elf in my brain just woke up, realized he slept in, and pushed the panic button. Over the weekend, I was minding my own business when all of a sudden it struck me to count how many days we have until Christmas. At that moment there were only sixteen. Sixteen days for me to create fabulous traditions that Kade will carry with him into his adulthood and (hopefully) pass on to his children. Sixteen days to bake cookies, sing carols, read Christmas books, go to Christmas church services, throw snow balls, stuff cheerful Christmas cards into the mailbox and dance around the kitchen for the millionth time to Frosty the Snowman (Kade's favorite right now). Now, I realize that Kade is not even two years old and probably won't remember this one, specific Christmas. That being the case, I'm using it as my "practice year." In response to the Panic Button, I braved the crowds and went Christmas shopping. I invited a friend over and made cookies for my neighbors. I went to the library and borrowed every holiday book I could hunt down, Twas' The Night and all. I made a flippin' tree garland out of popcorn.

Now that I'm older, I realize "the reason for the season." Instead of anticipating what presents there are for me, I have scoured the shops for that perfect little something for my loved ones. I find that this time of year is a challenge to do great things for others. Giving an old friend a ride to work, even if it's ten miles out of your way or having a late night phone chat with a long distance friend. Sometimes, the smallest things mean the most.

Last night, in that sweet little niche before bath time but after dinner, I stuck a hat and slippers on Kade and we ventured to the apartment below us, belonging to a wonderful woman named Mama Grace. We tapped on the door, bearing a box of homemade sugar cookies, dripping with vanilla frosting. She invited us in, asked us to take off our coats, expressed how grateful she was to have visitors. I have lived right above Mama Grace for a year now and besides a note on her door asking "please excuse our noise, Kade is teething!" I have had no communication with her. I found myself wondering why as she opened her home to us, offered us drinks and wanted to know all about our Christmas plans. She's the sweetest thing and gushed over our haphazardly decorated cookies, commenting that the little baby fingerprints in the frosting just made them.

In a simple holiday gesture, I found a friend. And baby, that's what it's all about. This time of year is a reminder in searching out the beauty and grace in the simple things in life. Christmas is the one time of year when it seems everyone shares a similiar feeling- a feeling of warmth and togetherness; a reason for long nights spent in front of fireplaces with the ones we love, not caring about what's happening outside of your small circle of hugs and warm gestures.

I hope Kade holds Christmas as a cherished memory; I know I'll cherish every Christmas I have him here with me, covered in flour and scoping out the presents. 

One day, he'll tell funny stories about Mom manically cutting out snowflakes at the kitchen table. 

 ***

And then, of course, there are the moments in between. Like the first big snow fall and long bubble baths with Santa Claus beards.

 Now, on to late night phone conversation with my dearest Kelli and a hot cup of Christmas Tea.