So long, 2008. It's been fun.

January

February

March

April

May

June

July

August

September

October

November

December

Nothing in the world is more beautiful.

(though the boogery nose needs a wiping.)

Turns out it really IS better to give than receive.

Santa came to our house last night because this morning was the only morning all three of us would be home and together as a family. As soon as Eliot was in bed last night I stuffed his stocking full of goodies, Eli brought up the tricycle we'd been hiding in the basement and put it under the tree, and we wrapped his other presents.

I was so full of anticipation last night, wrapping presents, drinking hot chocolate, watching National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation...and I thought, ya know, it just doesn't get much better than this.

Exhibit A: stockings hung from the fireplace with care
(the white one on the end is Mumford's)



Until this morning! Eliot had come to bed with me last night; he was having a hard time sleeping. And Eli fell asleep on the couch watching Lord of the Rings. Again. He always seems to bust out those DVDs around Christmas time to rewatch the whole series. Anyway, Eliot and I woke up, and he was snuggling and chattering to me, all woolly-headed. And after a bit, I said, "Eliot, do you want to go see what kinds of prizes Santa brought you last night?" Because we had talked about Santa Claus coming and that in the morning there would be presents. But he wasn't all that interested. We walked down the hall into the living room to wake up Dad, and Eliot right away noticed through the sunroom windows the tricycle sitting under the tree. He pointed to it and looked at me questioningly. We went out to investigate. He walked round and round it, gingerly touching the streamers on the handlebars, the seat, the wheels. And when I asked if he wanted to sit on it, he nodded his head up and down and said, "uh-huh."

His feet are just barely shy of touching the pedals when they're on the rotation furthest from his foot. It won't be long before he's cruising all over the place on his own. But until then, I've a feeling I'm going to be making many many trips around the living room pushing him!

We rode into the living room, where Dad was still on the couch, and got Eliot's stocking down from the fireplace mantel. He was SO delighted with every single item he pulled out of his stocking, especially the "Chuffy" aka Thomas the Tank Engine fork and spoon. He kept yelling, Dadda, spoon! Spoon, Dadda!" and waving it in front of Eli's face. There was also a six piece wooden train set that he pulled out one car at a time, yelling "choo-choo" with the revelation of each new piece, two Chuffy sippy cups, a Backyardigans DVD, and a package of M&M's.

After his stocking was empty, he took almost as much joy in watching Eli pull goodies out of his stocking, and watching me go through mine. Some of the highlights were a zombie identification guide for Eli and a Japanese book binding kit for me. Turkey giblet dinner for Mumford. Yippee!

A little later in the morning, once we had all gotten cleaned up and dressed, we went back out to the tree for him to open his wrapped gifts from me and Eli. He got the idea about tearing the paper off the gifts immediately. When he saw his Mickey Mouse doll, he exclaimed, "Hot dog!" which of course had Eli and I cracking up.

Exhibit B: "Hot dog!"



The entire morning was almost too perfect, with Eli and I winking and grinning at each other over Eliot's head, and pulling him close to give him kisses every other minute. Like something out of an ABC Christmas special.

I called first my mom and then later my dad, to tell them both how surprised and pleased I am that BEING Santa Claus is three thousand times more fun than getting gifts from Santa Claus. Mom said, "Well, yeah, Rachel!" like this was an incredibly obvious observation that she was surprised I hadn't made sooner, "Why do you think so many parents continue to perpetuate the myth year after year? Because it's so much fun!"

It was. Folks, I'm a Scrooge no longer.

Hope all of your Christmases are just as merry and bright. :-)

Doppelganger.

Last night Eliot was pulling books off the shelf (a common occurrence). He grabbed a Janet Evanovich and ran into the kitchen to show me, pointing to her picture on the book jacket and hollering, "Ma Ma! Ma Ma!"
He thinks Janet Evanovich is his grandmother. I can sort of see what he's talking about...

Christmas, christmas time is here...

(The bottom strands of lights and garland look so low and sad because some small boy keeps pulling on them, making them ever droopier.)

l

Well, the Christmas fun is in full swing over here at the Heicher household, despite all of our end of semester, busiest time in CCU madness and stress. Almost every day, Eli's work calls wanting to know if he can pick up a shift, or, if he's already working, come in early. Nevertheless, in the last few days, we managed to make chocolate dipped pretzels, work on homemade Christmas cards, put together a green paper chain for the tree, and sip on some delicious seasonally inspired hot chocolate.



Eli made that for me the other night. Isn't it awesome looking?! AND, he's been helping me make Christmas cards. He must be wanting something special from Santa.

This evening, I'm working (again) on the Christmas cards and deeply inhaling the scent of this amazing candle, one that I believe Mom got for me from a fundraiser of some sort? It's an Ohio Valley Candle, but when I googled them I didn't see this particular scent. Darn shame, because it is DIVINE. It's some kind of vanilla peppermint, and it smells much like my beloved Peppermint Mocha Twist from Starbucks. It's taking all of my willpower not to drink the melted wax.

And if I could find my copy of It's a Wonderful Life (still packed away somewhere?), I'd totally be watching it right now.

Tasty, tasty play-doh.

We've just recently introduced Eliot to the joy of Play-doh, and he really likes it. He cuts it up and gouges it with plastic spoons and forks, mashes it into his table, and occasionally tastes it.

The first time I caught him with Play-doh in his mouth he was playing at his table and I was sitting at the big dining room table opening the mail. I glanced over at him and saw him holding something very small pinched together between his thumb and forefinger. He slowly raised it up to his mouth, and, recognizing it as a Play-doh crumb, I said, in a serious tone, "Eliot--we don't eat Play-doh!" He yanked his hand down from his mouth immediately and looked at me like, "huh? whatchyou talkin' about? i'm not doin' nuthin. just playin."

So I turned my attention back to the mail and out of the corner of my eye I could tell he was watching me. He lifted the entire chunk of Play-doh up to his mouth, slowly, sticking out his tongue to lick it, his eyes on me the whole time. I turned, trying not to laugh, and said, "Eliot, Mommy said no eating Play-doh!"

So he put it down on the table again, like it was no big deal. "Okay, whatever. I didn't really want to eat it anyway."

About a minute later, he casually got up from the table, took the Play-doh, and sauntered into the living room.

I knew exactly what he was doing, so I followed him, and sure enough, he was shoveling Play-doh into his mouth as fast as he could.

So rotten! So I had to confiscate the Play-doh that day, but he has since gotten it back and does pretty well with it.

Unfortunately, however, Eliot's Play-doh modeling skills don't come close to his Momma's. I gots mad Play-doh skills. Check out my purple snail. His name is Gary. And he' s way better than anything I've seen Eliot make so far.

`

Because fun never goes out of style.

Ah, the beloved Fisher-Price barn with its mooing door and matching silo.

We played at Grandma and Grandpa's over the weekend, setting up plastic fencing and driving plastic chickens and goats around with plastic tractors.

It's pretty cool to watch Eliot play with the same toys Eli and I had when we were kids.