I know, I know. I’ve been a little Christmas-crazy, lately. And even though the holiday has, technically, passed, I still want to talk about it just a litttttttle bit more.
Cause, you know, it was our first Christmas with Finn.
My parents were in town for the week, and we tried to cram as much holiday cheer as we could into our time together.
We started the week off by going to Christkindlmarket, which is in downtown Chicago. We’ve gone for several years–but never on the weekend and never with a baby. WHOA.
To say it was crowded would be an understatement. We literally had trouble moving, but we made the most of it, found a corner table to hijack, and ate our weigh in all things German (sausages, potato pancakes, schnitzel, pretzels, etc.). Plus, Finn’s stroller made for a good excuse for barreling through the crowds.
Finn slept through most of it, which was probably for the best. He did manage to wake up long enough for this photo with Pops. I’d assumed that they had matched by accident. NOPE. Turns out, Pops intentionally bought a hat to match his boy.
Because Mimi couldn’t stand it, Finn got to open his Christmas gift–a jumparoo–early. I’m not sure who enjoyed it more: Finn or Mimi. He’s maybe still a tad bit too small for it, but that doesn’t stop him from going absolutely BONKERS each time we put him in it. Lights! Sounds! Spinny things!
I’m pretty sure I’ll be stealing the batteries within a week. Can we just take a second to bemoan all of the peace and silence lost when babies start playing with toys?
Christmas Eve, we went for our annual dinner at Lawry’s. Finn was a champ, sitting quietly for the entire meal (even though he’d been awake for 5+ hours at that point). He enjoyed the carolers and the crowds, but he REALLY enjoyed the mashed potatoes.
We’ve been letting him taste quite a few things, lately. (More on that, later.) But I think that the enormous amount of mashed potatoes he gobbled up on Christmas Eve will go down in the books (you know–the baby books we aren’t actually updating) as his official first meal. And that suits me just fine.
After we got home, we did what any totally sane, healthy family would do: we dressed everyone up in matching PJs and posed for an obscene amount of photos.
Then, we opened stockings and started a new tradition of reading Finn ‘Twas The Night Before Christmas. That was Pops and Mimi’s idea. We all agreed that we’d practice reading that thing before next year rolls around. Who knew it was so long? Three pages in, we were all looking at each other like, “Isn’t this supposed to be a short poem?”
Christmas morning, we all woke up a little earlier than usual, even Finn. I made sausage balls and croissants, we put on the A Christmas Story marathon, and opened gifts.
Finn went first, of course.
His very first present! To be honest, I didn’t expect him to pay it any attention, but he actually ripped the paper off himself. As expected, he cared much more for the paper than the present itself (a Nogginstik).
He lasted through a couple more gifts before he was ready for a nap. So, we spent much of the morning tending to him, munching on goodies, and opening gifts here and there. I think everyone was prepared to spend the day in jammies, especially once the post-gift-and-binge laziness set in, but Sona and I really wanted everyone to rally for Christmas dinner downtown.
And we did.
Fun fact: Finn had those skinny jeans and Chucks on for about 15 minutes before we took pity on his sweet, tightly packed soul and changed him into some sweatpants.
When we got home, Sona and I threw on yet another set of matching jammies. Because, you know, one just isn’t enough.
The truth is, we’ve had these matching Hanna Andersson nightgowns for years, and we’ve always fantasized about having a little one to join in.
Even though the pajamas were so tight on Finn that we were worried we might be sterilizing him. Even though my parents had to sleep on an air mattress that was bumping into the Christmas tree. Even though there was a bit of family drama and an hour-long drive to see Christmas lights that weren’t turned on and too little sleep and a lot of “Can we stimulate him just a little bit less, please?” requests. Even with all of that, it was a really wonderful Christmas.
And now, I must go start de-Christmasing the house. (Insert sad face, here.)