A weary return to reality

Whew! What a way to say goodbye to the old 365 and welcome in the New Year!

After only a little convincing by my husband, I was glad to finish work on December 22nd and start the holidays a little earlier than expected. I still had presents to wrap, goodies to bake and a house to clean before my family came over for a visit. And, being a good six and a half month's pregnant, with a tireless two-year-old underfoot, I needed the extra day to get somethings done. I had every intention of napping on the 23rd, but time simply did not allow for it!

I wasn't too worried. I was in great spirits and the important stuff had already been accomplished: Turkey bought? Check! Cider thawing out in fridge? Check! Christmas cards mailed out? Check! Ten trees up and decorated? Check, check, check x3! (Yeah, ya read me, right. I tend to go a little overboard, but I just really, really love Christmas, okay? And, no they aren't all six-footers--three of 'em are, three are three-footers and the rest are minis. Oops! Forgot the porch tree--okay, so that makes 11 trees total. Really, my obsessions are not all this bad....) So what if all the dog hair didn't get vacuumed up? People would understand. I am preggers, after all, and I do work full time!

So, on the 23rd, in another fit of cleaning, I decided to move around my photo equipment (and get it out of the dining room, which of course, is where I was planning on feeding all of our guests). I had already charged the batteries that morning to ensure I was ready for Christmas Day--but I must have not zipped my bag up properly. My NikonD80 came rolling out of the bag, landing on the lens and snapping the little, plastic flanges that attach the lens to the body. I freaked, thinking that I may have damaged the lens--or worse, the body! I was not impressed with myself. Sure, I had a crappy back-up, point-and-shoot for the holidays, but this is my fave--and a must-have for my family holiday.

The holidays went downhill from there. We enjoyed a lovely evening on Christmas Eve with my in-laws--B was so excited to see the nativity scene at mass that she kept shouting out at the top of her lungs "I want to see Baby Jesus!" while others around us were by turns, either praying, smiling indulgently at her, ignoring us or pointedly staring us with no-nonsense-control-your-child glares. Good times.--and were home in bed in time for Santa's arrival.

And the next morning was lovely. B is at that age where the magic and wonder of Christmas is enchanting. This was the first year that she got excited about Christmas lights, gingerbread cookies and visiting Santa at the store. She was simply delighted by the glowing reflection of the (main!) tree on the presents below. Her sheer happiness at the sight made my day. She dove right in, pushing presents (Santa really did spoil us, this year. Thank you for the Kindle, Mr. Kringle!) towards us and taking part in unwrapping each and every one.

To keep up with the homey holiday atmosphere, Hubby lit a fire, while I put the fake one on the kitchen tv. (For the music, people, for the music....) We were enjoying such a beautiful morning that it seemed unreal what happened after the gift opening. I was prepping the turkey in the kitchen, Hubby setting up some bed arrangements in the basement, B playing with her new Rose Petal Cottage house and all of her new toys--or so I thought.

I heard an ear-splitting wail and ran for it. In an attempt to reach the stockings that I had rehung on the mantle, she had put her hand on the fireplace window and burned it something fierce! She was crying uncontrollably "I touched fire! I touched fire! Fire's hot!", while we ran her hand under cold water and quickly debated how to go about getting her medical attention on Christmas Day.

More heartbreaking than anything was that she thought she was in trouble for touching the fire, even after we had told her never to go near it. After trying the ambulance station 10 mins from our house, and speaking to the nurses at TeleHealth, we opted to take her to CHEO. Hubby didn't want me to come to the hospital since I'm pregnant, so he went alone and I nearly burst into tears when B told me to "Get your coat, Mommy, get your coat, Mommy," because she wanted me to come with them.

Long story short, Hubby took B to the ER on Christmas Day and they sat there for four hours, while I basted the turkey at home, wringing my hands in worry (he didn't want to cancel our dinner since guests were due any minute and the craziness of B's four cousins would be a distraction from the pain in her hand).

I felt extremely guilty. What kind of mother was I to have hung the stockings back up? Why did we light a fire upstairs anyway? I should have been watching her more closely! Anyways, you can bet the stockings were moved an hour later and will never go up by the fire again and that a fire screen has been added to living room.

Not exactly the memorable Christmas I had hoped.

Still, we made the best of a bad situation (It's kinda Redmond tradition to have someone terribly ill or injured during the holidays) and had a great evening with my family. And my big brave girl didn't even complain much, the poor thing!

The next day was spent indoors while the rain slashed an ice storm across our region. In fact, there was so much ice damage that the power was affected and we went the night of the 26th without electricity. Thank God for that malevolent fireplace! The next day was also affected, with short power outages throughout the afternoon.

To make matters worse, however, while at the hospital on the 27th to redress B's wound, B picked up a virus and had the 12-hour gastro. Hubby and Cousin H then took turns at the toliet on the 28th. Finally, J and D contracted the nasty bug on the 29th. Miraculously, I never caught it.

All in all, B is recovering nicely. Her palm is already looking much, much better and she has been quite the trooper throughout the ordeal. There will be no permanent damage and likely no scarring. And, somehow, her injury has--although made her very wary of the fireplace--not tainted her love of Christmas.