First Christmas / Eight Months


It’s 2am and I can’t sleep. The little bear is back in our room after a week long cold that’s led me to watch over him like some kind of mama hawk in case he coughs his tiny guts up and gags yet again. December seemed to be full of poorliness.

Christmas has been and gone, as has 2014. The big day itself was a lovely whirlwind of wrapping paper and obligatory over-indulgence; smoked salmon for breakfast, delicious bourbon cocktails for bedtime and Evie and Sammy enjoying hundreds of gifts in between (thousands might be more accurate). He’d been awake much of the night, turning the whole day a little fuzzy, but it didn’t matter. Aside from a walk to the river and back to trial Evie’s new scooter, we weren’t going anywhere. It was a good call to stay at my parent’s house rather than at home as originally planned.

Santa got the change of address and delivered Sammy a ball pit – reasoning that it would be good for capturing him and Louis when his mama starts to take care of them together this month. Much of Christmas day was spent dipping in and out of it with Evie.  Now we just need to work out how to upsize our property to accommodate the beast. Heaven knows what all those colours will do to my health. Oh lordy!

From Buddy, Sammy received a pull along dog, who is fast becoming a favourite. His Nain and Taid gave him a Brio walker, which he is better at sitting in so far. Papa needs to fix it so it doesn’t roll away so fast.

Pocky’s had a little break from standing though, as his knees have been buckling beneath him lately. Sickness swept through the family and Sammy went down along with Nain and Papa over New Years. Nain had been battling through a beastly cold since before Christmas (how she still manages to cook a giant dinner in the face of it I will never know. I often wonder how I ever qualified to be a mother). We debated whether or not to drive to Wales on 28th as planned, especially as Arctic weather had swept through the path. But New Years Eve was beckoning, as was the promise of seaside air and fir-lined walks with my Mum and Dad.

Na. It wasn’t to be. One quick stumble on the pebbles at sunset was all we managed before Sammy’s eyes crusted up, fever struck and Papa was caught by chills and coughs. We cosied up around the toasty wood stove, napped and complained about the shocking state of Christmas television for four days before coming home early… Of course we played lots of stacking cups, clapped and clapped and tried to tempt Sammy into eating, which invariably ended up in meals of petit filous and satsuma. The clapping is still his favourite game and all through the snot and tears he’d joyfully smack those sticky little palms together. We’re working on a wave but haven’t got there yet. With Taid’s tuition he graduated to swaying both arms above his head briefly… before bringing them down for a clap. It’s like they’re magnetic.

So 2014 slipped away quietly which seems slightly inappropriate for my best year yet. We just about managed to keep awake to see the fireworks burst out of the millennium wheel at midnight. I almost feel as if I want to set a new date to mark the occasion and celebrate a little. Being so run down, I haven’t had the usual feeling of a fresh start and new beginnings. Hopefully the bugs will pass soon, or maybe it just doesn’t matter. We’re still working on a pretty big new beginning after all.

 

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First Christmas / Eight Months

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