Scenes from a weekend #57 (and Christmas!)

So, if you celebrate Christmas, remember when you were a kid and you were lying in bed on Christmas Eve, trying to stay awake, listening for Santa, jumping-out-of-your-skin excited about Christmas morning? You woke up in the morning and Santa had nibbled on the snacks you left and there were new presents under the tree and you couldn’t quite believe it actually happened – Santa was here! And he knew what you wanted for Christmas!

And then at some point you realize Santa is a myth and then you’re tackling Christmas shopping with all the stress of ‘What will be the perfect gift?’ And then you grow up even more and now it’s traveling on Christmas and ‘What shall we bring?’ or even, ‘How am I going to prep and cook it all on Christmas Day?’

Well, the beautiful news is that when you have your own kids, you get to relive all that special believing magic of Christmas through your own little people’s shining, excited faces and insistence upon reading ‘The Night Before Christmas’ four times in a row on Christmas eve before they “go to sleep” <– euphemism for bounce around like a crazy person until you find them passed out on the floor in the middle of their room on your way to bed. This is the first year Roman has really, truly been excited about it all and it was wonderful.

Christmas Eve

It was a drizzly, soggy Christmas Eve for most of the day here. A few puddles don’t stop us, though. In fact, we revel in them!

After dinner, Roman helped put together a snack tray for Santa and the reindeer. We asked what he wanted to leave for Santa and he replied, “Beer and a bagel.” We had the beer, but no bagel, so he agreed to compromise and leave some pistachios instead.

After he was FINALLY asleep (following countless requests for water, a snuggle, ‘could I just come out and see if Santa’s snacks are still there?’) we enjoyed a Christmas eve tradition of a little Die Hard on TV. 🙂

By the way, that photo in the center is one of the best things in the world for bedtime – it’s a projector of stars and a galaxy for the ceiling. A friend of ours gave it to us when Roman was little and we’ve just recently discovered its perfect use. At bedtime, we switch it on, read stories, turn out the lights and it keeps him occupied until he falls asleep by himself. It really has made such a difference in how quickly he goes down at night.

Christmas Morning

Probably thanks to the massive excitement of the night before, we were treated to a 7:30am sleep in! Unheard of! Then it was action stations on gift unwrapping.

Then some delicious breakfast, a trip to the playground, Skype with my parents in Australia and that night we had a lovely roast dinner for the three of us. I forgot about dessert again (what is it with me dropping the ball on dessert??) so Roman had some ice-cream.

The Weekend

Grandma spent Christmas with our extended family upstate, but she made the trip to Brooklyn for lunch on Saturday. Roman was excited to see her (and open more presents, natch) and then we had a delicious Greek lunch before heading home for nap time.

An Anniversary

Saturday was also the anniversary of the day 4 years ago, when Fran was finally taken out of his coma and off the ventilator, following  a freak illness that none of his doctors actually believed he would survive. Fran visits the ICU staff every year around Christmas to say hello and thank them again for saving his life. This year I couldn’t make it, since I was home with the little one napping, but it was an emotional and happy visit for Fran as usual.

And now for a little bitching session to cap the weekend review off…

In terms of working out, not a lot got done. I’ve actually not been feeling great the last few days. I’ve had some ridiculous heartburn (like waking me up in the middle of the night kind of painful heartburn, like I am no longer drinking coffee heartburn), the sciatic pain came back and I’ve just been feeling super pregnant.

By Sunday, I decided that not exercising enough over the holiday was probably contributing to feeling crappy, so I went to a spin class. While the workout felt great (and it was a good workout), the teacher made me really mad.

As soon as the warm up was done, she looked right at me and said, “Are you okay?” I was kind of taken aback, because it was the warm up – I was barely breathing heavy and neither was anyone around me. Then it dawned on me that she was asking because I was pregnant, so I replied, “Oh, yeah, I’m totally fine, don’t worry.” Then, in the space of a 45 minute class, there were 5 or 6 more occasions when she singled me out, in a ‘concerned’ way. Along the lines of, “Okay, let’s switch up the gears and start climbing, then we’re going to do a series of jumps. Unless you’re pregnant, then just stay in your seat.” Ummm, excuse me?? Or another time, “Now we’re going to be sprinting for 45 seconds, with 30 second rests. Except for you – no sprinting.”

Look, I get if you’re a fitness instructor, you can’t do one-on-one attention to everyone in the class, so a pregnant woman might be someone you notice. But if it was me, as a fitness professional, I would swing by that pregnant member privately and say, “Hey, go at your own pace, I’m going to be pushing the class, but if there’s anything you don’t feel comfortable doing, then just back it off and do what feels right for you. Let me know if you need any help during the class.” Then I would just leave her alone.

Am I being too sensitive? What would you do if you were an instructor and had a pregnant woman in your class? Is it so uncommon to see pregnant women working out? 

Anyway, apart from that incident, it was such a lovely break. It was fun to spend our last Christmas as a little family of three at home and enjoy Roman’s excitement over the holiday.

What did you get up to for the holidays?

Parents, what makes bedtime easier for you? (this can’t be the only kid who resists going to bed like it’s a disease!)