Christmas at my parents’ was even more hectic and insane than I could have imagined. I was up at 5 but wanted Ray to get plenty of sleep since he’d taken the night shift, so we ended up not leaving until well after 10. I managed to get a shower and blow dry my hair — the latter of which is reserved for special occasions now — and get a non-pajama outfit on, but Holden decided after our final feeding of the morning to puke on my shoulder. No big whoop, I thought, and wiped it and him off. Except that he did it again, this time in my hair too, at which point I had to change shirts because for holidays I’ve always tried to have a one-puke limit on my clothes. And that was when I was single! (Rimshot.)
Anyway, we got to my parents’ after noon, and there was a huge spread of finger foods laid out (Ray was so grossed out by the term “finger foods” — is that a regional thing? I would feel like a phony calling them hors d’oeuvres). Holden was passed around quite a bit and Ray and I were on edge thanks to my parents’ idiot yipping dog that kept making like he was going to jump on the baby (that for some reason they wouldn’t put in the basement … grrr) but did fine except when he got hungry and wanted to nurse. It was loud — my family yell talks — and crazy and we were only there six or so hours but it made for a long, exhausting day. I didn’t even have a chance to eat any of my birthday cake, and no one got a picture of Ray, Holden, and me like I wanted. Bleh.
My sister made us a sweet DVD of photos of me and Ray as kids and of Holden. I asked her to send me the file so I can see if I can upload the little movie. It’s pretty cute. It made me cry. I am a sentimentality factory these days. Oh please, more like always.
We definitely say “finger foods” up in Michigan too. Maybe it’s a small-town-colloquialism thing? I’ve noticed a lot of similarities between smaller communities in Tennessee and in Michigan.
Since the birth of my sweet and beautiful nephew, I find myself stalking your flickr page, and now your blog, (which, shamefully I admit that I have only read a handful of times) with the mere glee factor of grasping a quick glance of baby Holden. I can’t explain the flutters and palpatations (sp?) my heart does and how my face lights up when I finally find what I am searching for. It’s kinda like I felt when I got to buy magazines as a young pre-teen to see my crush, Kirk Cameron, only I’m crushing on somebody that will actually grow to love me.
It is in these times I sit and reflect upon how surreal and awesome it is at the same time that you are a mother…YOU came from a beautiful and wholesome being, aka our mother…YOU have expressed such clarity and mindfulness within my soul that it’s almost a tease to talk about. What did that sentence mean? It’s rather pretty simple. I am awed and amazed by the simple fact that you and Ray created a beautiful and astounding priceless work of art, and the really cool thing is, the canvas continues to change.