Happy Christmas

Christmas is not one of my favorite holidays. We spend too much, People drink to much, families come together irritated and broke and try to get along...and then you throw snow into the equation. No bueno. I've always loved Thanksgiving. Come together eat, pass out...go home. I don't even have a tree. I decorate my fireplace. I may continue to do that as long as I have a fireplace. Why waste a perfectly good tree or take up space (that I don't have) with a fake one? I'm still debating on lying to my kids about a jolly fat guy coming down the chimney and leaving them presents. I was raised on Santa but my Daddy also told me "nothing in life is free." People aren't normally prone to just giving you stuff because you were "good" or "nice."  Dang! I'm evil huh? Like I said I haven't decided on that yet. I don't want to "lie" to my kids and then have their little fantasy ripped away when they find out the truth. There has got to be a creative way to have Christmas without Santa and without dashing my child's dreams. Eh...i'm working on it.

Well Merry Christmas to all you broke folk that spent to much on crap that you don't need and that are working overtime to pay their bills. :)

My lil bundle of rolls

My son is 2 months old today! Man...time flies when you're a mom. If I were just staying at home by myself i'm pretty sure i'd be bored out of my mind by now but, with a baby...it's work. I'm by no means Susie-homemaker. For some odd reason I thought I would be. I thought I will have the house clean everyday, dinner on the table and a sweet quiet baby that just smiles and coos all day.

Mmm, not so much.

Most of the time my son is crying because he wants to be held, there are dishes scattered everywhere throughout the house because i'm rushing a quick bite whenever I can and seeing as how my arms are full of baby I don't have time to put it in the sink.  Dinner doesn't get made or even thought about until my husband comes home and can hold the baby and half the day I'm i'm breastfeeding or trying to catch up on sleep. It's exhausting. Kudos to single moms! I'm so happy I have my hubby come home and give me a few minutes to myself.  I love being a mom, don't get me wrong. But everybody needs a few minutes a day for themselves.

Anyhoo

My son is starting to smile now. Man! What a beautiful thing! It lights up my entire day. He coos and kind of laughs and kicks his little feet out when he's happy. He was pretty scowly for the first little while so I wasn't sure he was a happy baby.  Even after he got his first shots he managed some smiles for me. (Probably so I wouldn't punch the nurse in the face!) He is on the shorter side but he's doubled his weight! All rolls! LOL. I love it.

Taken from Sweet Salty Blog (Kate Inglis)

To the guy with the wife with the baby She’s a natural, you know. She is competent to a fault, emitting a swift, cheery self-sufficiency that makes people think she’s not in need of anything. But there is something she does need, especially now: you. She needs you to come home asking for her, for the baby, dropping your stuff in a pile at the door and calling to her I’m just washing my hands! in that way that tells her without seeing your face that you're smiling, like you’ve spent the day at the office willing the time to pass so you can get back to your girls. She needs you to trust her, to follow her lead. By virtue of time logged this child is her domain. It won’t be like that forever but it is, now. Even if she’s at a loss, pretend she’s not — for however long it takes for her to find her feet. She needs you to know, beyond any doubt, that the isolation and responsibility of her days and nights is infinitely more draining — emotionally and physically — than how you spend Monday to Friday, 9 to 5. She needs you be at her side in this love affair, to see you as baby-drunk as she is. Because there’s almost nothing more appealing than to hear Come quick! Come see what he’s doing! and to witness the baby you made together in his daddy’s lap, and to see concentrated joy there. She needs you to get dirty. She does. She needs you to be patient. She is. She needs you to be proud of her. Most days, kneecapped by self-doubt, she’s not. She needs you to know these two things and send them back to her, received and absorbed and agreed as sure as a reflection: 1) It is not easy to be a baby — to have no understanding, no context and no control, physical or otherwise. To feel an almost constant sensation of vertigo, of falling and startling. To be hungry for milk and to not know for sure, regardless of past evidence, that someone will put something in your mouth. 2) It is not easy to be the mama of a new baby — to have no understanding, no context and no control, physical or otherwise. To feel an almost constant sensation of vertigo, of falling and startling. To be hungry for validation and to not know for sure, regardless of past evidence, that you are not alone. For all this: such is the mark and the duty of a good sort of man.