In which we celebrate Christmas with a bajillion calories and I learn that toddlers and babies and candle carol services don’t mix…

We had Christmas and it was good.  The presents, the people, the copious amounts of food (most of which was made with either cream or bacon…).  Matt did most (all) of the cooking; he chose a menu of untried recipes–dangerous because that can either really pay off or go very very badly.  Luckily it was the former and it was all delicious.  Roast goose with an apple-plum stuffing, red cabbage cooked with apple juice, cheese-cream-bacon-brussel sprout casserole, roast potatoes slathered in goose fat, homemade gravy, bread on the side.  We had a cheese tray for appetizers (we bought way way too much cheese), pistachios, clementines and chocolate-dipped pretzels (dark choc with roasted almonds and white chocolate with milk chocolate flakes) for snacking.  Dessert options were pumpkin pie, mince pies, Christmas pudding with brandy sauce, and homemade truffles (my first try making those–they’re pretty awesome although next time I’ll give some away or invite more people because wow we have a lot of rich food left over!  I did two kinds–dark chocolate rolled in crushed pistachios and chocolate-chili flavored ones).  Matt had also originally planned to make bacon-wrapped cocktail sausages to go with the meal but ended up running out of time and oven space.  So we had some today for dinner along with part of Christmas leftovers.  I am in food heaven.  And as soon as our fridge has been purged of bacon, we are so having a vegetarian week.  Maybe even month.

So, Christmas went well.  Lizzie had just three requests, “Santa bring Lizzie mango.  Play-doh.  Ice cream.”  Santa came through on all accounts (and then some!  He had a lot of helpers, too.  Thanks, family.) Lizzie got to have ice cream and beans on toast and eggs and bacon for breakfast, she got to watch part of Rulolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, a friend and the friend’s parents joined us for dinner, and Lizzie and the afore-mentioned friend jumped on the couch.  Two year old bliss!  Juliet was remarkably smiley all day, so I know she enjoyed her first Christmas, too.

And the past week, in reverse–

Christmas Eve we went to the crib service at Norwich Cathedral.

The Wednesday before Lizzie, Juliet and I went to the Christmas party at our local Sure-Start Centre.  There was a magician, and Father Christmas, and crafts and lunch.  It was a lot of fun.

Tuesday we went to London to register Baby Juliet with the American embassy and to apply for her passport.  There weren’t any taxis available when we called to book one the night before, so we all ended up walking from our house to the train station.  At 4:00 in the morning to catch the 5:00 am train.  Guess what baby woke up to eat at 1:30 am and then didn’t fall back asleep until 3:30?  Oh sleep deprivation, how do I love thee.  The ride to London made me nervous for the return trip; Matt and Ben had tickets for a later train, whereas I’d be coming back with the girls on my own, and on the ride down Lizzie was pretty active, wanting to climb on the seats and take frequent walks up and down the carriages.  Luck, however, combined with exhaustion from the early morning, was on my side and as soon as we got on the train at 2:30, Lizzie passed out in my lap.  Juju took a little bit longer to fall asleep, but by Colchester she was sacked out in the wrap and I fell asleep, too, until we woke up around Diss (about 20 minutes from Norwich).  We all three were sharing a reserved seat because our ticket was pre-booked and the train was pretty crowded, but since we slept most of the way it ended up being fine.  And Ben got to have some toddler-free London time, which was pretty fine for him, too.

Monday Lizzie finally had her eye appointment out at the hospital.  As it stands now her eye is looking much much better, but the ophthalmologist is referring us on to the next person to look into surgery with the feeling that if things continue to improve as they have been, she won’t need it, but they’ll make that assessment next time she goes in based on what change (if any) they see between the appointments.  He mentioned that she’s too old now for the simpler surgery (a thin metal probe in the duct), and would need something slightly more invasive.  I’m so loving the GP who told us they don’t like to refer kids until they’re 3 years old.  Not.  But Lizzie did a great job with the doctors, letting him look in her eyes and shine lights around.  She also had an eye exam and passed without any problems, so we know her blocked duct and subsequent infections haven’t affected her vision at all.

And last Sunday Ben got here, 10 hours later than anticipated, but safe and (exhausted) sound.  We had a miniscule amount of snow in Norwich that morning, so his flight from Amsterdam got post-poned, then cancelled.   Then he got re-routed to an evening flight via… Edinburgh.  But he made it!

And Sunday I tried taking the girls to the evening carol service at the Octagon.  It seemed like a good idea at the time.  Sure, the original plan was for everyone to go (Ben was slated to arrive at 9:15 am and the service was at 6:30 pm, but with his delays he didn’t land until around 7:15 pm so Matt stayed home to welcome him). Sure, Lizzie had been in an off mood all day.  But hey, I’d taken them both out on my own to libraries and playgroups before.  Matt and I took the girls to a movie and Lizzie sat through the whole thing.  This would be easy, I thought.  No sweat.  Juliet will sleep in the wrap the whole time, Lizzie will be awed by the candles and singing.  It will be lovely and Christmassy.  Cue the ominous music here, please.  Because things didn’t exactly go as planned.

I made it out the door with the girls.  We considered taking a bus because it was pretty cold out, but on Sunday the buses are few and far between and we didn’t make it out the door in time to take one.  So I walked with Juliet in the wrap and Lizzie bundled up in the stroller.  The pavement was a bit icy, but with a buggy to lean on we didn’t have any problems getting to the church.  Once there I found a spot for the stroller and got us all settled into a pew with a few minutes to spare.  A couple of people came over to greet us and check out the baby; Lizzie was quietly looking around at the people and the candles that were being lit.

And then things began to go downhill… Juliet woke up, but she didn’t want to eat.  She wanted to bounce.  So I stood and bounced her while Lizzie stood next to me on the pew.  We opted out of having our candle lit (two year old and open flame?  No thanks!) and a friend loaned us the use of his torch (flashlight) instead.  The lights went down, the singing and reading began.  The church looked gorgeous, all candley and Christmassy.  The readings between songs were meant to be holy and contemplative; the choir and the soloists were beautiful.  And… Lizzie started to get antsy.  She wanted to talk in a loud voice when the readings were happening.  At one point the reader mentioned baby Jesus and Lizzie loudly responded, “Baby Juliet!”  She tried kicking the front of our pew, then walked up and down in her loud boots.  She took the unlit candle and beat it on the wood like a drumstick.  Juliet wanted to bounce some more.  She started to get fussy during one of the solos.  Then she wanted to eat.  Lizzie wanted a snack, so I got out some pretzels.  She started to get upset because she didn’t want THAT snack; I managed to calm her down before a complete melt down.  A few minutes later she changed her mind and did want the pretzels… which she spilled all over the ground.  In the dark.  And then stepped on accidentally.  With her loud boots.  “Crunch crunch, stomp stomp!”  Lizzie got a hold of the flashlight and started to play with it, waving it around and creating a strobe light effect for the poor person sitting behind us.  And while Jules was eating, the front of my shirt got completely soaked as my milk let down, missing the nursing pad completely.

All in all, complete disaster.  Elizabeth was becoming increasingly stir-crazy, so when everyone stood up for an all-congregation song, we beat a hasty retreat, leaving a pretzel crumb littered pew in our wake (it was too dark to see the pretzels, but I knew they were there, crunching underfoot).  I tried to get on our many layers of coats and wraps and blankets in the foyer before the song finished, but we failed at that and made our escape to the tune of a loudly wailing baby.  Juliet cried half of the way home before falling asleep, Lizzie was annoyed at having to ride in the stroller and wanted to run.  I was upset at what a complete failure it had been and about ready to cry myself.  The walk in the cold helped cool all three of us down, in more ways than one, and by the time I got home I could almost laugh about the experience.  I spent part of the walk home wondering what horrific sins I committed in a former life to deserve this and the other half mentally composing a blog entry about it all.  Which I didn’t get around to writing until today, but there you go.

So.  It’s not always awesomely easy with two.  And it really makes me appreciate when everything goes smoothly because oh baby, do I know what it’s like now when it doesn’t!

Finally, Merry Christmas, y’all!  We have a card that has now become a happy new year card (even though it says “Merry Christmas” on it) that we’ll hopefully get sent out either by post or e-mail in the next couple of days.  But until then, merry merry!

 

UPDATE: I hit “publish” without re-reading because Juliet woke up and wanted some love.  Hope I didn’t sound too negative on the last bit.  I should clarify–this was one failed outing that blindsided me mainly because it was a very different setting than what I’d taken the girls to on my own before.  It wasn’t the end of the world and even in retelling it to Matt and Ben that evening I was laughing at the situation.   I wrote about this experience in more detail because it was like Murphy’s Law incarnated in the guise of a two year old.  And I always roll my eyes at movies where the children run a muck and the parent looks on helplessly, but, people, stuff like that can totally happen.  In the dark.  With candles. 

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