Christmas Eve

It is Christmas Eve and both kids are, mercifully, asleep. They have been teetering on the brink of sanity for a couple days now. They will need their rest for all the excitement that lay in wait tomorrow.

We drove down to NJ last night, leaving earlier in the day than we normally do--a 3 pm departure from Newton, followed by a couple brief stops for food & pee, arriving at Baba and Tita's house around 9:30. Not bad at all. We typically leave home around 8 pm to minimize traffic while en route, but getting in at 1 am has a number of drawbacks...foremost among them the amount of time it takes us to get both kids back asleep when they realize where they are.

A couple years ago, before Celia was born, we hit some traffic during our Xmas pilgrimage and arrived at about 2 am. Andres had slept for most of the car ride and was decidedly uninterested in returning to sleep despite our best efforts. That was a miserable few hours--he just howled and howled from his Pack 'n' Play while Natalia and I tried to get any sort of sleep...I think we gave up around 6 am and just decided to start the day then, exhausted ourselves and with a very overtired toddler. Merry Christmas.

Last night was fine though--we made good time, and getting in before the single-digit hours was good for everyone. Andres played for a bit and then went to bed around 11 (he had slept for awhile in the car). Celia was another matter. She has been sick and she has a nose that won't stop running. During the day, she has taken to spreading all of her nose-drippings across her face and into her hair with a simple stroke of her arm. (This has the unintended consequence of making her face appear like it has a fine shellac applied.) At night, though, sleeping has been tough for her and she has been waking herself up with a nasty cough. This happened last night, too; we put her down around 10:30, but she was back up with us at 11 when it was clear that she was too congested to sleep. She was also complaining that her belly hurt.

Oh--and then she threw up all over me. That was pretty awesome. She just let loose. Love is when you suffer through the warm deluge of your daughter's vomit hitting you square in the chest without flinching. True love is when you are already covered in vomit but still wait for the second round before moving a muscle so that the furniture doesn't get ruined. Yes, Celia, I love you. A lot.

So that necessitated some cleanup and therapy. She felt better after removing the entire contents of her stomach onto my shirt, though, and soon fell asleep for the remainder of the night.

Despite their late bedtimes, both kids were up and raring to go at 7:30 am. (Though the theory that kids who go to sleep later SHOULD sleep in later is an enticing tale, we have yet to see it written.) Pawning off my two lovelies on the grandparents, I managed to sleep in until 8:30. A Christmas miracle!

We spent part of the day blitzing around area malls getting last-minute gifts and trying to find suitable, dressy shoes under $20 for both kids. Then it was back home for Celia's naptime and Andres' "quiet" time. I really wanted him to nap, but at this point there's no making him sleep if he doesn't want to--and he enjoys staying up far too much to ever want to take a nap. (School is a different story; he will take short naps there, and asks me every morning if I have "packed his rest things." With us, he wants to stay awake, even as he descends into a spiral of annoying, negative-attention grabbing behavior. Ahh the joy of 4-year olds!) I was getting nervous that the combination of not enough sleep last night, no nap today, and unbridled excitement at Santa's imminent arrival would be too much for him to handle. Many mini-tantrums this afternoon showed I was correct.

And yet...despite the vomit and the tantrums, they are still pretty cute kids. We got them all dolled up for church around 5 pm, and they had the decency to allow me to take a couple pictures before they returned to their natural state of driving me to drink.

I'm about to strangle you or kiss you. Or both.

All dolled up.

He actually takes a cute picture when he wants to.

They did as well as could be expected at church. Sitting still does not come easily for either one of them, and given everything else that has happened the past 24 hours, I think the best we could hope for was to minimize the number of looks shot at us from neighboring pews. We did ok. Andres sat reasonably still for the first 15 minutes, "following along" in the hymnal. Celia took off one of her shoes and admired the choir.

But by the end of the service, Celia was content to lay under the pew in front of us and Andres had managed to injure himself with a Christmas tree ornament. Don't ask. I tried to coax Celia off the ground, but she just looked at me with an expression that said "we both know this won't end well if you try anything. So just leave me here and we'll both be happy." I left her there. I was also happy to hear some screaming from the back of the church--not one of mine! The wail of this unknown child would certainly make my own offspring's behavior seem pale in comparison, and thus more tolerable. I thank you, miserable child. Another Christmas miracle.

We left without further incident, sat down to a wonderful Christmas dinner, and then had various mini-meltdowns on the way to bed. But no vomit this time--so things are looking up! And tomorrow will certainly be an exciting day.

The Prince, trying to stay awake through dinner.

The two gifts I am most eager to receive? Boston vs NY Knicks at noon. Hoops is back, baby. And, hopefully, a pair of two-hour naps to accompany the game. I can dream, can't I?