The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Retail stores are telling me it's the most wonderful time of the year. Christmas trees are lit, tinsel lines windows, and despite 80 degree temperatures, store windows promise colder days ahead with darling wool jackets that are speaking my language right now. Home life, on the other hand, is not speaking the most wonderful time of the year. In the past 48 hours, I have been reacquainted with three "P's" of parenting: Poop, Pee, and Puke. I'd like to say that my reacquaintance has been solely the result of bringing a newborn into the house, but it's not. My three-year old still has accidents, and the accidents seem to be more intentional than not these days. I've been peed on, pooped on, and puked on. Twenty-four hours between showers is far too long, but a shower a day is the best I can manage.

GiGi eats every two hours at night. And, her brother still sleeps with me (we're still putting the functional in dysfunctional--it's the only way we can get a reasonable night's sleep). In short, I am exhausted, smelly, and crossing my fingers that at some point in the next few weeks, I will lose the spare tire around my waist--currently I suffer from jiggle belly, but much to RJ's relief, my belly button has returned.*  I have been cross with my little boy and seen the way he deflates when I am.

A few days ago, we ventured through Sears. And the elves had visited. Trees sparkled. Fluffy "snow" covered the ground (with polyester puffiness seen only in Christmas claymation specials), and the animatronics were in full force. As usual, I was on the GiGi timer (every two hours--no more--perhaps less, but definitely no more). So, I tried to hustle RJ through. He's a sweet boy, and he asked, "But we can look on the way out?" "Yes, yes," I replied, in a hurry.

He doesn't forget. And, on the way out, we made a trip through the Sears Christmas department. It is, in fact, the most wonderful time of the year. There is magic in an animatronic Snoopy. RJ will tell you. His eyes sparkled, and he visited each and every pre-lit tree. "Oh!" he cried, "Look at that!" It was, for a few minutes, magic.

In those few minutes, I realized that it is the most wonderful time of the year. I have a healthy little girl and a sweet, sensitive little boy. I may smell like sour milk and the three "P's," but I have a hot shower to go to every morning. I have the ability to put aside my exhaustion and find the fourth "P" of parenting: Patience. I am reminded that this most wonderful time of the year will go too fast. RJ will be six, and GiGi will be three in the blink of an eye. I know this for a fact. I saw it happen with RJ. And so, I will slow down and focus on the fourth "P." I will slow down and appreciate that RJ wants to hold baby sister every morning and every evening. I will slow down and appreciate baby sighs and snuggles. I will slow down and remember the way GiGi drapes her tiny body over my shoulder, milk drunk and satisfied. I will slow down and remember the way RJ wakes me at night to ask for a snuggle.

It is, in fact, the most wonderful time of my year.



*Just days before GiGi was born, RJ saw me get out of the shower. His reaction? "Aw man, you no have no belly button. Bummer."