2014 Christmas Card

(Many thanks to the one and only Brooke Rainey for the card design!)

In case you haven't heard ...

... BOTH of my boys look just like their daddy.

Big BLUE Christmas

PLEASE NOTE:
This picture is not current.
It is included here purely
to emphasize the
hellishness of our nite
at UNC.

After the HELL that was last December's trip to Chapel Hill, Jeremy and I decided that we'd got to THIS year's Kentucky / Carolina game WITHOUT the boys.

Here's what happened (because I'm pretty sure that's ANOTHER post that never got written):

It was raining the day of the game. Our hotel (the Carolina Inn) was AWESOME, and although I'd called ahead to confirm that there'd be a shuttle from there to the game, we had NO.IDEA how full that shuttle would be - or that we'd have to wait through stand still traffic to ultimately be dropped off more than a block away from the Dean Dome.

Finally, we got in. We climbed to our seats, which were on the VERY LAST ROW (that is NOT an exaggeration), and while they were GREAT seats (I'm a "just-get-me-in-the-building" kind of fan who could care less where my seats actually are), I was nine months pregnant and climbing more than the short step into my bathtub turned me into a one-woman wind machine.

The fact that a picture this bad is the best I could get on the
trip should've been my first clue to just call it a nite.

Just after the ball was tipped, Jones started to freak out. No. Scratch that. He started to FREAK.OUT. Like he had never FREAKED.OUT before. So I took him out into the concourse where he proceeded to FREAK.OUT INCONSOLABLY for the first 17 minutes (clock time, not actual time) of the game. He'd never done anything even remotely like this, so I had no idea how to handle it. Whatever I DID do, though, didn't work.

So I'm in the concourse of the Dean Dome - a woman nine months pregnant carrying a fourteen month old who is not only freaking out but who also refuses to walk - and finally, I gave up. I walked to the entranceway of our section - no way in Heaven I was walking up those stairs again. Because cell phones next to never work in stadiums, I was forced to communicate the old fashioned way. I made eye contact with my dad and motioned that Jeremy needed to come down and meet me. When he did, I told him that I was going to head back to the hotel, because Jones was a train wreck. Plus - and I didn't mention this then - the Cats were playing horribly, so I wasn't feeling all that great myself.

Jeremy said he was coming with me. I didn't fight him too hard on this point, because deep down, I WANTED him to share in my misery.  Had he not, the hellish-ness would've lasted way longer than just that nite.

So we left the game that we'd been anticipating for a year and stepped out into a downpour on the 45 degree evening. As instructed by the driver of the van that'd brought us to the game, we called the hotel and asked for a return ride to the Carolina Inn. The kid who answered said we'd be better off to get a cab. Since this was North Carolina and not New York, cabs were about as easy to come by as a basket for the UK offense.

So we started walking. And fighting. And walking some more. But mostly, we were fighting. And worrying about the facts that I was nine months pregnant and that Jones was starting to wheeze in the cold, wet weather. At one point, we passed the UNC Medical Center, and I asked if we should just go in and get a room for the two of us, as I was convinced I'd go in to labor, and Jeremy thought Jones was one block away from pneumonia. If I weren't totally opposed to my child being born on the campus of UNC, I'd have gone with the idea, if for no other reason than to get off of my feet.

Finally - after a lot more fighting (this for a couple that doesn't EVER fight) - we made it back to the hotel; the Cats lost the game, and we got a great nite's sleep.

But neither one of us survived the experience unscathed, which made our decision to make the 2014 meeting an adult-only experience an easy one.

Then Daddy told me that he some extra tickets for this year's game. It speaks to how wonderful my in-laws are that I immediately forgot the hellishness of the previous year and suggested that we take them with us. Not many of my friends actually WANT their in-laws around, but I absolutely do. They are the best.

So suddenly, the weekend we'd planned to leave the boys with them and spend some time alone WATCHING a game instead of hiking through the aptly-named Chapel HILL carrying a toddler, turned into Jeremy and I driving to Lexington with the Pressleys, Jones, Freddie, and a babysitter.

Plans changed again when Daddy called to say we were invited to his company's Christmas party. Typically, I'd have zero interest in attending something like that.  Things changed, however, when he mentioned that the party would be held in the UK locker room and on the court at Rupp Arena. Then, our Friday evening departure changed into a Friday morning one.

So.

We got there. We toured the locker room where the Wildcats suit up - even got some pictures of Freddie, wearing Willie Cauley Stein's number, sitting in Willie Cauley Stein's locker! - and then we shot some hoops on the court at Rupp Arena. To say the least, it was fantastic.

The next morning, after hardly sleeping (Jones woke up dry heaving, for some reason. I'm thinking it was the air return in the hotel room, which was right by his Pack and Play, because he was totally fine by breakfast time), we took the boys and the babysitter (Haylee Floyd - or "Heehee," as Jones calls her) to Daddy's condo. They stayed there, while their daddy, their grandparents, and I watched the Wildcats win.

Oh, what a weekend!

Freddie's getting on his feet!

I'm going to interrupt this day of binge-posting belated Christmas entries to let you know that THIS has been happening with Freddie.

This is of note, because, while Jones most DEFINITELY got his money's worth out of RIDING that motorcycle, he completely skipped the phase of using it as a walking trainer (which ... cough, cough ... may explain why he didn't walk until he was eighteen months old). I'm hoping this means that Freddie Bear will be on his feet in the next month or so.

Or maybe I should be careful what I wish for.

At any rate, he's doing great with the walker. In fact, last nite, I said, "Good job, Freddie," and Jones immediately said, "job, Ba-bee," which I'm thinking is a clear expression of brotherly love. Right?

Right.

Back to Back Visits to Canton First

It kind of breaks my heart when I have something to post - the story of our very busy Christmas season, for instance - and never get around to it until three weeks later when I really can't remember many of the details that I'd wanted to capture.

So much history, lost.

Maybe that's the double-edged sword of easy and/or instant access to pictures and posts. It gives us the illusion that we can bottle up our babies' childhoods to wistfully uncork long after they've gone on to bottle up the childhoods of their own babies. But the reality is that we in the Information Age are just as likely to slack off the chronicling as any other parent in history whose second child never had a baby book.  No offense, Mom.

Anyway.

The nite after the Living Nativity, we went to the Children's Christmas Program at Canton First. Jones sat in the sanctuary with us, while Mike and Donna Wood kept Freddie in the nursery. Jones did a GREAT job. He sat quietly and attentively and didn't even make a scene when his buddy Lila (Thomason) was on stage.  I couldn't have been more proud.

Then came the reception after the program.

As he did last year, Santa Claus visited the kids to congratulate them on a job well done and, apparently, to scare the you-know-what out of our boy Jones. Deja vu all over again. He reacted exactly the same way last Christmas.

For HIS part, Freddie wasn't afraid, per se; he was definitely aware,
however, that he was being held by a stranger. With a super-long beard.

But since there were no tears, and since he didn't manage to pull Santa's beard ENTIRELY off, I'm considering HIS visit a success.  Way to go, Baby Boy!

The next nite, we were back at church for the Community Children's Christmas Party. Because it was three weeks ago (ugh), I only remember two things about it: 1) we had a ham dinner with corn, green beans, and rolls, and both boys ate me under the table. 2) Jones kept taking anyone who'd follow him to the hard plastic Nativity to point out Baby Jesus. In fact, every time he hears the word "Jesus," he says, "Ba-bee," which is good, since Jesus CAME as a "Ba-bee" at Christmas, but I'm afraid Jones is in for a rude awakening when Easter comes, and he finds out that Jesus grew into a man.

We'll deal with that when the time comes.

For now, suffice it to say that he won the hearts of many at the party by leading them, like a certain star, across the "desert" of the fellowship hall into the presence of the Reason for the Season. "Jones, where's Baby Jesus?" they'd ask, and he'd take their hands and lead them to Him. It was precious and made me VERY proud, though I'm not quite sure why, as I had absolutely nothing to do with it.

Oh. He's also gotten really not kissing things - Freddie's forehead, for instance, his favorite car toy, the hard plastic Baby Jesus in the church fellowship hall. I pray Jones and Freddie both are always so enamored with their Savior - the One Who came as a "Ba-bee" at Christmas.

I'll Have BLUE Christmas ...

There are many Christmas entries I need to catch up on - not the least of which is Freddie's first visit to Rupp Arena! Until I actually take the time to sit down and post all those, here's a quick hit for you.

First, the backstory:

I got a notification on my phone that (Kentucky Wildcat) Trey Lyles had retweeted a video on Twitter. When I saw the title, I clicked on it to watch. Jones immediately came over and snuggled up beside me on the couch to see it, too.

This was the video:



As soon as it was over, Jones looked up at me and said, "Yeeeeaaaaaaahhhhh."

This reaction came just two days after he'd watched - a little too excitedly, I might add - while UK beat the UCLA Bruins.



Methinks he's becoming quite the basketball fan. I can't think of any better present he could give me this Christmas!

Freddie Gets a Lift

This post has absolutely nothing to do with Christmas celebrations.

It has to do with the fact that, Sunday morning before church, I looked up and saw Jones pushing Freddie on the "hog" that got Jones around for the six months that he positively refused to walk. Of course, when I tried to get him on video doing it, he stopped, but this forced recreation gives you the idea.

I think it's kind of adorable.  How about you?

Living Nativity

We took the boys to a Live Nativity at the 3rd Generation Barn in Canton tonite. I heard that there'd be farm animals there and immediately knew that such an event had Jones Pressley's name written all over it. Haylee Floyd, our friend from church, went with us, serving as the official "Freddie Wrangler," which was amazingly helpful.

The nativity was a really incredible experience. Though the barn it was in had to be 10,000 times nicer than the stable where Jesus was born, it did give us a sense of the humility of the situation. The Creator of the universe appears on Earth like THAT?!  Wow. 

For his part, Jones was very excited by the goat ... which he thought was a sheep, and I didn't have the heart to correct him, mostly because I'm not entirely sure of the differences between the two myself. Horns and a bleat. Is that all?

He was also impressed with the farm cat he encountered before we even followed the wisemen into the barn, but his BEST buddy was the very pregnant donkey. Interestingly, it's the donkey that he always pulls out of Freddie's Advent calendar to play with. Maybe he'll grow up to lead burro tours to the bottom of the Grand Canyon. 

As much as Jones loved playing with the donkey, Freddie Bear may have loved it more.  He practically fell out of Haylee's arms for reaching to pet the very friendly lady. Something you should know about Freddie - he does NOT share his brother's rather timid approach to new situations.  Wide-open is that one.

We ended our evening with our Advent study. I mention that, because, after the lessons, I was singing "Angels We Have Heard on High," and Jones started singing along. He's made noise before, as I've sung, but he's never sung along for an extended period of time. It.was.awesome ... especially after the whiny, clingy, needy week he's had.                                                                              

So the celebrations continue, and our anticipation of Jesus's birth grows with every passing day!

Christmas Comes to Canton

After an incredible Thanksgiving week, Jones and Freddie's Christmas celebrations are in full effect. Now that Jones is old enough to really enjoy things (as opposed to last year when December was just any other month to him), I'm trying to be intentional about starting traditions within our immediate family. I'm writing them all here, so I don't forget to do them again next year.

Obviously.

I put up our Christmas tree (3 easy steps!) the weekend before Thanksgiving, but we didn't put any ornaments on it until the Sunday after. After church, we read this big board book about the man who created the candy cane (and why - it's an awesome story!), watched a DVD of the Christmas story from the same Read-and-Share Bible that we read with the boys every nite, and, finally, put the ornaments on the tree. Freddie couldn't have been less interested, but Jones enjoyed it, though he didn't want to hang the Coke bottle ornament that Jeremy and I got on our honeymoon. He preferred to drink it instead. I can't really say that I blame him.

That nite, we started our Advent devotions. This basically involves reading some an advent meditation from this little book that I bought, reading some Scripture, putting that day's character on the Little People Advent Calendar that Mom bought Freddie to match the Little People Nativity she gave Jones for HIS first Christmas (as featured in last year's Christmas card!), singing the Hymn of the Month (first verse of "Joy Has Dawned," by Keith and Kristyn Getty), and praying.  After this, Freddie goes to bed and Jones generally talks me into an episode of "Tec" before he goes down himself. He's got me right where he wants me.

In addition to our nitely routine, there have been a couple of special outings already, too.

1) December 3: The boys and I took Sissy's kids to check out the self-proclaimed Greenville Griswolds. This is a place that must be seen to be believed, so here you go:



How do they DO that?!  And why??!?!? And WHO PAYS FOR IT?!?!?!

2) December 4: We went to the Canton Christmas Parade! Before the Parade, we met the Pressleys at Sid's for dinner. Afterwards, we walked back to their car for a front-row seat to the action. I'd actually assumed we'd sit in the car, staying warm until the parade started, and then transfer the party to the place I'd staked out on the sidewalk.  The thing about Jones, though, is that, once he's given access to a steering wheel, he's not all that willing to give it up. That translated into Jeremy and I standing on the sidewalk for the first part of the parade, while Jones sat on his Pop's lap in the driver's seat, and Freddie sat shotgun with Nan. Periodically, Jeremy or I would walk over to the driver's side to see if Jones wanted to come get closer-up to the action. Every time, he'd say, "No" and then wave, "Bye."

Message received.

Eventually, Jeremy and I got in the car, too, and it was so much fun to watch Jones interact with the (many, many) floats that passed by (the parade lasted well over an hour). The float for a church passed by, and Mrs. Pressley read the sign on it: "Christmas is all about Jesus." Jones immediately said, "BA-BY!" which I'm hoping is because he's heard us refer to "Baby Jesus" about 19,000 times in the past week and a half. Or maybe not, but I'm hoping so.

Then, we headed home, fat and happy with visions of sugarplums dancing in each of our pretty little heads.

So that's our holiday so far. We're planning to go to a live nativity (in a barn!) tomorrow nite. Assuming I'm not too lazy to do it (a big assumption), I'll post pics from that little excursion, as well.

It's the most wonderful time of the year!