Geez, where to start? The holiday, I guess. At 11 months old, we really weren’t sure if Sam would be old enough to enjoy her first Christmas. Boy were we wrong. We three opened our gifts to each other and from my family on Tuesday night before leaving for St. Louis, and Sam got into it. At first she seemed to think it was just a chance to rip up paper, but soon the gifts started piling up and she was laughing and flapping her arms so hard I thought she was going to pass out. The new toys infatuated her, but her favorite thing turned out to be romping through the wrapping paper. Also, there were bubbles.
And as expected, Sam made out like a little, incontinent bandit. Clothes, books, and more from Nana and Grandpa Madigan, leather slippers and toys from Aunt Shawn and Uncle Brent, and toys toys toys from Mom and Dad. And on Christmas morning the giving kept on going with more toys and a toddler-sized car seat from Grandma and Grandpa Sommer. I, on the other hand, got an electric nose hair trimmer.
(Actually, I’m being unfair for the sake of a joke. I got lots of great geek toys –more than I deserve– which I’ll talk about another time.)
Sam and I gave Ger something I think is kind of neat: a picture frame with four pics of Sam in it. The pictures are black and white, except for one object, which is in color. It’s even more saccharin sweet than the Christmas Card we sent out.
I also have to pause a moment and comment on one of the books that Nana gave Sam. It’s called “I am a BABY!”. Not “I’m a baby” or even “I am a baby.” No, the book boldly declares that “I am a BABY!” For some reason this totally cracked me up, as I kept putting “By Ayn Rand” at the end and imagining opening it up to find pictures of pudgy little babies bucking society’s conventions and removing the twin yokes of tradition and organized religion. Then crapping themselves. As you can see, it has already caused the light bulbs in Sam’s little head to go off.
Anyway. Wednesday morning we got on a plane and flew to St. Louis to visit Ger’s family. Sam did fine on the flight. On Christmas Eve they had their big family gathering, and Sam was, appropriately, the center of attention in her new Christmas dress. Which Geralyn bought despite the fact that she would only ever wear it once in the history of mankind. Sam made the rounds with the rest of the family until I came back from getting an appetizer to find her drinking a Busch Light, smoking a cigar, and rolling her eyes at every mention of that awful Bill Clinton. I think she was chewing on some communion wafers, too. Yes, this is the dominant composite image I have of Ger’s family, and I love each and every one of them.
Let’s pause for some pictures, of which there are many. More update after that.
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Done clicking? Good.
Christmas night brought slightly classier festivities when Ger’s godparents took us to the St. Louis Club for the annual Christmas feast. Now, the St. Louis Club is pretty ritzy. I had to wear a tie and they don’t serve nachos. Also, if a waiter offends you I think you can have him killed. By lions. Sam wore her other Christmas dress, which Ger also bought, despite the fact that Sam would only ever wear it once in the history of mankind. And no, before you ask, she couldn’t have just worn the first dress again. What are you, stupid for even asking?
Sam was the only baby in the whole place, but she did well and got to sample all kinds of stuff from the buffet: smoked salmon, grilled vegetables, Jell-O, fresh-baked breads, and fruits. Apparently, though, she thinks fresh raspberries and cream is the most vile culinary abomination ever. No accounting for taste, I guess.
Our time between parties was usually spent just kind of lounging around the house, playing with our new toys. Or in Sam’s case, some really old toys. Ger’s parents unearthed some of her old Playskool Blocks for Sam to play with. These are just awesome wooden blocks of various sizes that you can build with. They don’t appear to be made any more, probably because they killed some kid by not being tied in with a cartoon or movie. But Sam loved them. Specifically, she loved knocking down whatever I build out of them, as shown in this time-lapsed photography:
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In the third picture, imagine her squealing in triumph just before throwing down the final bones of my creation. She’s been reading too much “I am a BABY!” I think.
I’m probably forgetting a ton of stuff, but I’ll just have to make separate posts about it later after I remember it. I’ll also post more pictures from the Seliga Christmas party and our dinner at the St. Louis Club.
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