Our Star

Patrick shone in the Abracadabra Christmas play yesterday, which took place during a sweet church service celebrating the joy of children. Each child was assigned different parts of the Christmas story (soldiers, innkeepers, donkeys, trees, etc); Patrick and his fellow munchkins were stars in the sky. At several key parts in the narrated tale, Patrick and the other stars were cued to stand up and say "twinkle twinkle twinkle." The munchkins seemed somewhat bewildered by the whole thing, but were so adorable it didn't matter. Patrick was on much more solid footing at the wrap party afterward, where he thoroughly enjoyed the treat buffet and no miniature cupcake was safe from his sticky grasp. He conked out on the short ride home, but his glittery red star shines on at the top of our tree.

Prepping for Santa

We've been decking the halls at the Thomas house. Last Sunday we put up our Christmas tree and Patrick was delighted to discover our cache of UVA and sports-themed ornaments. The bottom of our tree is now heavily weighted with a set of football helmet ornaments all placed in very close proximity. Patrick and Madeline also modeled their Christmas pajamas for me. We're ready for a visit from St. Nick!

This past weekend we accompanied Patrick to a very special Christmas party at his friend Jack's house. We ate delicious cookies, Miss Dinah read Christmas stories to the kids, and just as she finished The Night Before Christmas Santa Claus himself came down the stairs with a sackful of toys and giant lollipops for the children. Patrick got a fire truck but was far more enamored of the lollipop, which he ate for the better part of the afternoon. The whole event was such a special treat and really put us in the Christmas spirit.

So Donald and I, in a state of advanced sleep deprivation, decided it might be a good idea to go to the mall. We reasoned that Patrick could snooze on the drive over, avoiding a nap standoff that we didn't have the strength to endure, and we could possibly soak up a little extra Christmas cheer while picking up a few final gifts. That was a really, really bad idea. Parking was nonexistent, we didn't have the strength to look for gifts let alone stand in line to purchase them, and Patrick's sugar buzz lasted all afternoon (so no nap). We did however manage to get Donald and Patrick a ride on the Christmas train and Patrick made me smile by proudly waving his ticket to me as the train chugged past. Perhaps sensing my exhaustion—or attempting an even bigger Christmas haul—Patrick delivered an early present as we passed Victoria's Secret on the way out. He spotted a big blowup picture of a brown-haired model and said "dat you Mommy, dat you on that big screen." Then he repeated it loud enough for several passers-by to hear. The North Pole has been alerted.

Here Comes Santa Claus!

Christmastime in Alexandria is my favorite time of year. On Friday night we went into Del Ray for Christmas carols, the tree lighting, and a visit from Santa Claus. Most of the town's toddlers were gathered for the big event. Santa arrived with a police escort and then held office hours in a nearby yoga studio. He'd clearly had a long night by the time the Thomas children arrived (see photo). Patrick told us he was going to ask Santa for a soccer ball and was fascinated by the "candy can" that Santa gave him. When we said he had to eat a good dinner before he could have his treat he scooted his high chair over to the kitchen counter so he could look at it while he ate.
Rain and snow on Saturday foiled our plans to watch the annual Christmas Walk in Old Town, but we had fun at the local toy shop picking out "Spot," a beautiful stuffed dog who now lives exclusively in Patrick's big boy bed. We also grabbed an early lunch at Union Street—our first restaurant foray as a family. Madeline slept, and Patrick enjoyed consuming a small mountain of ketchup with his lunch.
Yesterday, we picked up our Christmas tree. Poor Patrick was so tired from refusing to nap in his big boy bed (and escaping over the baby gate we put in his doorway) that he nearly missed it. But last night he did a bit better. Donald and I can both confirm that the big boy bed is quite comfortable. Between the two of us I think we've slept in it more than Patrick. And Spot, who did stay in the big boy bed all night, earned a fun size bag of m&ms, which I intend to help him eat at lunchtime today.

The Great Crib Escape

It's a cruel irony of parenting that the week Madeline settled into one completely manageable wake-up per night Patrick figured out how to climb out of his crib. I was awake, feeding Madeline, when I heard the click of his doorknob and a flurry of little feet as he raced down the hallway into our bedroom and announced "Mommy, Daddy, I woked up!" Needless to say, no one has had a peaceful night since.

Our child-rearing books are full of completely ineffective advice: don't make the big boy bed transition with a newborn in the house (too late); transition gradually, starting with naptime (ditto); spend time making a big deal out of the bed (we did; but it didn't work). There's no advice for what to do when it's 3 a.m., you have a newborn, and your budding Harry Houdini will not stay in crib, bed, or big boy room and you are considering crawling into the crib yourself just to get 15 minutes of peace. We consulted some friends who have four children and they told us what the books just won't: sometimes you have to stand in the hallway and hold the door shut. And never, ever let them in the bed (also too late for that!). But they promised three days of the door routine and we'll be back to peaceful nights. We'll see.