I am far too exhausted and wine-hazy for any kind of narrative, so please be content with these holiday snapshots and tidbits until I recover. I can't promise anything better anytime soon; we're off to the in-laws tomorrow for a few more days of decadence, so I will be even wine-hazier, plus I'll be dealing with dial-up. Oy.
Christmas was pretty special this year. Before Cakes, I hated the holiday and bemoaned the stress and commercialism. I was always happy when it was done and over with for another year. But this year she was so aware of everything going on; so happy to see almost everyone she loves in a five-day period; so thankful for this magical person called Santa who fills her giant stocking with Dora crap:
I think my most poignant moment this week was Christmas night, when during our final cuddle, she, unprompted, looked skyward and said, "thank-you Santa".
Oh, scratch that, maybe it was Christmas Eve, when I asked her to choose her bedtime story, and for the first time, out of a selection of probably 100 titles, she chose The Polar Express
, the book McHotty gave her on Christmas Eve last year. Doesn't that give you a tingle? By the way, in case you don't know, I'm not the type of person who ever says things like, "doesn't that give you a tingle?"
Cakes loves her cousin so much. She talked about his coming days before the actual event. And it was a real testament to him when she said not a word about the brand new red wagon they played with all day going to his house instead of staying in hers:
I was in the holiday spirit so much, I didn't even mind when my father presented Cakes with a very realistic miniature dairy farm with 807 tiny plastic pieces:
And I didn't blink an eye when my mother presented her with a giant Dora blanket:
I was so gratified with Cakes' delight when her favourite neighbours, one of each side, came over to give her a Christmas hug and presented her with the perfect gifts for my little fashionista: a black faux fur vest from one, and a hot pink Dora jacket with a fur collar from the other. She immediately donned her new duds and did a little twirl in front of the full-length mirror. If she's like this at 2, what the hell are we in for? Where did this come from?
But ultimately, she takes after her mother--her favourite gift was her big girl underwear:
Though I don't run around topless so much these days. At least not when there are cameras present.
This is your toddler on blueberry pie:
This is your toddler on a big plate o' whipped cream:
Hey, if there's any time to be indulgent, this is it.
Hope you all had a wonderful holiday!