Wise Protector & Christmas

Raymond means "wise protector".

So Christmas Day RR and I served at the 9:15am Mass. "Thankfully" the boys were up at 6am on Christmas morning and TT had no interest in unwrapping presents; he would rather play with each gift before opening another one, so we were all able to get dressed and fed and out the door on time for Mass.

Husband and the little ones were seated in the second row of the church. He seemed to have a rough start to Mass, getting ERP to settle and all that. But once ERP was settled the little ones seemed to be behaving well for Husband.

And then, there we are; during the Eucharist, all of the Eucharistic ministers, myself and the alter servers lined up to receive the Host and TT falls in the pew. He took some sort of tumble, and his cries soared out over a quiet church. Husband worked as fast as he could to comfort and quiet TT. But in RR's book it wasn't fast enough. Several times he had to pull himself back in line; as he was about to dash into the church and rush to his brother's aide.

It was a good Christmas. Full of love and memories and really good food. But RR wanting to rush to take care of his brother is what I will always remember from that day.

And now some photos... to share some of our other memories with you.

Are You There?

Yes, I'm still here.

No, I have not fallen off the face of the earth.  Yet.

Life has been full of blog-able moments.  I have tons of stuff to share with you.  But really life has been hectic.  Isn't it for all of us this time of year?

I really am making an effort to enjoy a simpler Christmas this year, thanks to a book I recently read.  So I can't really blame my lack of blogging on that.

I'm just not a fan of December.  I have a December birthday, and I am not a fan of my birthday.  Really I would skip the day all together if I could.  Some of it has to do with my paternal-grandmother's passing and funeral back on my 25th birthday; some of it has to do with the "whole year older" BS.  Some of it is because I really don't like celebrating my birthday.  I just don't get the idea of adult birthday celebrations.  Sure it makes sense when it's a milestone like 50 or 75 or any birthday after 85 for that matter.  I don't enjoy all of the attention.

Not to mention work has been insane.  Did I tell you I got a promotion at my day job?  I have this new added responsibility of managing other people.

When did I get so old?

And responsible?

We are also going through other organization changes at work, and moving around offices; and all that fun jazz that just makes for very long days.

Oh and I have been sick.  Head cold, turning into a chest cold.  The baby is getting it as well.

Good times in our house right now.

Everyone thought I was so on the ball for doing most of my Christmas cards before thanksgiving.  I'd like to think I was a little bit of a fortune teller.  I was able to see in December and see what a train wreck it was going to be and I acted on my premonition.

And no, that does not mean I will be waiting out the end of the world with the Mayans.    

Really??

Today I got, yet another, postcard from Similac (the formula company).  They were inviting me to join their StrongMoms community, and as an incentive I would receive a "free gift" - a Similac bottle.  Just what I needed and wanted!!!  (Please tell me you can read the sarcasm in this line.)

Husband kept asking me "Are you really going to sign up for that junk?".

Why yes, yes I am.  Yes, I did.  I signed up on the StrongMoms community.  And because I signed up they are going to send me up to $329 in membership gifts, offers and infant formula and coupons.  

Really???

I mean - REALLY??? 

I am pretty sure that when you hit the 17 month breastfeeding mark your not going to decide it's time to switch to formula.  At least I know I am not about to.  Breastfeeding is best choice for me, and I am studying to become a breastfeeding counselor so I can help other women fulfill their breastfeeding goals.  Breastfeeding is something I love.  I really do.  It's something I am passionate about.

And I think that is partly why I signed up.  I want to know, I want to see, what promotional offers formula companies are making.  What incentives to not breastfeed they are waving in women's faces.  

So yeah... I joined a formula feeding community.  I feel like a wolf in sheep's clothing, however I highly doubt I will ever participate in their conversations, and I have selected all e-mails to be sent to an account I use for junk.  

Sigh.... it's a dark moment.  But it makes me smile.  

(In other related new I also got a letter from the GOP soliciting a donation.  I am a registered Independent, and with liberal-green-libertarian left leaning views. So, um yeah.... this letter also made me think "really???")

Phone Calls

In the past few years I have had more phone calls that have started with - "This is So-And-So, I am calling to let you know that Your-Loved-One... has passed away, is in the hospital with food poisoning, was thrown off a horse, has fallen through a roof, has tried to - you get the idea.  Too many phone calls.  Let me rephrase, too many distressing phone calls.

So last night when the phone call began "Katie, this is Lila.  I am calling to let you know Virginia..." my heart stopped.  As she spoke I slowly walked into the other room, fearing the worse and not wanting to be around Turkey for the news.  After all Nana (Virginia) is 96, and she had been missing in action for 2 weeks, and the hospital said she had been discharged, and it was the day before the anniversary of my step-dad's passing.

Thankfully the words that followed where "is fine.  She is in a rehabilitation facility".

And breath.

I meekly asked if I could speak to her, expecting her voice to sound more frail, more distant.  Instead what I got was her, her old self her.  She sounded better than she had in months.  Maybe it was me, but she sounded down right chipper.

Then she joked, "I've had Lila calling everyone for me so they know I am OK.  Can you believe it, people where actually looking for me in the obituaries?"

Ha, I laughed.  A dry sarcastic laugh.  I too had been looking in the obituaries for her.  Would I admit this to her?  Never, so I just laughed again.

God, do I love that women.  I really hope when I am 96 I have half the energy, spunk and spark she has.  I hope I can make jokes about my own mortality.  She has lived through a lot, not just the depression and all the wars of the last century, but she's also lost two of her children (while they were relatively young) and her husband (who was also relatively young) and countless other friends and family members, and survived a house fire.  She truly is a fighter.  And while I know some day the call I had last night will go another direction I pray, everyday, that that day is a few years down the road.

Sleep Glorious Sleep

I don't require much sleep, an average amount I suppose.  Around 7 hours.  But it needs to be an unbroken sleep.

Unbroken sleep had been a pipe dream recently.  Monkey has been teething.  Four at a time kind of teething.  Four in a months time, kind of teething.  The type of teething that makes he grouchy during the day; and brings on restless sleep at night.  You get the idea.  Obviously a solid nights sleep is something I hadn't seen in many moons.

Until last night.  And it was heavenly!!!

I woke on my own accord, shortly before my alarm went off.  I thought about getting up and charging into his room to see if he was still breathing.  (Don't all moms do this?)  But I decided against it, and snuggled up to Husband pondering my very strange.

In my dream I was married to Husband, and we were hanging out at the childhood home.  All of my brother's were still alive and my parents we not divorced.  And while we were there Ben Affleck was hanging around.  He had a crush on me.  And when I wasn't running away from Ben I was talking breastfeeding with Jennifer Garner.  I gotta tell ya, I am NOT a Ben Affleck fan.  He is so not my style.  I'm more a Vince Vaughn kinda gal.  It was a very strange dream.  But at least it was a dream.  During my 7 hours of unbroken sleep.

In case your wondering I ended up waking Monkey at 6:40 to nurse him.  I was ready to explode and had to get a move on it as well before I was late for work.  Too bad things like this, his sleeping in that is, don't happen on the weekend.