A Christmas letter for Liv

Dear Liv:

This is the story of a miracle.

I didn't much believe in miracles before you arrived on the scene. But my outlook has changed on many fronts since I met you.

There was much uncertainty surrounding your birth. We didn't know who you were or what you were capable of. You have since shown us you are capable of more than most. You possess a scrappy determination that has seen you through some very rough days. You have taken all of the turmoil in stride, with your sweet, serene disposition in tact.

You arrived on a cold day in February, much earlier than we anticipated, weighing only 810 grams - less than two pounds. We were frightened and worried before you arrived, concerned that you wouldn't have that fighting spirit that would be so critical to your survival. But from the moment the doctor pulled you out, and leaned over and smiled at us, saying "She looks really vital", I knew you would be fine. From the beginning, the medical team said what a little fighter you were, and we knew they were right, and that you were meant to be here with us.

That is not to say we haven't worried. Oh, the worry. Your daddy and I look much older these days, lines appearing on our faces that weren't there before, new grey hairs arriving almost daily. But through all the worry, we knew it would all work out. The road to this place was long and winding, but it arrived where we thought and hoped it would.

We are eternally grateful to you for being so strong. Your strength has been, and continues to be, inspiring. You have endured much more pain than we have ever experienced in our much longer lives. You are a little trooper, our champion. Each time I hold you and look at your face, and you smile, my heart skips a beat. I am so keenly aware of how fortunate we are to have you here with us. My gratitude is overwhelming. We are so lucky. So lucky. So lucky. I repeat my thanks to the universe, to God, to whomever wants to listen and take the credit.

And so here we are, celebrating another of life's milestones with you, your first Christmas. We are excited to be sharing this holiday with you at home. Glad to be together as a family, in our little house on the prairie, warm and snug and merry and bright. Glad to not be in a hospital. Glad to have the most important things in the world: each other, and our collective health. Glad to be celebrating the miracle of life. The miracle of you.

Merry Christmas, my sweet baby. Thank you for keeping up the fight.

Love always,
Mommy

A Christmas Card Story: Nightmare on Our Street

Did you know Christmas is on the same date every year? Really. So, you'd think I'd be a little more organized. I mean, it's not like it just suddenly springs upon us. It's not like there aren't umpteen thousand reminders on television, in every store, during most conversations with people in general. But every year, it's the same thing - I suddenly realize it's only a few weeks until Christmas, and I have to act. NOW.

Thus, creating our Christmas card this year was a gong show from beginning to end. All of a sudden it was December. All of a sudden it was mid-December. And I wanted to send cards. So I convinced Mitch we should take a really cute snapshot with the girls to put on the card. How hard is that?

Turns out getting a photo with a two year old named Mia is almost impossible, let alone in a dress, with hair brushed, sitting next to her sister without mauling her or chucking her off the chair. Let alone ensuring, simultaneously, that Liv is looking at the camera, sitting up, not barfing, or crying, or needing to eat.

It crossed my mind that maybe we should hire a professional to take the photo. I mean, they're experts at dealing with kids who don't want their picture taken. On the other hand, taking Mia's photo usually requires A LOT of bribery (and/or threats) and several (failed) attempts. And so paying someone to be here with an uncooperative toddler and an unpredictable baby seemed like it was probably a big, fat waste of money.

Things were also complicated by the fact that I kind of wanted a photo without Liv's feeding tube in, and we only change that once a week. The first time we tried to get some photos of the girls, none of them really turned out, and so we had to wait until Liv pulled her tube out again, several days later. And it also had to be before naptime, after eating time, when Mitch and I were both at home....you see where this is going.

So, what I'm trying to say is this: the photo on our card is not great. Both kids look a bit stunned. Liv was seconds away from falling asleep, and Mia was on the verge of becoming very wild. But it was the best of the bunch. So I sent the photo away to be made into cards. An hour later, we took some much cuter shots of the girls laying on the floor, some much better photos than the one I used on the card. I called to put a stop to the card-making process, but our cards had already been printed. So that's the scoop. Oh yes, I also didn't order enough, and so some people received cards with photos, and others didn't, and that's just the way it goes.

Next year, I'll know better. I'll start the process in October instead.

Merry Christmas, friends!
oxox
Kim

A few more recent shots

A few of our favourites these days:

"Mommy, I don't want a nap!" Five minutes later Mia was asleep at the table.

The shirt says it all, I think!












A weighty milestone: 11 pounds! Nov. 27, 2008

Miss Mia likes to dress herself, and doesn't want help from anyone, unless she's desperate (arm through the neck hole, inside-out shirtsleeve, and so on...). Here, Mia was getting ready for swimming lessons. She put her Little Swimmer diaper over top of her panties, and her bathing suit over the entire works, including her shirt. Aaaah, toddlerhood!

Liv loves the bath more than almost anything else!

Snoozy Susie in her toque. So Canadian!

Enjoying the festivities at Miles' third birthday party.

Wintertime fun in our backyard.

Happy holiday season!

oxox

Kim

Bathroom chat with Mia

Some of the most enlightened conversations with a toddler happen in the bathroom. Mia has been fairly apt at using the potty either on her own or with assistance from one us. And just today Kim had the following conversation while Mia was sitting on her little throne:

Mia: I can't hear my poops.

Kim: Sometimes they are quiet.

Mia: My poop is quiet.

Mia: [Looking down] I have a 'gina.

Kim: Yes, girls have vaginas.

Mia: Yeah. And boys have peanuts.

You heard it here first, folks - boys have peanuts!

mitch