Christmas, Quarantined

December was rather hard on our immune systems.  It started out with that nasty stomach virus, which took us all down when our dryer was (predictably) down, too.  We recovered from that in time for Kathleen's birthday party.  (A recovery for which we are exceedingly grateful, because just try to imagine explaining to a four year old that the party is off because of germs.)  But just after Kathleen's birthday the children began to fall victim to a particularly virulent cold.  By the time my birthday rolled around, all four of our little people were coughing, sneezy, goopy messes.  And when their coughs deepened and made their little voices weak and raspy and their little eyes dark with lost sleep, we began to realize that we really needed to keep these germs to ourselves.

So, the day after my birthday we made a round of calls, cancelling on the friends we'd invited to share dinner on Christmas Eve.  We called Nan and Grandpa, too, and bowed out of the big Christmas day celebration at their house.  We felt badly, letting people down.  And we felt badly, stealing the last (for a while, at least) extended-family California Christmas from the children.

But it was probably the smartest thing we've done in months.

For one thing, we know that no one else wanted that cold.  And we didn't have to worry about having passed it along to anyone.  We were completely guilt-free.

And, since we weren't entertaining any guests or traveling to any events, we were able to spend both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day in an almost embarrassingly relaxed manner.  Well, as relaxed as is possible, given that we have four small children.  No one slept in until noon -- or even seven-thirty -- or anything lavishly restful like that.  But we didn't hurry out of our pajamas (as you'll see!) and I didn't worry about keeping the house spotless for guests or having dinner made at the stroke of five (or whatever we'd have needed to have done to get to service on time).  Instead, we just did what we wanted to, when we wanted to.

I made an early-morning Christmas Eve run to the German bakery, for rolls and pretzels, because sickness or no, we celebrated "German Christmas" on Christmas Eve.  Meanwhile, Jim and the girls got to work on their gingerbread house.  (You'll notice that Madeline elected to wear a red, twirly dress and Kathleen opted for the nightgown handed down from her cousins.  Whatever, kids!)

This year's gingerbread house had some structural issues, but it managed to stand somehow.  Mostly, anyway.  And everyone was happy about that.

After naptime we made some pinecone ornaments I'd been hoping to try.  We sorted through old crayons and melted a bunch of green ones and dipped the pinecones in them, and they came out quite nicely, though I totally failed to take photographs...

We baked some cookies, too, having eaten our way through the ones we'd made for Kathleen's preschool class Christmas party and for her birthday party.  (We all like eating sugar cookies, you see.  And our children seem to love making them.)

Kathleen lost interest in the cookie-making part way through, and left to play in the backyard with her brother.   We'd bundled him up and (lovingly) pushed him out the door, because he's just dangerous to have around when you're trying to do anything in the kitchen.  See?  Here's what happened when he wandered back in:

Nice.

Shortly after the cookies were finished, we served up our German Christmas supper -- delectable fresh Nurnberger bratwurst with rolls and pretzels, some nice, gooey kasespatzle (which Jim declared our best yet!) and some salat.  We ate by candlelight and Christmas tree light and Kathleen even donned her angel costume for us, and performed her own version of the nativity play.  We finished off the meal with some German chocolate and a walk to our neighbor's house to admire their extensive Christmas decorations.  (Seriously, extensive is the only word I can think of to describe our neighbor's house.  It's across the street from our house, directly out our "dining room" window.  Life here ground to a halt each night when the lights were turned on there.  Our children were mesmerized!)

We returned home to open up new pajamas (our traditional Christmas Eve gift), try them on, check NORAD's Santa Tracker, and tuck everyone into bed.   Kathleen was particularly taken with the Santa tracker and interrupted us every minute or so to ask, "Where is he now?  Will you check?  On the computer?  Please?"  Even while we prayed!

And eventually everyone slept, so that our house could look like this...

Colds or no, our home felt warm and happy that night.  What joy!  What blessings!

the big birthday week, continued. . .

As you may or may not know, the week leading up to Christmas is an especially crazy time at the circus. I mean, it's a bit wild for everyone, what with Christmas pageants and rehearsals, cookie baking and decorating, present purchasing and wrapping, cleaning and all the other activities that lead up to the big celebration on Christmas. But for us, it's also a birthday week! We had a birthday party, obviously, and celebrated that same birthday again a few days later. A few days after that, we celebrated my birthday. And a few days after that, it was Christmas! (Really, it's a whirlwind of a week. Like things aren't whirlwindy enough around these parts. And yes, I just made up that word.)

Daddy and the children worked hard to make sure my birthday was a special day.  I was allowed to lie in bed in the morning, until Luke wouldn't have it anymore.  We opened presents, including new coffee (the commissary stopped carrying the decaffeinated kind for my special little coffee maker) and new music and new clothes.  The girls were especially excited to give me my gifts -- they'd picked them out themselves and had been brimming with excitement about them!  Chief among the gifts was the one that makes this post possible -- a brand new iMac.  We were all rather giddy about its giant screen and speedy operation.  Hopefully you'll be seeing more consistent posts from me because of it.  (No promises, though.  Writing time is hard to come by.  Time is in short supply in general!)

Later that afternoon, Nan and Grandpa arrived.  They were a critical part of a plan that Jim and the girls had hatched together.  Nan and Grandpa had sweetly agreed to stay with Luke and John David so that Jim and my girls could take me out to a "grown-up dinner."  The girls were extremely excited about this plan -- and that excitement comes through in these photos we snapped of them (with a dying camera battery) before we left.

"Oh," says John David, "A picture?  I'd better get over there!"

A random, funny story about the dinner planning.  Jim was talking to the girls about it and asked, "Madeline, if we take Mama out to a special, grown-up restaurant, do you think you can be a big girl so that you can come?"  Madeline cocked her head to the side, thought for a long while, and then said with a sly little smile, "Yes.  But if I hafta go potty, I'm gonna go right on the floor!"  And then she laughed.  And so did everyone else.  She was quite proud of herself for her little joke.  (And we have to admit, it was funnier than the knock-knock jokes she makes up!)

Our "grown-ups plus big girls night" was lovely.  We had a delicious dinner at Scott's Seafood (salmon!  sea bass!), picked up ice cream cupcakes from Cold Stone Creamery, drove past the Christmas lights on a sweet little street in Palo Alto, and then headed home to share the cupcakes with John David and Nan and Grandpa.  Luke, of course, settled for milk.

The day was everything that a birthday should be -- sweet and special and relaxing (well, as relaxing as things get around here, anyway).  What a blessing to spend the day with my thoughtful husband, sweet girls, and darling, rowdy little boys.

f i v e

And now you are five, Kathleen.

As your godparents and our dear friends pointed out in a letter to you, it's a "big girl age." It's true.  You're not a toddler anymore. You're barely a preschooler. You are, indeed, our big girl.

And not just a big girl, you're the big sister -- the biggest sister. And that is a role you love. You take pride in telling me, "It's okay, Mama, I'll watch the littles!" The day after your birthday you solemnly announced that, now that you're five, you're big enough to change Luke's diapers. You've recently begun "reading" to John David; it makes me smile to think of you, with him on your lap, reciting That's Not My Monkey. And though you and Maddie squabble (as sisters will do -- ask any of your aunties!), you're the first to miss her when you two are apart.

We celebrated your birthday with a party befitting such a big girl: a winter princess party.  You were emphatic about the theme.  Though we'd talked about a superhero party or a matryoshka doll party, you knew what you wanted: a winter princess party and a new winter princess dress.  We were only too happy to deliver (especially since we snagged the dress on ebay for a song).

Your party was sweet and slightly chaotic (because that's how we roll, dear girl) and perfect for you.

You and your friends and cousins decorated a snowman.  (Your daddy designed and cut out all those pieces after midnight the night before your party.  How he loves you, little girl!)

And you decorated princess paper dolls, complete with fluffy, minky trim and stick-on jewels.

And read a story -- The Snow Princess, also your selection.

And then we painted cookies.  You and I had mixed and rolled and cut out and baked angels and snow globes.  You and your friends decorated them with a rainbow of colors.

John David is a force of nature and we worried about him getting into the paper dolls.  Or, even worse, the brightly colored frosting.  In fact, Daddy and I set up the decorations and supplies for your party the night before, and whisked everyone out the door first thing in the morning for a special breakfast at Hobee's.  We said it was to celebrate, but really it was to contain your little brother!  Miraculously, he was perfectly behaved.  And even though he didn't snag a spot at the table with the "big kids," he didn't seem to mind.

There were snacks, of course, and presents.  And a cake.  (White.  With snowflakes.)  With five -- five! -- candles.

What fun to celebrate you, Kathleen.  In fact, it was so much fun that we celebrated again, two days later, on your "actual" birthday.  (You love the word actual"!)  We marked the day with a trip out for your favorite supper (Chinese) and leftover cake with new candles.

Your Daddy and I are constantly amazed at the way you've grown -- at the things you can do and remember and understand. You're clearly your own person, Kathleen, and I can't begin to explain what joy it brings us to watch you become more and more yourself.  We hope your every wish comes true.

Love,
Mama and Daddy