Christmas in Minnesota

On Christmas Eve, after a crack-of-dawn flight and a holiday crush at Dulles that required me to park so far away it would've been faster to walk from home, not to mention a light rail delay and a nightmare line at the car rental place in the Twin Cities, I was finally reunited with my little beast. Which was really all I wanted for Christmas.

Of course, I got much, much more. Including a beautiful Christmas Eve candlelight service that evening, at which both Finley and I (somewhat remarkably) managed to avoid burning the place down.

(It was not for lack of trying on her part, something you can't tell from the deceptively sweet-looking baby in our Christmas family photo.) Incidentally, Jayne did manage to shoehorn Finley into her cute Christmas outfit, although the Mary Janes were a lost cause and we went with Toms.

The next day, Seth even made Christmas dinner. (OK, fine. I preordered it from Whole Foods, so all we had to do was pick it up and heat it, but it looked like a ton of work since there was so. much. food. involved. Speaking of which, I am never making a holiday dinner from scratch again.)

Finley got to the table early so she could sample everything,

and particularly enjoyed the stuffing. If possible, she enjoys stuffing as much as her Dad and her Grandma Jayne. Comes by it honestly!           

Partially because we were all traveling and therefore conscious of suitcase space, and partially because I am incredibly fortunate to come from a family that doesn't value "stuff" and to have scored in-laws who are delightfully respectful of our desire to not raise spoiled kids (despite what I imagine can be powerful grandparent urges), we didn't have a tear-open-presents-focused Christmas. Finley ignored her stocking completely and played with her new art supplies for about ten seconds before returning her attention to the obnoxious singing Elvis ornament I had brought home from a white elephant gift exchange at work and her current favorite thing.

Everybody indulged my desire to take her to see the Christmas lights in downtown St. Paul (and get a Christmas evening walk), and the lights were indeed beautiful. Although Seth and I agreed- didn't hold a candle to the ones in Laurie, Missouri. Seriously.

On Boxing Day, it finally snowed. Seth woke me up at midnight to see the full moon and big, fat snowflakes outside. It was a magical moment, and just in the nick of time, since I was starting to feel cheated (as I always do, when enduring cold temps without the powdery stuff to show for it.) Finley seemed to like it.

In our new traveling tradition, Jayne and I took Finley to the Minnesota Children's Museum, which turned out to be the nicest one we've encountered yet. Seth and his Dad went to the Casino, a Christmas tradition of sorts.

Finley went wild for the "disco party"

and the water tables, both of which prompted "time to leave" tantrums. Jayne and I decided cheerfully that this meant a good time was had by all (and it was naptime).

And that night, Seth and I enjoyed our Christmas present from the Niemans immensely. Tony and Jayne babysat the beast and bought us dinner at the spectacular Porter Creek Hardwood Grill, and we snuck in a couple hours of snowtubing. Which was awesome, even if baby #2 seriously impeded my ability to give Seth a run for his money in the "running start and flop" category.

All in all, it was a terrific long holiday weekend in the Twin Cities, and it was hard for Finley and I to leave.

But we were definitely not up for the outdoor Vikings game in ten degree weather that Seth and his parents enjoyed Sunday night (Seth in shorts!)

Finley was a pretty cooperative traveler, except on the actual plane, which comprised 2.5 of the longest hours of my life as I wrestled with the apparent aspiring baby MMA fighter. Naturally, she fell asleep during final descent. (Note Sheriff Callie in the "before" shot, Ben & Lisa.)

Seth got home Monday, and it's a back-to-work, unpacking kind of week, new year's plans being somewhat tame on years in which one has an all-traveled-out baby and another one on the way. I plan to set an alarm to see the ball drop, and Seth is thrilled that that means he can watch college football undisturbed.

Family Christmases result in tons of great pictures, but two of my favorites this week are of Seth's very-serious running start on the tubing hill,

and my equally serious vow never to fly alone with a 13 month old again. At least not while pregnant. And over the holidays. And, well, let's be honest, it'll probably happen again- and this picture says it all. (Although neither of us had our feelings hurt at coming home to 70 degree weather!)

We're so grateful to Tony and Jayne for accommodating our crazy schedules and travel logistics, and agreeing to spend Christmas in a rented house an 8 hour drive from their house. (And of course, for the much-needed date night.)

We've also been watching the news about flooding in Missouri anxiously, and hope everybody there is high and dry and managing to enjoy the holidays anyway!

Gratitude, Holidays, and a Much-Anticipated Reunion

Over the years, I have developed a mantra of sorts: be kind. practice gratitude. find joy. I remind myself of these imperatives every day, I share them whenever possible (I have imported a "weekly gratitude/ goal list" to every job I've had in recent years, and it always catches on), and I really, really try to live them.

Some weeks I do better than others. It's been more than a little difficult to find joy on this rainy week of dreary commutes and long work hours in an empty building while everybody in the city- including my better half and my precious baby- is enjoying the holidays with family. And said better half, on the receiving end of a fair number of joyless phone calls, would probably tell you that this has not brought out any particular kindness either.

So it'll have to be gratitude that saves the day. And I am grateful. Although I miss my family desperately (and actually found myself in tears on Sunday, watching little kids line up to see Santa while my own was exactly 1556 miles away, not that I checked), I am grateful that I got a couple of uninterrupted evenings to clean out the attic, donate two whole carloads of things we didn't need, and put in a few hours volunteering at the food bank -- all while knowing that Finley is well taken-care-of, surrounded by her doting dad and adoring grandparents, and certainly misses me less than I do her. I'm grateful that April made time to visit, and took me ice skating at the National Gallery, which I've been dying to do.

I'm grateful that we got our own mini-Christmas on Saturday morning before Seth and Finley left, and that my siblings sent her drums and xylophones and cars and other noisemakers- because she loves them. (And that she still goes nuts for the planet mobile I couldn't resist at Pottery Barn when she fell in love with it while Christmas shopping.)

And I'm grateful for FaceTime (new favorite photo),

and a husband and mother-in-law who send me priceless photos like this one.

And this one.

Mostly, though, I'm grateful that today is my last day of work before Christmas, and that I have a 6am flight to Minneapolis tomorrow. I still have a long baby-free to-do list and have so far packed only socks and long underwear (this notwithstanding, I am hoping for snow), but I'm beyond excited for it to feel like Christmas, and to see my family. I feel like it's been ages. And family is, after all, the very best part of the holiday season.

I'll be thinking of Missy spending Christmas in Fairbanks, Ben & Lisa & fam and their first Christmas in Japan, the Bustamantes doing something fabulous and exotic for their South American festivities, and Mom & Dad celebrating the holiday and Mom's birthday in style in Texas (because everything's better in Texas.) I love my family, and our longstanding tradition of not having to be in the same place to be together.

Also, Finley wanted to wish Ana a happy birthday. (Obviously the photos of the week.)

And so, in the immortal words of Clement Clarke Moore, "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"

Another year, another Army-Navy.

Three years ago, Seth was confined to a hospital bed with one leg in traction and a wound vac on the other, but determined to make it to Army-Navy. He was maybe more angry than I've ever seen him when they had to call in the Chief of Ortho to tell him that the trip was not going to happen (presumably because everyone else was afraid to break the news.) Two years ago, we sat through the last quarter wearing garbage bags after a miserable few hours that had included rain, sleet, hail, AND snow (and the tradition of club seats with indoor access was born.) Last year we left Finley overnight for the first time for a night "off" in Baltimore, and I got up at 4am to race back to make sure she was OK. (She had been on her worst behavior, and Mom and Dad were thrilled to give her back.)

This year, we packed up the whole clan for an unseasonably warm weekend of family fun in Philadelphia. We rented a beautiful old Trinity house in South Philly, and were reminded again that this is the only way to vacation with kids. Seth and Finley danced to actual records with the windows open,

and I tried (somewhat successfully) to keep Finley from eating the leaves that made it still look like fall in the courtyard.

We ate delicious German food in embarrassing quantities

and Finley and I had an outdoor brunch date and explored the Italian Market, where she was a big hit, stuffing mozzarella samples in her mouth and trying to pet all the alley cats.

She even got to see the Liberty Bell, and crawled through an actual protest in Independence Square.

All in all, a pretty successful Philly weekend for Finley, who spent a sunny Saturday afternoon with a nanny, exploring the city on foot and visiting every park and playground in reasonable walking distance before dinner at Whole Foods and a bath in a claw-footed tub.

Not as much so for the Army team, which lost its 14th straight game to the hated squids, or for Seth, who is deeply emotionally invested (and unflappably optimistic) every year. Still, we were the 22-point underdog Saturday and played an incredibly close game that had all of us on the edge of our seats in the final moments. I call that a win, and a good sign for next year.

It was also nice to get a parents'-afternoon-off,

and to catch up with friends in town for the game. Even if my tailgating calories had to be alcohol-free this year. (I feel like I still got my share of indulgence in!)

Here's hoping next year is a win (but the insanely beautiful weather holds).

Unfortunately, Finley- who cannot catch a break these days- picked up bacterial conjunctivitis (pink eye) and was home sick yesterday. She had been miserable the night before, waking up crying with her eyes practically glued shut, but perked up after Seth took her to the doctor for steroid drops and had a lovely afternoon playing hooky from daycare with me. She inexplicably loves shopping (can she possibly be our kid?)

and scored a dinner date across the street from the library on one of Dad's study breaks. (During which she climbed on the table and generally acted like a terrorist.) 

I also finally had time to pick up a chocolate advent calendar for her, and the photo of the week is her studying it intently, seconds before she discovered that she only got one piece of chocolate a day. Not a popular discovery.

"Case of the Mondays" is apparently a real thing.

Some days, you just need a pick-me-up, and Anne Taintor usually does the trick. In an effort to snap out of my current funk, I pulled this up this morning over decaf coffee. Unfortunately, it reminded me that there will be no "I need a drink" days for a long time.

To be accurate, I still have plenty of those days. Just not what I imagine would be a highly satisfying cocktail at the end of them.

I'm not even anti-Monday in the way that internet memes suggest most of the working world is, and I spend a lot of time working on the practice of gratitude. It's just today.

Our last weekend at home before holiday mayhem wasn't great. Seth and I have been at each other's throats for a week or so, and Finley (and therefore, I) was up all night last night with yet another round of daycare crud. I spent the hours between 0100 and 0500 googling "croup" while she coughed herself awake repeatedly. (It's not croup.) I'm getting more and more bummed at the thought of spending five days away from my baby in just over a week, a feeling made worse by the fact that she's going through a snuggly/ Mom phase. I have yet another weekend of watching everyone else party- this time while freezing my tail off at Army-Navy in Philadelphia- coming up while I sip mineral water. Work is an absolute nightmare through the holidays, as I am forced to skip workouts and lunchbreaks (not to mention forego leave) in preparation for "getting" to start the 4-month ILE course in January (which is definitely not my choice.) I'm already getting to and leaving my windowless office in the dark every day, and am buried in work and about to have to start bringing it home to finish in time. My faith in humanity has been depressingly, seriously eroded by stupid, tasteless, offensive, ill-informed, superior, and downright inhumane social media feeds in response to recent news events. The super-fun bone-and-joint-rearrangement phase of pregnancy has started early with this baby, leaving me feeling like I have a knife buried near my tailbone most of the time and seriously hindering any spirit-lifting cardio I can squeeze in. I destroyed the blender trying to cook while holding Finley this weekend, and have yet to order the wildly expensive new vacuum cleaner we desperately need so our floors will no longer be an actual biohazard. AND it's time to dig out the ugly sweaters and shop for white elephant gifts and unearth the sugar cookie recipe while I am in the mood for exactly zero of that.

Oh, and I finally got around to making Finley's "year in photos" collage, and it did NOT come out great.

Whew. Too bad I am not somebody who thinks "oh, well, it's OK to have a  bad day/ week/ month." I am somebody who thinks you need to pull it together. Still, when laughter turns out not to be the best medicine after all and scotch is off the table, sometimes the best one can do is to hope for a mercifully short Monday and a fresh start tomorrow. Fingers crossed.

In the meantime, the weekend did have bright spots. One of them was the bike ride we got in last night (just under the wire for "weekend fun") and this absolutely gorgeous sunset. (Not done justice by iphone photography, as per usual.)

And I finally made it to the craft store after weeks of its residence on my to-do list, and got all the art supplies we needed for handprint reindeer courtesy of a panicked phone call to Missy. We even managed to avoid painting the entire house brown (thanks for the reminder to get washable paint, Miss, even if I'm still not sure about the glue gun), although the final product probably falls into "pinterest fail" category.

AND, although we didn't make it to see the National Christmas tree, we took Finley to see the lights at the LDS temple. They were as spectacular as we remembered, and she was way more interested (obviously) than she had been last year, pointing at everything and especially digging the purple ones.

So here's to Tuesday and Christmas lights and things looking up. The photos of the week are some other much-needed rays of sunshine:

Finley LOVES books these days, and she holds up the one she wants you to read to her and clambers into your lap. It's basically the most adorable thing ever.

She was also a hilarious (and reasonably well-behaved) dinner date Saturday night, when I took her out for date night while Seth studied.

Oh, and there was this.

And (this is from last week, but still makes me smile) she loves brussels sprouts. Grabs them and stuffs them in her mouth. I feel like this is a major parenting win.

Thanksgiving Trek to Missouri

Five years ago, I ate my Thanksgiving dinner cold, out of Ziploc bags. The view from the top of Black Balsam Knob was stunning, but I really hoped the bears couldn't smell the stuffing I had picked up at the Whole Foods in Asheville. I was backpacking the Art Loeb Trail alone, in my longstanding tradition of spending Thanksgiving in the great outdoors, eschewing the hostage situation that the holiday season represents to most people who live far from their hometowns and virtually all military families. For most of our lives, our parents hadn't been religious about holiday travel (I learned from the best that Thanksgiving "dinner" can be a turkey sandwich in the wilderness after all), and I certainly didn't intend to start.

Five years later found Seth and I spending the wee hours of the holiday at the mercy of crowded airports, early morning flights, long security lines, oversized suitcases, and a sick and cranky baby. The business of having babies shifts the paradigm more than a little, and we were making the holiday rounds this year. Not without protest. Finley and I feel roughly the same way about holiday travel:

Although one of us did get to sleep on the plane. Thank God for Seth, who is willing (and able) to wrestle a thrashing baby into cherubic, sleepy submission. When I fly with her alone, it's looks a lot like this.

Finley, who had been sick with a high fever, causing an eleventh-hour race to the doctor's office to find out whether we should cancel our trip, turned out to be a real trooper. She was under the weather for most of the trip, but charmed her way across the state of Missouri with minimal fuss and only a few temper tantrums. 
We at least partially credited this genius invention ("best $14 ever spent," as we affectionately refer to it) on the long drive to and from the Lake of the Ozarks.

We also benefited from the reinforcements provided by Ana & Ata, with whom Finley had a joyous reunion (reminding us just how much we missed having them down the road). They took her beer shopping

 and to the famous Versailles Christmas lights.

and she watched her share of football with Ata in the townhouse we had VRBO'ed on the lake. (Best. Plan. Ever.)

She did, however, sleep through the epic drive-thru Christmas lights in Laurie, as well as her walk to see the completely random exotic animal farm.

Missouri sure delivered on the weather: it was in the upper 30s and raining for virtually the entire trip. (After a beautiful, sunny Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday at Katie's, that is. Which Finley spent most of outside with Ana & Ata, trying to eat the landscaping rocks.) Poor Seth sat in a rainy ground blind for days without seeing a single deer, while I bundled up for balmy walks with Mom. This picture made me laugh.

But as with probably all of the families for whom I had felt sorry from my perch atop the Pisgah Ledge, we ended up feeling like the odyssey had been worth it. It was nostalgic and funny to see Finley crawl around with her second cousins, as we had done with the Walters cousins decades ago. It was indescribably special to see her point at the painting of the old man that's been above the Grans' fireplace for as long as I can remember, and show the Robinson side of the family her comes-by-it-honestly red-tinged hair. And of course it was wonderful to introduce Seth around, and spend time with aunts and uncles and cousins we hadn't seen in ages, and catch up on new babies and life changes and do a bit of reminiscing over pie.

That doesn't mean I won't insist that my own kids (I finally look and feel pregnant enough to think of that in the plural!) spend their fair share of Thanksgiving holidays eating turkey sandwiches around a campfire. But it does mean that we now understand why those security lines at the airport are so long this time of year, and we were definitely glad we had made the trek (and grateful to everyone who accommodated our whirlwind tour of the Ozarks!)

And, because we're on the topic of gratitude, we celebrated Seth's third "alive day" on Friday. It was very low key this year, but it's never far from our minds this time of year. Grateful, as always, doesn't begin to describe it, and we feel more so with each passing of November 27th.

We didn't take as many photos as we had intended, but snapped these photo of the week doozies. Finley's exuberant discovery of luggage carts,

and the devouring of one of Mom's famous cinnamon rolls.

 We hope everyone had a beautiful long weekend giving thanks, however celebrated.