Although Clementine was with us and free of the womb this time last year, she was just a little precious lump of a baby, hardly a sentient being. She had her first Christmas and saw her first snowfall, but these firsts were not much different in terms of leaving an impression than hearing a bell ring or wiggling her fingers--everything was new, so there wasn't really any distinction. This year it has been a delight to see all the changes of the season through her eyes, watching as she discovers with wonder things like Christmas lights and cold wind. A few weeks ago the white trash decorating contest began in my neighborhood as a few of my neighbors dragged every light-up invention they owned out onto their lawns in the 60 degree weather and set up competing winter wonderlands. Clementine was very impressed.
On the last warm day of the fall we took her in her wagon around the block to look at the various light displays, and with each one she shouted "Yay!" and began to clap (this is the same reaction we get when we pull in the driveway at the end of the day, when we arrive at a store or when she sees her dad). When we got back to our house, she got out of the wagon and decided to go for a closer inspection of our neighbor's displays. This naturally lead to dancing with the inflated animals to the tune of their generaters humming in the night. She is especially fond of all the little penguins, although Santa in the Nascar (I kid you not--they just keep getting tackier and more cliche) is also very popular.
Her enthusiasm is infectious and exacerbating the surge I felt in Christmas spirit last year when I was shocked to discover how into the holiday I was for the first time since I still believed in Santa Claus and really wanted him to bring me a Miss Piggy tiara and a purple bicycle (I got the bike). After years of cynically eschewing Christmas trees, holiday music and decorations, I found myself excited to start our own family traditions, especially since I could add to them a twist or two that would make the holiday more our own. We put up a red tinsel tree with black trim and loaded it with ornaments (none of the proliferation of cheesy “Baby’s First Christmas” ornaments we received), went out for Chinese food on Christmas Eve, danced in our jammies to bad ass Christmas tunes instead of the churchy ones and hung out just the three of us. This year I've been eyeing an even bigger tree (last year's is falling apart) and can't wait to hang the stockings I've made. We put up our own lights outside (alas, nothing inflatable but I think C will live) and even put some decorations on our mantle.
But before the holiday comes the snow, and while the rest of the midwest was getting buried early in the weekend, I was bummed we saw hardly a flake. Early Sunday morning on our way home from our weekly breakfast at Club Bart's, however, there were great big flakes falling from the sky, and Clementine let out her heartiest "Yay," clapping in such total delight it seemed her face might beam right off her head. She had to bend over a little from such excitement, and it was truly amazing to watch her literally discover and understand what the snow is, where it comes from, what it feels like and how quickly it melts. We sat in the parking lot for 10 minutes watching her try to catch the flakes as she repeated to herself snow, snow, snow (it sounded a little like "no" but sweeter), and it was one of the most sublime and happy moments I've had as a mother. I can't quite put it into words.
The whole weekend was full of stuff like that--she is growing by leaps and bounds by the minute it seems, moving in such unexpected and interesting directions that she sometimes catches us completely off guard. Like at dinner last night when she held her sippy cup out to me again and again saying something that sounded like shoes or even juice. Where did she learn that? we wondered. We don't give her juice. But C shook her head at us and became even more emphatic until she reached over and hit her cup against mine and said it again. Cheers? I asked. Yup, cheers. What can you say in the face of that?
3 comments:
I imagine you say, "Cheers." Or, "Salut." And, to yourself and whatever powers that be, thank you, and thank you. No? (It's what I'm saying, after reading this great piece.)
Oh my god! Isn't it amazing when it seems as though she's just babbling in her sweet language and then you realize she's really saying WORDS that have appropriate meaning?!! What a sweet little angel. And, dude: the snow is nice but is f-ing freeeezing here! Ramona's been singing about the snow (my favorite holiday movie is "White Christmas" so we're teaching her the "Snow" song that they sing in the train on the way to Vermont- have you seen that movie?!). The lights are amazing and outrageous here, too. Though, thankfully, no NASCAR. Just oppulence!
Today Ramona said "Sorry, mama" after we bumped into each other. What the...that came out of left field because her favorite words are currently "No" and "mine" along with "pretzel" and "cracker." So nice to read about your joys!
You never asked Santa for the Miss Piggy tiara.
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