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I did it! I completed Bella's blanket, and I'm actually pretty happy with the results! I made it bigger than I originally thought, but I'm glad it's something that hopefully she can use for a while. I hate receiving blankets because they're all so small, I really like the ones I made with Grandma and my mom, and the one Auntie Sue sent me for that reason. They're nice and big.
We wanted to not go crazy on toys for her this year, since really, she doesn't have a lot of hand-eye coordination quite yet, so we tried to do special gifts. There's a book, the blanket, a journal that I'm copying my some of my pregnancy posts in. Her daddy got her a beautiful framed photo of the two of them that we're going to hang in her room. Tonight I'm going to my mom and dad's, while Peter's working, and then coming home, moving our mattress into the living room, making some appies, and opening a bottle of wine and watching White Christmas with my two favorite people in all the world. And we'll all open our new Christmas jammies, even Bella. I'm so blessed this year. She's so perfect, and he's such a great daddy and husband. I don't care what's under the tree. I've already got everything in the world I want. Except a Kate Spade bag. I'll live.
Merry Christmas Everyone! I love you all.
I'm going to read it. I watched the movie, and I hated it. I'm sorry, maybe that's too strong. Something in me did kind of twinge as I reminisced about being young and everything being that big a deal (like I'm so calm and stable now) but seriously, if I saw one more teen heartthrob shoot a moody look across a crowded room, forest, street of a quaint town, etc etc, I was going to stab myself in the leg. It was just over the top. But a lot of people who I know and love have read the books, and said they're great. That they're so so much better. People who have similar tastes as me have said that I would love them. And not 13 year old people.
So here I go. I'm not sure if I'll quit by tonight, but I'm going to give it a fair shot. Mostly because I'm too lazy to go to the library, pay my fines, and find something else to read so close to Christmas.
Speaking of Christmas, I will put a Christmas-y post up here before the 25th. Likely of my blanket, taken with the new camera that Peter won for me at his Christmas party! I'm pleased with the blanket and plan to finish tomorrow. Gotta run, it's late and Bella needs to be medicated and snuggled to sleep. And I need to get some reading in. Wish me luck, I'm trying to keep an open mind.
To budget around the hollidays? Why? Because I'm an idiot who likes to set herself up for guilt and failure? We all know I have no math skills whatsoever. We KNOW this!
Every stinking year. Here's the thing: I'm a sucker. I'm a sucker for the perfect gift, for the perfect Christmas Eve meal. I'm a sucker for anything that would be cute for Bella's first Christmas. Here's the scenario:
Mellie is nearly done shopping for Peter. Just needs a last minute stocking stuffer and then we're done. Whilst walking through the cologne section of The Bay she comes across "Black" by Kenneth Cole. She smells it, imagines Peter wearing it, and goes a little weak in the knees. $10 stocking stuffer becomes $90 gift set. I don't just blow a Christmas budget; I annihilate them.
With Peter getting stuck in the States, and getting our car brought across the border, we do not have money to burn this year. We don't have money to spend. But I have a line of credit with a 2% interest rate and no minimum payment, since I work at the bank. So Mellie walks into the store this year, needing one more gift for Peter and gets suckered in by some pimple faced teen sales guy, who probably lives with his mother, has no overhead and no brand new baby girl who needs diapers, gripe water, and a myriad of cute sleepers on a regular basis. Of course he'd buy one of these! Of course he would! And now he can afford to, on the commission from my sale. Stupid girl.
The thing is, I am still rotating between a pair of maternity jeans and an old pair of pre-pregnancy jeans that are getting so worn out they're going to disintegrate off my unrecognizable butt. I have no pants that fit. Not one pair. I need to buy some pants. But I put it off, since honestly, I'd rather Peter have a gift under the tree that makes him light up, laugh and say "honey! what did you do?!". And really folks, I'm not going to like how I look no matter what the pants, so why put myself through the torture of figuring out what my "new" jeans size is? Why?
I have zero self control when it comes to gifts for Peter and Bella. None. Every December I resemble one of those people on TV whose finances are so out of control that they don't even look at the bills. I don't. If my checking account runs empty before payday, I transfer some money over from the line of credit and go from there. January to November, I behave. Except for birthdays, and anniversaries, that's more of the same, just not to the same degree of wanton idiocy. I swear, something happens to me in December that says, "bah, whatever. We'll figure it out in January. Think of how happy he'll be on the 25th!!"
Oh well. Merry Christmas to Peter anyway. He'll be thrilled. Until he sees the bank balance.
Last year, mommy sat in front of her Christmas tree and cried. I had been waiting for you for so long, and I felt a little hole in my heart where I knew you fit. I was afraid that hole would always be there, that you may never come.
I prayed that next Christmas I would cuddle your little sleeping body next to the tree. That's all I wanted in the whole world. I wanted you.
Sometimes when I look at you I just can't believe you exist. I can't believe how beautiful and sweet life can be, now that you're here. Falling in love with you is the most amazing, incredible feeling I've ever felt. When you wake up in the morning next to me (though we're trying really hard to get you to sleep in your own bed) and you open your big dark eyes, see my face, and smile as big as you can, I feel like nobody on earth could ever be as happy as I am. When I'm trying to sleep and I can hear you squealing and talking to Daddy, I just can't help but laugh a little, and get up, and come see what you're up to. I love to watch you learn things, and to see you get so excited when you figure out how to reach up and grab your little kitty on your playmat so that he'll sing a little song. I don't think I've ever understood the beauty of God's creation until I saw you. There were glimpses of it when I saw mountains, or the ocean during a storm, but never like this. I can't believe he created you. That your little fingers wrap around mine, that you fit perfectly in my arms, that your lungs breathe in and out, you blink, you smile. It's amazing to me just to watch you live, sleep, kick your little legs. Every movement you make feels like a miracle.
More than anything though, I love to hold you when you sleep. I love to feel your little hand crawling up the front of my shirt to find my skin, and when it rests there, you sigh and you completely relax. I love that you snuggle. I'm completely addicted to the smell of you, it's nearly narcotic. I could inhale you until I go dizzy from it. When you sleep, I close my eyes, and put my face in your neck, where I can feel your soft hair touching my cheek and breathe you in. I try not to think that one day you will be too big for me to do this. That one day, you won't need me to go to sleep. So I think of things we'll do then, that we can't do now. Play. Cook. Horseback ride. Read. When I think of you being able to wrap your arms around my neck, to hear you say you love me and Daddy, then I'm okay with you getting bigger. I can't wait for those days.
For now, we spend hours each day on our rocker, snuggling. And last night, your Daddy and I set up our Christmas tree. When you saw it all lit up, you smiled so big! And when we were all done, Daddy sat next to me, I wrapped you in a nice warm blanket, and rocked you to sleep. And I sat there and realized that I got my Christmas wish. I got you. And you're safe, and beautiful, and so desperately sweet. You've made our lives so incredibly wonderful, it's hard to know what to want for Christmas this year.
I love you so very much, my darling baby girl. So much.
