My daughter's been dragging herself around the house for the last month or so in what one friend calls the 'wounded soldier crawl' and another calls the 'commando crawl'. Yesterday, Christmas day, it finally happened-she crawled on her hands and knees! She got on her hands and knees and started rocking back and forth like she usually does, but this time, instead of falling flat, she actually moved forward, all the way across the hall! I sat in amazement, watching her and all I could think to say was, "Holy shit!" It seemed unreal, that this baby, who only five months ago didn't even know she had feet, can actually crawl on all fours across my hall! I have to say, even with everything we got yesterday and the wonderful dinner with our family, that was surely the best Christmas present of them all!
This year was the first year we had Christmas dinner at our house. In previous years, we spent the day dragging ourselves around town, trying to spend time with my dad, Brad's parents, and my mum. It's usually worked out well, Christmas Eve at my dad's, breakfast at one mom's, dinner at the other, alternating every year. It was always fine, but I always, always dreaded Christmas coming and trying to work everything out. It always seemed like my responsibility and I hated that I had to divide my time between my dad, my mom and brad's parents, and make sure everyone was happy. The guilt of leaving my mom alone on Christmas Eve combined with the guilt of leaving my dad alone on Christmas Day, does not always make the season a jolly one for me. One year, we had everything planned and Brad's mom phoned a week beforehand and wanted to switch everything and I nearly had a nervous breakdown. Brad saved the day by saying that our plans stood as they were and that his mom had no right to change things a week before. God bless Brad!
Anyway, this year, with a new baby, I was dreading this arrangement more than usual because, as anyone with a baby or small child knows, getting them ready to go out, getting them in the car, getting to your destination, unpacking everything (kid and gifts), packing everything up again, taking them somewhere else and unpacking and packing, oh my GOD!!! And trying to find time to nurse her? Forget it, so my brillant plan was to have dinner here, in our teeny-weeny house. I just couldn't decide which grandparent would have to miss Kate's first Christmas, so my plan was to make sure no one did! To complicate matters, I invited a couple my mom knows because they were alone for the first time, with neither of their daughters coming home. Which would have been fine if I had talked to Brad about it before making the rash decision to invite them. The silences I endured after I told him were not pleasant and I don't really blame him, since he isn't of the 'the more the merrier' type. I should have known, I'm not really sure what possessed me to invite them, blame it on the abnormally large Spirit of Christmas I seem to be suffering from this year. Anyway, they came and Liz made the gravy, so THAT was ok. I think Brad has forgiven me. But if anyone remembers the incident of the rabbit in the spare room, they know I'm given acting in haste and repenting at leisure. You would think poor Brad would be used to it by now!