images of christmas

At 6:30 on Christmas morning, I heard the boys wake up and turn their light on. A moment later, they tiptoed into our bedroom, Garrett grinning with anticipation and Caleb, half-asleep, dragging himself behind him. As soon as he was inches from my face, Garrett announced in a voice too excited to truly be called a whisper, "Mom! It's Christmas!"

And so began a magical day. Santa Claus had indeed found our house; he fulfilled all of Garrett's Christmas dreams by bringing him a rocket AND a marble run. Caleb got a new dolly and dolly stroller, Blake got a Kindle (which he loves, even though he is a little disappointed that it didn't come with the "new book smell,") and I, after years of pining for one, finally got a KitchenAid stand mixer. The only hitch was that, for the second year in a row, Caleb was sick. He'd been running a fever for the last several days and exhibiting the symptoms of a really miserable cold. He and I stayed home from church, both of us sad to miss the musical program that had been planned (well, I missed the music; I'm pretty sure Caleb was only bummed because he couldn't leave the house wearing his new backpack) while Blake took Garrett to the chapel with him -- and, because none of his counselors were there, let that lucky little boy sit next to him on the stand.

In the afternoon we spoke with various branches of our families and then cooked eggs Benedict for dinner (a favorite of ours, and far less stressful than trying to cook up a turkey or ham with all the fixings). By the end of the day, we were all ready to call it a good day and collapse into bed, which is exactly what we did.

Below are some snapshots that sum up our holiday.

Sick, snot-nosed Caleb, with his Christmas loot, watching his favorite movie (The Snowman) for the second time in a row.

Sometime during the third viewing, he crashed, and spent the next 2 1/2 hours taking a much-needed nap.

It took a little while for him to warm up to a new dolly, but he has since made the adoption complete, and is taking his parenting role very seriously.

Both boys can't get enough of the "running marbles."

Garrett test flying his new rockets.

And brushing up on a few facts about outer space.

After he, in a fit of two-year-old rage, threw his doll on the floor, Blake decided to give him a lesson in the proper care of an infant, which included gentle cradling, neck support, and burping.

Bare bottoms in the bathtub. Apparently the new foam alphabet letters are too fun to sit down to play with.

if the shirt fits...

Three and a half years later, this shirt still fits him:

Garrett, July 2008

Garrett, December 2011

(I say "fits," but I actually mean "swallows.")

And by the looks of things, it just might still fit him (for real this time) in another three and a half.

handmade christmas, part two

While browsing with my mom at Anthropologie during her visit to New York this October, we came across the most adorable note card tucked away on their shelves of stationery. It was simple piece of cardstock stitched with red and blue thread to look like a piece of lined notebook paper. They cost something like $8 for a single card, so neither of us bought one, but the thought did cross our minds that this was something we could easily make ourselves.

I've long wanted to try sewing on paper; I think the effect is really fun. And what a better project to start with than a basic imitation of lined notebook paper? So a few weeks ago I pulled out my sewing machine, my red and blue thread, some blank 4"x6" index cards, and a box of similarly sized envelopes and tried making one. I used the 6/8 mark to the left of the presser foot as my guide for the red line, and sewed the blue lines, first 1" down from the top, then every 1/2", until I reached the bottom. It turned out so great I made a bunch, divvied them into sets of five, and gave them to Garrett's teachers and therapists as Christmas gifts.

Sewing a straight line on paper is a bit trickier, for me anyway, than sewing one on fabric, so my seams turned out a little crooked in places. But I actually liked the cottage industry effect it gave the cards. Each one is slightly different, but there is still an overall uniformity that makes it work.

handmade christmas, part one

For several reasons, including our budget and my sanity, we've kept Christmas gift giving this year fairly simple. And for even further simplicity, I've done most of my holiday shopping online. With the little bit of extra time I created by doing so, I've been able to tackle a few handmade Christmas gift projects.

This year Santa will be bringing Caleb a new dolly and a dolly stroller (Caleb loves baby dolls, and there is no way I'm going to inhibit that attachment, at least not yet, because hey, if I can't seem to produce girls, I'm going to take any hints of softer, sensitive sides in my boys and run as far and as fast as I can with them; also, it's really adorable watching him take care of the dolly he already has). As any little girl could tell you, dollies need accessories, so Santa commissioned me to make a small dolly blanket.

I used fabric scraps that I already had on hand for the quilt top, and so only had to buy fabric for the backing and binding. In place of batting, I used a piece of the backing fabric instead, which worked great -- I didn't want this blanket to be too thick, and it didn't need to provide warmth, but it still needed something sandwiched in there for substance.

I think it turned out well. Since it was a small quilting project, I decided to try my hand at machine quilting it myself. Nothing fancy, just a few straight lines parallel to the seams of the patchwork pieces. I only had to re-do the binding 2 1/2 times (and it's still not quite right), but I don't think Caleb will notice the flaws, and he's more than worth the bit of extra effort anyway.

je me souviens

This time each year marks the sudden appearance of cars in the neighborhood with license plates from Quebec. It took me until this weekend to realize that they all belong to French Canadian Christmas tree salesmen. Sure enough, when we went to the corner tree lot set up on the sidewalk outside Rite Aid, we were approached by two scruffy Quebecois with thick accents and an unusual affinity for plaid flannel who showed us around their selection of evergreens. We picked a lovely, and incredibly fragrant, 4 foot Douglas Fir -- the largest tree we've ever purchased! -- and hauled it home where Garrett and Caleb eagerly set to trimming it and, once they'd finished, admiring it.


They are both absolutely thrilled to have a Christmas tree in their own house! (They are, in the very apt words of my mother, "worked up to a fevered pitch of anticipation" for Christmas this year.) And I'm thrilled to help provide that excitement. If their enthusiasm this year is as long lasting as they daily lead me to believe it will be, this will no doubt be a Christmas they'll always remember.

three musketeers

I had another ultrasound yesterday, and while I was there I learned that this already adorable (Look at that puckered mouth! That upturned nose!) albeit alien-like creature is a....


...'nother boy! We're on a roll, three for three. Our third musketeer.

I've actually known for some weeks now that this was another boy. At my last ultrasound, at 12 weeks, I caught a glimpse of his nether regions, which, even though it was early, looked suspiciously male. I will admit that on that day I shed a few tears as I stared at the screen, watching the baby I was convinced (since this pregnancy has been so vastly different from my other two) was a girl. But I was surprised at how okay I was when the technician gave me the official verdict yesterday. I supposed I've had time to come to terms with it, and honestly, in the last few weeks I've felt an incredible peace with the way our family is taking shape. We already have two really sweet boys; I wouldn't mind another one like them. Also, it's been reassuring to know that we already have a name picked out (which likely won't be widely revealed until his birth); boy names have always been difficult for Blake and I to agree on.

Garrett is still coming to terms with the fact that he's getting another brother; he was really hoping for a girl ("I reary want a girl cuz I reary want a girl cuz I reary want a girl!"). His biggest concern is that another boy would only be bent on tearing apart the train tracks he spends so much time meticulously building. Really, though, once this baby reaches the age where he is moving around and disrupting things in his path, it'll be Caleb who I'm sure will be the most put out. He, on the other hand, is oblivious to what is coming; whenever the subject of "the baby" comes up, he runs to grab his dolly, sure that that's what we were referring to.

The baby is measuring more than a week bigger than his gestational age. I'm not sure what this will mean in the long run, but just in case (and also because of my previous experiences), I'm gearing up for him to come early.

As for me, at 17 weeks I'm finally starting to look pregnant, though only just. My height and long torso have a way of hiding things until later in the game. I finally had to pull out the maternity clothes last week. But even though I might look small, it doesn't mean that I'm not feeling it. Growing a human is an exhausting endeavor! I crash every night just as soon I've tucked the boys into bed. The nausea is mostly, though not completely, gone. It's getting difficult to sleep, thanks to a growing difficulty to move and the charlie horses that spring up if I'm not careful. Unlike past pregnancies, this time I'm dealing with a lot of round ligament pain and pinched nerves, which have been manageable but obnoxious.

And very much like past pregnancies, I am again plagued by Braxton-Hicks contractions. With Garrett I started getting them around 30 weeks, with Caleb they began in the middle of the second trimester. I was warned by a nurse that they would likely begin even earlier this time around, which they indeed have. I've already been dealing with them for several weeks, though they thankfully have not yet become as debilitating as I know they will be. Contrary to what the textbooks tell you, my contractions are induced by movement, and getting up to take a walk doesn't help to make them go away. So partly because of the way my body handles it, and partly because of our Brooklyn lifestyle, pregnancy for me is both a delight and a torment. On the plus side, though, all the false contracting my body does throughout pregnancy has typically meant a faster delivery when it comes time for the real thing, and that is something I will never complain about, no matter how frightening and intense those last moments are.

Also on a more pleasant note, I've started to feel movement. It's still small, and I have to be paying close attention to notice it, but it's definitely there, and it more than makes all the discomfort and trouble worthwhile and gratifying.

family photos

In early November, we had our talented friend, Adam, take pictures of our family. It was a cold morning, and the boys were less than cooperative. But with a little flexibility, a bit of cropping, and a lot of skill on Adam's part, we were able to get some really lovely shots. To look at these, you'd never know how cranky the boys were or how flustered their parents were.

first comes love, then come play dates

Yesterday was a much anticipated and red letter day for Garrett and his "best-friend-Sofia." After daily planning discussions on their bus ride home from school, their mothers finally got it together and arranged a play date for the two of them. Sofia came to our house for the afternoon, and she and Garrett had a great time.

They did a pretty good job keeping themselves entertained. The colored, compared their "matching" bare feet, and even went on an imaginary picnic. Just in case, though, I planned our annual Baking of the Gingerbread Cookies to take place while she was here. They had a lot of fun cutting gingerbread men out of the dough, then decorating them with frosting and candy.


Sofia is a talker -- she did more than enough for the both of them, and when Caleb woke up from his nap, she talked for him, too. She has a lot of habits common in an oldest-child-who-is-also-a-girl, and more than once did she remind me of myself when I was younger. None of these quirks seemed to bother Garrett, though; he is far too smitten with their friendship to let little things like that get to him. In fact, they are already planning their next play date, which (surprise, surprise) can't come fast enough.

train gazing

The holiday train show at New York Transit Museum's annex location at Grand Central is one this city's best kept Christmastime secrets. It's free, and if you go at the right time (which in our experience translates to "not during the evening rush"), there are no crowds. Also, it's super awesome. And what little boy is not completely entranced by a small world connected by working model trains?

window shopping

After visiting Santa at Macy's, we walked up ritzy 5th Avenue to see this year's department store holiday windows. We do this every year, but this was the first that we went in the middle of the afternoon. The weather was mild, and it was nice to have some daylight for our walk. And, what's more, the crowds were so manageable, they were almost non-existent (by NYC tourist trap standards, that is). That alone made doing it earlier a much better option for us. Of course, going earlier didn't prevent the inevitable meltdowns that are bound to occur on any family outing, but at least we embarrassed ourselves in front of fewer people.

Since we were already there, we started at Macy's, then hopped over to Fifth Avenue and walked north, stopping at: Lord and Taylor, Rockefeller Center Plaza, Saks, Tiffany & Co., and finally, Bergdorf Goodman. The displays didn't seem to be full of their usual pizazz, which is perhaps a sign that we're still in the thick of an economic recession and that even the very wealthy are feeling a bit of the pinch. But they were still lovely and detailed, and, even despite the moment when Caleb completely flipped out in the middle of the always crowded Rockefeller Center Plaza, I'm glad we went.

Macy's

Lord & Taylor

It's a long walk from Lord & Taylor (38th St.) to Rockefeller Center (50th St.), so Garrett and Caleb switched places -- several times -- as we made our way north.

Rockefeller Center
The tree this year is the fifth one I've seen up close and in person. It is also, I think, the prettiest.
Also, those crowds? Compared to previous years we've been, I'd call that plaza practically empty.

Saks 5th Avenue

Tiffany & Co.

Bergdorf Goodman

We didn't make it over a few avenues to the east to see the last two big department store windows. This was because we weren't interested in the Lady Gaga display (at Barney's) and the boys had just about had it (and we'd just about had it with the boys) to trek all the way over to Third Avenue to see Bloomingdales'. Maybe next year.

magical mister santa

Garrett is finally old enough to anxiously anticipate the arrival of Christmas. He's been talking about it for months, and now that people are starting to put up decorations, he's noticing -- and loving it. At first he was associating the holiday with his birthday, so whenever the subject came up, he'd tell me how excited he was to turn 5 at Christmastime (because, you know, getting presents and getting older obviously go hand in hand). It took a while, but I think I've finally been able to convince him that while he won't turn 5 until next summer, it doesn't mean that he won't get presents at Christmas. That is, if he's a good boy.

This year is the first that I've been able to pull the Santa card. "If you don't stop whining and just obey, Santa won't come to our house," I tell him -- frequently. And it always gets him to gulp, swallow his tears, give me a forced smile, and ultimately shape right up. After all, Santa is his key to getting the rocket he desperately wants to find under the tree on Christmas morning. (This request caught Santa's helpers -- Blake and I -- completely off guard, and now we're scrambling to see if we can make this wish come true. If this is the magical year that Santa exists for Garrett, I'm really hoping he can work a little magic for us as well.)

Late last week I told Garrett that Santa -- the real Santa (as opposed to the fake one he watched Buddy duke it out with on Elf) -- was going to be visiting New York City. Would Garrett like to go see him? "Oh, no thank you," Garrett politely told me.

"Are you sure?" I asked. "Because if you want to get a rocket for Christmas, you need to sit on Santa's lap and tell him."

Garrett didn't need to hear another word. "Oh! Okay! Let's go!"

And so on Friday we trekked to where the real Santa would be -- the 34th Street Macy's. The North Pole, where Santa awaits his eager masses, is housed on the 8th floor, and, thanks to the hoards of people, overworked employees, and crowded elevators, it's incredibly difficult to get there. But, oh, once you are there, it is fabulous. Everyone is nice. Everyone is happy. The halls are decked in tinsel, fake snow, twinkling lights, and oversized toys. It is truly a magical place, that 8th floor, and more than makes up for that crabby lady operating the elevator like she owned it.

If you go on a weekday, the wait in line (or on line, as New Yorkers say) is not bad. And actually, that's half the fun. First you board the train that will take you to the North Pole. The train itself might be stationary, but you wouldn't know it by the recorded train chugging sounds heard overhead and the imitation rumbling underneath your feet. Then, upon exiting, you wind through a forest of arctic animals, model trains, and every toy a child could wish for. Along the way, Santa's elves greet you happily (which is a wonderful, and incredibly stark, contrast to their fellow employees on the floors below).

Finally, it's your turn to visit with Santa. I prepped the boys for what would happen when they met him: they'd be invited to sit on his lap and he'd ask them what they wanted for Christmas and if they'd been good boys this year. Garrett was simultaneously a little nervous and eager to meet the man of the hour; Caleb half-heartedly followed his brother's lead. Garrett willingly sat on Santa's lap; Caleb took one look at the guy and said no way! When asked what they wanted for Christmas, Garrett cheerfully told him he wanted a rocket; Caleb, from a very safe distance, mumbled that he wanted the same thing.

When it was over, we were all given a commemorative button and wished a very merry Christmas. "Wow," said Garrett as we walked away. "I like Santa!" "I like Santa!" Caleb echoed, though I'm not sure I believe him.

I am, however, convinced that Caleb is also excited for Christmas. It started as a mirror of Garrett's excitement, but it has since developed into something all his own. This morning, as with most mornings lately, he pointed out the mistletoe hanging over the door of our neighbor across the hall. "Christmas! Christmas!" he shouted. "Mommy, I ehcited Christmas."

And I am, too. Their excitement is contagious.

Waiting in line to board the train.

Model train watching.

Garrett pleased as punch to finally be with Santa, and Caleb itching to get the heck out of there.

Garrett with Santa, his newest hero (assuming his helpers are able to make his rocket dreams come true).

the seventh five

The events of the last few months interrupted my desire to curl up with a good book and as a result, the speed at which I usually devour books was slowed. Slowed, but not abandoned. And so, finally, here are my next five books.

31. Howard's End by E. M. Forster

I have long loved Forster's A Room with a View, and as such, many years ago picked up Howard's End for the first time. I'm not sure why, but I got stuck near the beginning of that first attempt and put it aside. Finally I decided to try again, and with each page I turned, I wondered why it took me so long to just read it already. It was both enchanting and riveting, full of Forster's typical wit and fascinating characters. I loved it.

32. Katharine and E. B. White: An Affectionate Memoir by Isabel Russell

My mom and I share a love of and fascination with E. B. White. Though he is best remembered for his classic children's books, particularly Charlotte's Web, he was much more prolific than most people realize. And, if I may be so bold to say, he was one of the best writers of the 20th century; his style is one I always find myself trying to imitate. While reading his essays and letters give a peek into his life, a memoir or biography is a little bit more efficient. My mom found this book, and she recommended it to me, though she did so with a caveat: the author, who worked as Katharine's personal secretary, was obviously infatuated with Andy White and simultaneously portrayed his wife, who was as much the literary genius as her well-published spouse, very unfairly. Also, she's an awful writer. But -- all that aside, it was still an interesting peek into life in the White's coastal Maine household in their later years.

33. E. B. White: A Biography by Scott Elledge

Another E. B. White recommendation from my mom. Though it is officially an unauthorized biography, Elledge took great care when researching White's life. He even maintained a friendly correspondence with White, who supported his efforts by providing access to his papers at Cornell University and occasional corrections to the text. I believe that this biography took Elledge about 20 years to complete. Because it is unauthorized, a lot of it is conjecture, and there are some holes thanks to the fact that the bulk of his information came from the White files at Cornell. But it was well-written and provided me with a more whole (and unbiased) view of his life.

34. North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell

It took watching the BBC film adaptation (which is fabulous, by the way) to get me to read this book. I didn't realize that Mrs. Gaskell had written anything else of note besides her biography of Charlotte Bronte (a book I still, despite my love of all things Bronte, haven't been able to get through). The film was pretty true to the book, which made it easier for me to read. I really enjoyed it. I loved that Margaret and Mr. Thornton finally worked through their differences, but I think I loved even more that they mostly despised each other throughout the majority of the book. Neither character was perfectly loveable, which made this 19th century love story not only a little more real, but a little more entertaining as well.

35. The Ladies Auxiliary by Tova Mirvis

Though I don't live in an Orthodox Jewish neighborhood, I see plenty of them come through to shop at the big discount department store a few blocks away. As I watch them, always with similar conservative hair and dress styles, always in large family groups, and always so young looking, I find myself wondering about their culture, which to me rubs off as one they prefer not to share with the world at large. Perhaps this is why I found this book so interesting. It's a novel about a community of Orthodox Jewish women in Memphis, Tennessee, and it was absolutely fascinating -- both in what it revealed to me about the Jewish religion and culture, as well as how remarkably similar theirs seems to mine. As layers of the story kept unfolding, I couldn't help but notice how much Jews and Mormons have in common. With the swapping of a few terms and ways of worship, this story could have just as easily have been about a community of Mormon women in a close-knit small Utah town. Unfortunately, that observation doesn't always speak highly of the Mormon culture, but it is what it is, I guess -- and none of us, no matter how religious we are, is perfect.

advent

Not only is Thanksgiving over, but it's now December as well. We have really and truly entered the Christmas season.

To mark the occasion (as well as because on cold, cloudy days the sun sets at like 3:30, leaving us stuck inside desperate for ways to distract ourselves), the boys and I made one of these yesterday:

image source

It's a variation on the paper chain advent. At the end of each day we'll rip off a link until we've reached the yellow "star" at the top on Christmas Day. Our little tree is hanging merrily in the entrance of our living room. The boys were so proud of our work that they voluntarily posed next to it and asked me to take their picture.


Christmas in New York City is magical, and in addition to tearing off the links on our paper tree (as exciting as I'm sure that will be), we'll be out and about soaking in the holiday celebrations around the city, so stay tuned.