Candy Cane Lane 2011

We were super excited to take Nixon to see Christmas lights this year, since she was still in the NICU last Christmas. Nixon LOVES any type of lights, so we were eager to see how she would react to thousands of them.

She was VERY facinated- almost overwhelmed. We could tell she loved it, but there was so much going on that she didn't know where to look!

Nixon is wearing the Chirstmas outfit her Grandma Julie bought for her.

 

Oh, and there were a bunch of great nativity scenes:

Holiday Craft

Time to Let Go

As I’ve blogged about recently, the holidays have never been very pleasant for me. I was REALLY hoping that would change when I got married and I looked forward to big family parties and new traditions. But that never happened. The Christmases I’ve endured since marrying Adam have been some of the worst, and I decided it was up to me this year to keep history from repeating itself.

So I sent out an email to Adam’s family, hoping that maybe, JUST MAYBE, we could let go of the past and come together as a family, so that my daughter could experience how Christmas is SUPPOSED to feel (happy). 

Here is that Email

My inner masochist was thrilled, as I was sure to get nothing but grief from this naïve mission, however noble my intentions. Nonetheless, I tucked that pessimistic voice away, I prayed my letter would work, and began preparing for a holiday together. I bought lots of really fun presents, I made ornaments, I baked desserts (yummy red velvet cakepops, freezer safe, of course).  I even set up a secret photoshoot for Nixon and her cousin Jaxson, to surprise my mother in law with, framed, on Christmas.

But, sure enough, Adam’s hateful, self-righteous sisters declined my request to put the past behind us, proving once and for all that his family is a lost cause, and any attempts at “winning them over” are foolhardy at best.

How stupid am I? How many times am I going to delude myself into thinking I can “fix” things with this intolerable gaggle of bitter women? After all, I didn’t do anything to deserve their hatred, so how idiotic am I to think that anything I do will ever make things better?

The only time his younger sister has been nice to me was after Nixon came home from the hospital and she needed help editing her final paper for college. After reading what she had written, I quickly realized why it had taken her over 7 years to graduate, and I spent hours completely rewriting it. I even did additional research to fill in where her arguments lacked. No sooner than I finished it, she was back to being a hateful bitch.

His older sister is just as bad, if not worse; she pretended to be my friend for two years before Adam and I got married. It was only when we got pregnant with Nixon did it become clear that she was never my friend at all. She was jealous and bitter that we got pregnant before she did (I’d probably be jealous too if my marriage was as frigid and loveless as her's is). She wrote me a five page email ranting about how her whole family hates me, and that none of them thought we were capable of raising a child. After sending me that email, she continued to harass me nonstop for over a week causing me stress, headaches, high blood pressure, and the eventual onset of the preeclampsia that nearly killed both my daughter and myself.

The obvious question is: why do I care about reconciling with these sanctimonious bitches? Tonight I think I finally found the answer: I don’t, and I'm done.

Reconciliation

(A Letter to my In-Laws)

This letter is not an easy thing to write. I’ve thought about how to properly and effectively express myself for a few weeks now, and drew blanks. I figure the best way to start is just to start, so forgive me if I seem a bit scattered.

The past few years between us have been tumultuous at best. There have been some intermittent times of harmony, but for the most part there has been grief and rejection and hatred and frustration. Nothing seems natural anymore, and the jovial times that made me fall in love with all of you (not just Adam) have long since dissipated. I look back on family dinners and holidays before Adam and I got married and I can’t help but wonder what the hell happened?

And that’s what I’ve spent the past few years asking myself. What have I done to precipitate so much animosity and bitterness? This question has plagued me, and until very recently, I have dwelled upon it, desperate for an answer and a solution to this feud.

But, after a morning with Nixon watching Sesame Street, I realize now that the answer is irrelevant. As ridiculous as it sounds, Elmo clarified things for me in a way that dozens of articles and books about repairing families written by professionals couldn’t; Elmo said that a family is a family whether they agree or not. Elmo said that despite our differences we should love each other and accept each other for who we are, because that’s what families do. Even when they’re wrong, we should love everyone in our family.

This might seem like a remedial notion, but I didn’t grow up in the typical family environment. My childhood home was turbulent and violent at times. When raising our voices failed to resolve fights, the next step was almost always someone leaving, doors slamming, which is eventually how I ended up in a group home. Even now, I find it easier to walk away from a conflict than to resolve it. I’ve severed so many ties and relationships over the years it would be impossible to count them all. I dread confrontation and raised voices, and I would rather walk out and end a relationship then put myself back in a hostile environment like the one I endured as a child. So Elmo’s notion of what a family really is is actually very foreign to me. And for Nixon’s sake, I want to change that.

So, basically, I was hoping this year could be the last year of this crisis that we’ve let steal the past few years. I don’t want Nixon to miss out on what I missed out on as a child. She deserves a family that encompasses more than just her mom and dad and grandparents. She deserves aunts and uncles and cousins, and big holiday parties and lots and lots of kisses.

But this isn’t going to work if everyone isn’t onboard. If even just one person holds back and refuses to let go of the resentment and hostility that we’ve been clinging to, it will only serve as a painful reminder of everything that has happened and none of us will truly be able to move forward.

Let’s let 2012 be a better year for our family. Let’s reinstate family dinners and let’s start new traditions with the kids and really embrace each other. 

Tiny Babies

I’ve been having a hard time sleeping lately; the holidays do a pretty good job of wringing out my heart and sending my mind out on painful trips down memory lane, and I just can’t stop thinking enough to sleep. Sometimes reading helps, and last tonight, while browsing through the news on Google, I came across this article about two exceptionally healthy and thriving micro-preemies.

9.9 ounce baby madiline mann, now a college student

Born even smaller than our little peanut, the two girls featured in the article are a true testament to how strong we (humans) truly are, how far technology has come, and how early life truly begins. “One is a healthy first-grader, the other an honors college student majoring in psychology. Once the tiniest babies ever born, both girls are thriving, despite long odds when they entered the world weighing less than a pound.”

Their survival and the survival of preemies everywhere are proof that prayers are answered, and that life is so valuable. They are a reminder not to take our children for granted because so many have lost theirs.

One of the hardest days for me in the NICU was when one of the babies in Nixon’s pod didn’t make it. I was there when the doctors turned off the little guy's machines and I will never forget his mother’s cries. She just kept saying “I’m so sorry” over and over and over, trying to beg forgiveness from the baby that her own body forced her to give up 15 weeks too soon. I cried with her, as silently as I could, behind the curtain that separated her from where I sat holding Nixon. For hours she cried and apologized. I was face to face with my worst nightmare, and with my own guilt, and all I could do was hold my baby and cry and beg God not to take her because I couldn’t possibly live my life without her.

Adam holding Nixon's hand 3 days after she was born

So, reading this article a little less than a year after we brought our daughter home from the NICU, I think maybe I’ve been focusing too much on the bad in my life and not enough on our blessings.

Thank you God for blessing us with a beautiful, healthy and perfect daughter. We are truly grateful for her, and for all of the other miracle micro-preemies you’ve delivered out of NICUs around the world.

More Santa Pictures

Nixon Meets Santa

Adam, his parents and I took Nixon to the Shops at Mission Viejo yesterday to meet Santa, and it went really well. As expected, she wasn't afraid of him, and she didn't cry; she just sat in his lap, peered interestedly at his beard, and let us snap photos of the whole event. I am probably a horrible mom, because secretly I REALLY wanted one of those photos where the kid looks mortified of St. Nick, and is screaming in terror. That being said, the photos we DID get are great, and I'm happy our daughter is still fearless.

Here are some of the shots from today (the rest you'll have to wait for in the mail)!

I caught an elf!

The people at the MAC counter thought we put blush on her- We had to explain that she's just naturally BEAUTIFUL!

The candy cane bow is from Danica's Chic Bowtique, and her adorable outfit (minus the tutu) is from SewSimplySweetShop

Thanks again to my close friend Amanda Valbuena for coming with us and playing photographer!
 You did a great job!