Just Heather

I took Lorelai to the doctor today because her eyes are yucky. The nurse weighed her just in case the doc had to prescribe medicine. She weighs 9 lbs. 15 oz. now—that means I’ve gained 10 ounces in just 6 days. I can’t believe how fast she’s growing.

The other girls went with us too because they aren’t feeling well either. The doctor looked at her eyes and checked her out all over, landing on pinkeye. Now we have to put drops in her eyes every day. And by we, I mean him.

We came home from Thanksgiving with colds—every last one of us. Now, when my family gets a cold it hangs around for weeks at a time and usually creeps into something else. At least once a year we have a month long illness drama.

Stacia’s cold typically settles into a sinus infection. Brenia ends up with ear infections. Spencer just keeps the cold for weeks on end and becomes a big, whiny baby. I typically pick up strep throat somewhere along the way.

This time there’s a bit of a twist. My cold passed through in under 2 days. Must be the vitamins. Spencer seems to have bypassed the major drama as well. Stacia is still sick and getting worse. Lorelai’s cold seems to have settled in her eyes. My poor baby is all goopy.

Yesterday I finally took the girls to the doctor—all three of them, just to be safe, even though Brenia seemed to be missing the yucky part as well. Brenia so far still just has the cold, along with her usual allergies. Lorelai has pinkeye. Stacia has an ear infection and pneumonia. Pneumonia! How did I miss that? If I can get the girls settled into bed later, I’ll dust off a spot for my Mother of the Year trophy.

The holidays should be all about family. They should be fun and relaxing, what with not having to work and all. Instead they are stressful, tiring and full of headaches. They end up being about which in-laws you can piss off the most.

Each year we load up the car with children and presents to travel…somewhere on Christmas day. One year it’s my family, the next year it’s his. It’s tiresome, but the one year we attempted to put our foots down and go nowhere it just didn’t work out. We ended up going to his grandmother’s house—in our pajamas—anyway. On a full year, we have 6 rounds of Christmas in addition to our quick morning at home after Santa has visited.

This year Round 1 is this weekend. Despite the fact that it is 2 weeks prior to the actual holiday, it will be my favorite. It will be calm and peaceful. No one will be rushed to get to the next location. I won’t spend the entire day wishing I were somewhere else. My children will have the opportunity to actually enjoy their gifts—and the loved ones who have provided them—instead of just watching a blur of wrapping paper fly by on our way out the door.

Christmas Eve is the worst. On a night that should be peaceful and warm, we start off at one of the coldest places on earth—my mother-in-law’s house. Then we all go to his grandmother’s house until it’s too late to enjoy leaving cookies for Santa. I never have the opportunity to sprinkle reindeer food for Rudolph with my children. I never get to enjoy reading a Christmas story in our new pajamas. We don’t sip a cup of cocoa after we’ve hung our stockings. By the time we get home they are too exhausted to do anything but whine.

It’s not that I begrudge him the opportunity to see his family. I don’t begrudge our families the time with us—or let’s be honest, our three children. I just want the opportunity to create holiday memories with my children that don’t center around the perplexing puzzle of fitting everything in the trunk. I want our own traditions, our own time as a family, and memories that my children will look back on and smile.

Lorelai is one month old today! She is now 21 1/2 inches long and weighs 9 pounds 5 ounces. I can’t believe how big she’s getting!


As my sisters and I gathered around the calming vibrations bouncy seat to ooh and ahh over Her Royal Cuteness, middle sis proved she is, indeed, a natural blonde. We’re all silently admiring the beautiful sleeping baby when she suddenly blurts out, “I wish I had a vibrator!”

You know what she’s getting for Christmas.