Monday, December 20, 2010

I don't want a lot for Christmas...just some milk, actually.

So, my munchkin's first Christmas has come and gone I'm pondering what a huge deal we made over it. She'll never remember it. Hell, I'll probably never remember it except for the photos. And, yet, there's that excitement of baby's first Christmas which is inextricably linked with the consumerist perspective that drives the holiday season. I didn't do anything for her this year. I figured we'd take lots of photos of her surrounded by presents, etc and move on. I mean, she won't even care about Christmas until she's about 4. And then my mother went nutso bananas for Carrie's first Christmas:

- monogrammed needlepoint stocking
- enough toys to last until next Christmas
- boutique baby clothes
- books, books, and more books (ok, this one I'm actually totally cool with)

My parents even bought her presents for me to wrap and address from "Santa," because I hadn't gotten her anything. Whoa. She got a new Christmas dress (ok with this one, too, since it was for portraits) and a new Christmas outfit. We spent hours celebrating, eating and opening presents. And, in the midst of it all, what really mattered fell by the wayside.

I didn't get to take her to Christmas Eve service at church. She got way off her routine and didn't eat a whole meal for three days (don't worry, I ate plenty for both of us). She wasn't sleeping well at night or napping much during the day. Basically, it was a nightmare. And now I'm afraid that this is how I'll remember her first Christmas: as the pounding ache in my head on Christmas morning as she screamed in my face out of sheer frustration. Gross.

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