Stephen's First Christmas

Today and tomorrow are likely to be watershed days in the life of my boy: his first real exposure to the consumer fever dream that is the Christmas holiday.

If you thought our apartment was cramped with stuff now, you've got another thing coming. We suspect that the boy will receive a plethora of noisy plastic gizmos, toys, and the like. We do not begrudge the generosity of our relatives; in fact, we appreciate it. We also know that Stephen, being a mere nine months in age, will probably find the wrapping paper and bows a bit more enthralling that whatever they are disguising.

So far, he's seen the decorations. He's marveled at the Christmas lights. He's yanked the needles off the tree, and he's eyed the ornaments the way that a starving man might eye a t-bone steak. Nonetheless, his innocence has been preserved.

Tonight, that is liable to change.

You see, this evening is the annual Christmas celebration at my grandparents' house. My son, as well as dozens of his cousins, will partake of the annual holiday ritual of tearing wrapping paper, throwing bows, screaming, and fussing, as we, his parents, look on in equal combinations of amusement, horror, and helplessness. Will his nine-month-old brain make the connection? Will he fully realize what is happening?

I'm sure that next year will be the really big day. By then, well on his way to two years old, he should be walking and talking. He should also be familiar with several wonderful words, namely "no" and "mine."

I'm shivering with anticipation of this. No, I am. Really.

We're pretty much done with our shopping this year. We didn't have much to spend, so we didn't really devote much to presents. I always have trouble with this; I feel if I don't spend so much that I'm completely destitute by December 24th, that I've done something wrong. I'm not sure where this feeling originates. Merck needs to create a peppermint-flavored pill that takes care of holiday guilt. For all I know, they've got one, they just won't release it for fear of the lawsuits that the department stores will ultimately bring to bear on them for lost holiday profits.

Last weekend, we went to the Wild Animal Park. Yes, again. This time, we met up with my cousins, Jeff and Christy, their spouses, Sarah and Freet, and their children, Emily and Robby. We all managed to have children right around the same time, which I find amusing. It was only a matter of time before we got them all together.

This time of year represents the Festival of Lights at the Wild Animal Park. The park stays open late, and lots of holiday light displays are erected and plugged in. Some of it's very pretty; some of it is just kind of "meh." The best part of the evening, really, was the company. The lights were secondary to the day's enjoyment.

Stephen got to go on the merry-go-round. I stood by, holding him in place. He seemed to be both frightened and interested, but not once did he crack a smile or laugh. He would look to me every so often for reassurance, while peering at the animals and riders behind him the rest of the time.

So...that's that. I'll be sure to take the camera along tonight, in order to capture the chaos of Christmas first-hand. I will likely give my full report tomorrow; lacking that, expect something on Monday.

Oh, I may as well update you on how he's doing physically.

Stephen's a healthy little guy, quite durable. He bumps his head a lot, so thank god for that DOC band. Speaking of his head, it's rounding out very well. They estimate that he'll need to wear the band for another month.

He crawls very quickly. Once he gets a destination in mind, there's no stopping him. Off he goes, like an AT-AT, hands and knees thumping loudly on the floor. He also enjoys pulling himself into a standing position. Recently, he's begun to let go of whatever he's holding onto, balancing on his own two feet for several moments before falling onto his diapered butt. He'll be walking within a month, I reckon.

The boy is also moving beyond the vowel noises of his youth. He's been making "Mah-mah-mah" noises lately, with an occasional "wah" for good measure. He feels like he weighs about twenty-five pounds, but the doctor insists that he's only 19 pounds, 2 ounces. His height? A mighty 28.5 inches.

Soon, he will conquer the world.