As the clock struck midnight and it officially became Christmas morning, I found myself unwrapping the most – unique – homemade package from Kayliana. Of course all my complaining of her constipation issues would lead to a Christmas morning miracle! Thankfully, she’d slept through early Christmas Eve Mass, because once we were home she was one unhappy little constipation-stricken baby girl!

The boys got to bed around 9pm that eve and then we waited. We waited. The boys waited for Santa. We waited for Kayliana to poop so that the boys would go to sleep so that Santa could come. It’s all in the eager anticipation, my friends. We kept peeking in on the boys and every time Matthew just stared back at us with wide excited eyes. Eventually it appeared that he’d finally given in and sleep had taken over. I started to nibble on one of the cookies left out for Santa (one of Aunt Jamie’s delicious coconut macaroons). Thankfully, I’d just placed the partially eaten goodie back on the plate when Matthew stumbled out into the living room (and thankfully it was a macaroon and not perfectly round to begin with, so you couldn’t see the extracted bites).

Matthew sleepily said, “I can’t sleep. Kayliana’s keeping me up.” All the while, he’s not making eye contact with us as his eyes dart wildly around the room searching for any sign that Santa’s maybe already made a brief appearance. We apologize to Matthew that Kayli was keeping him up, but she had a tummy ache and hopefully it’d be over soon and he HAD to get to sleep or Santa wouldn’t come. He started blearily back down the hall and then stopped. Turning back his face was full of concern, “You and daddy have to get to sleep too or Santa won’t come, huh?”

“Yep,” I say, “We all need to get to sleep soon or Santa may skip over our house this year.” I’m evil. Now, he’s not going to go to sleep for the stress that Santa may just avoid us all together!

Eventually, Matthew DID give in. According to him, he fell asleep at 11:17. (Likely the last time he actually checked the clock). Kayliana did not get to sleep until 1am and we didn’t finally retire until 2. Thankfully, she gave us a nice long stretch and we didn’t have to get up until 7:45 to start breakfast, coffee and be ready for the allowed 8am-wake up from the kids.

Zach – of course – was the first one down the hall. He followed the rules perfectly and didn’t actually enter the living room. I sent him back to wake up a VERY tired Matthew. The looks on their faces were priceless this year! (Matthew was thrilled with his Lego fire helicopter, to say the least. And the flower headband Santa brought for Kayli is as big as her head! Guess she’ll grow into it). I attempted to catch some of them on film, but there’s just nothing like experiencing Christmas morning through the eyes of a child.


Only 360 days, 13 hours, 16 minutes to go!

It is Christmas Eve. I long all year for the holiday season to be upon us, and the little girl trapped within me can’t wait, but yet the closer we get to the big 2-5 ‘o December the more I’m flummoxed by conflicting emotions. I want it to be here, but I don’t WANT it to end!! The smells (the seasonal-Christmasy ones, not the ones that come from Kayliana’s diaper presents), the lights, the music, AHHHHhhh, the music…I just get so sad when it’s done! Mike always gives me a hard time because every year, pretty much the moment Halloween wraps up, I’m ready to go Christmas-crazy (but I do hold off...as long as possible…usually until Thanksgiving). Mike acts like I’m hurting Thanksgiving’s feelings or something by not being more ‘into it.’ Maybe I would be more into November and Thanksgiving if it was as awesome and magical as December and Christmas. Maybe if there were Thanksgiving carols. Maybe the Thanksgiving marketing department ought to get on that. But, sorry, nothing can compare to the magical anticipation of this season. Nothing.

I’m excited to watch the children Christmas morning – to see Zach’s face when he sees the Playmobil Knight Castle (that he’s wanted for a year – every since best buddy Joshua got his for Christmas last year); Matthew will surely be surprised by the new bike that he didn’t ask for but really needs (since his knees practically bump his chin while riding his little one). I’m very proud, I might add, that I got both of those items second hand and they’re in great condition. We’re definitely on a tighter budget this year, but we will still have way more than most families and we’re so blessed. And of course, the best present of all will very possibly be wearing a bow on her head, and she may just end up under the tree for a while so we can all admire her. She’s smiling more and starting to coo a bit and I know that she – along with the boys – will help me get through the post-Christmas hum-bugs. But don’t judge me if I do just leave up the decorations a bit longer than is socially acceptable. And I might still be listening to Christmas music in April. And then for a week in July. And then again next October (but don’t tell Mike).

Merry Christmas!

Kayliana is a month (and two days) old!! She celebrated in style yesterday. We attended Matthew’s winter concert at school (where she made several teachers ooh-and-ahh over her Christmas dress and about which Zach later made the interesting statement, “Matthew, I could HEAR you NOT singing.” Deep). We then went to her one month doctor’s appointment where she was gifted the green light to daily drink 2 ounces of prune juice to help with the, uh, “issues.” She’s pumped. Dr. Benda, whilst running through her checklist asked if Kayliana has, by chance, started smiling. I eagerly reported that just that morning – being a total genius – she seemed to discover the art of grinning and just wouldn’t stop. And I didn’t try to stop her! Dr. Benda asked about tummy time, I reported that she’s a champ and raises her head and turns it and all that cool stuff. She asked if she makes eye contact (totally). Does she kick her legs and arms? Yes. Yes. And Yes. Yet another genius Martin on our hands. And then Kayliana really pulled out all the stops and Dr. Benda – who obviously has seen plenty of kiddos and babes in her day – commented, “Wow! She’s got some seriously strong lungs. This girl’s got a loud cry!” I tried to explain that Kayli’s loud crowd is saved for moments of torture (aka nudity, every diaper change, and pooping), but Dr. Benda couldn’t hear me.

Christmas2010

Picture Tree Christmas

Personalized Christmas cards at Shutterfly.

View the entire collection of cards.

(Warning: Detailed baby-body function discussion ahead).

I just don’t do enough bragging about my husband, and he deserves it – he’s a talented chap. So, now let me boast and rave about one of his (many, many) talents. Mike is now known around these parts as the “Fart Whisperer”. It started as the “Baby Whisperer” as he had an intuitive knowledge of what was bothering Kayliana, but he has since honed his skill even more. It doesn’t take a super genius, really, to know that most of the time gas-related issues are what plagues Kayli, but Mike really does have special skill.

At first I was a little jealous and bitter, “Why can’t I be the one who REALLY gets Kayli? The one who understands her needs?” And then I realized that with great power comes great responsibility (actually, I didn’t realize that, Peter Parker/slash/Spiderman did, but it applies here too). I pointed out to Mike that if he continued to be the one to always help Kayli work through pain, if he was always the one who could get her to sleep, then he’d have himself a full-time job! And now, like Jesus-casting-out demons (OK, not really), through the right amount of leg-bending and back-patting, Mike can call out the built-up pressure and help ease Kayliana’s pain (thus the new title of Fart Whisperer). It’s like he summons the Gas Demons and the evil pain just releases from her little toot-constipated-gas-tortured body. And we all breathe a sigh of relief (while simultaneously holding our breath).

Kayli – as I’ve said – suffers a bit from the ‘ol constipation issues. Well, the other day, we had quite the cathartic release, if you will. A few times, in one day. Let’s just say that one diaper change required a bath. Another involved about three outfit changes and then the last one was what Matthew once referred to as “creepy.” On Thanksgiving Day, while watching the Macy’s parade, Mike had decided to just change Kayliana downstairs on the floor while we watched. I’d gone upstairs for a moment when I heard Mike yelling, “Back-up! I need back-up!” I hustled downstairs to witness that Kayli was using the diaper change as the opportunity to, uh, finish her business. And there was a lot of business to finish. The business was finishing all over the fresh diaper, the changing pad, Mike, etc. Matthew – unfortunately – happened to be seated in such a way that he had a front row seat for the horror. His eyeballs were saucer-big and a look of disgusted fascination was plastered to his face. This was the diaper change that was the first of many “creepy” ones.

So, the other day, while in the middle of a “creepy” change, I required some back-up. I called to Matthew saying that I needed a few more plastic bags from under the kitchen sink to dispose of all the creepiness and could he bring them to me. Matthew called back, “What have I told you about this?! I do NOT want to hear about all that disgusting diaper business!...but I’ll bring you the bags.” Matthew bumped and stumbled down the hall and then stood in Kayli’s doorway – eyes squeezed shut AND hand plastered over them – with his other hand extended full of plastic baggery. I thanked him and he made a quick eyes-still-closed exit.

Apparently our mini-Mike does NOT take after his father in this area. But as long as Matthew keeps those plastic-bags a-comin’ I can survive the creepy changes until the Fart Whisperer comes home to work his magic.