All I Want For Christmas Is You

You either love it or hate it, but as a product of the 90s and as someone who
thinks Mariah Carey has once-in-a-generation level talent, I fall into the “love it”
category:  I love the song “All I Want For Christmas Is You.”

Before I met Zach, I spent most Christmases single as a dollar bill. So it was
sort of a general wish out into the universe rather than about a particular person:
All I want for Christmas is you...whoever you are.

Zach and began dating in late 2009, but it was a long-distance relationship for the

first year and a half.  I flew into Chicago to visit him on December 26, 2010,

and then I also remember telling him, “all I want for Christmas is you!”  (And

indeed, it was only a few months later that he got a job in Portland.)

Of course we went on to get married and start a family, and life has been very

good to us.  We had our first baby, our Zoey, a few years in. We had picked the

name Zoey for a girl before we got engaged, but didn’t have a second girl’s

name; it’s something we talked about shortly after Zoey was born, and discovered

that we both liked the sound of the name Hannah.  And in fall 2017, we discovered

that we were once again expecting a child, but this time it ended the way so many

pregnancies do, even though it is rarely talked about. We lost that pregnancy on

December 9th.

As Catholics, we often look to the Saints for examples of how to both live joyfully

and how to handle difficult situations.  When I looked up patron saints of infertility

and pregnancy loss, I was shocked to find that St. Hannah is one that is looked

to for guidance in that area, and her feast day is December 9th.

We made it through Christmas and New Years that year, though none of it felt very

joyful.  In May 2018 though, we found out that we were once again expecting a child.
The early days of that pregnancy were navigated with some fear, but come Christmas 2018, my belly and heart were full, full with our Hannah. Once again, that familiar tune
was all over the airwaves, taking on a new meaning:

I just want you for my own

More than you could ever know

Make my wish come true

Baby all I want for Christmas is you

This season, as the song plays on the radio, and I sing along (off key and loudly!), sweet Hannah baby babbles along from the back seat.

You Can't Keep A Cookie

I thought decorating Christmas cookies together could make for some sweet memories,

and I was right.  It was an opportunity for me to let go and let her be a little messy, and

for her to try something new, to experiment with how hard to squeeze, how much

sprinkle to sprinkle, and how all the colors interacted.  But more than that, it was a

chance to do something fun and seasonal in the comfort of our own cozy home; a

chance to show her a little love.

She squeezed red and white frosting onto her first sugar cookie and sprinkled

excessive sprinkles. Initially she wanted my help with the frosting, but boy did her face

light up when she realized she could do it herself!  I swear the red and white streaks with

spots of color seemed like the most beautiful artwork I’d ever seen, and of course I took

a picture.

You know what happens after you decorate Christmas cookies though right?  You eat them!

But something surprised me: my initial resistance to let her eat the cookie.  No, I wasn’t

overly concerned with sugar, and dinner had passed so it wasn’t about ruining her appetite. 

It’s because that was the FIRST cookie she’d ever made and a part of me wanted to KEEP it.

To preserve it just as is, so we could remember this little moment forever every time we

looked at it.

It was completely irrational. You can’t save a cookie!  Cookies are made for eating!

The layers of that started to hit me pretty heavily.  You can’t stop time and you can’t take it with you. Nothing stays the same.  I often look at this little girl and marvel that seemingly so recently, I cradled her in my arms and she was completely dependent on me for EVERYTHING.  Now she wanders around our house, puts on her clothes by herself, and has her very own independent thoughts. However small, she is definitely her very own person.

I almost wish someone had told me that it goes so fast! ;)

I feel so attached to this precocious little toddler, her funny ways of saying things, her unabashed affection, her playful imagination.  But it won’t stay this way forever either, nor will it stay this way all that much longer. My little girls are going to get big, and as much as I’d like to beg them not to, the only way that happens is an outcome I hope never to have to face.  If you keep a cookie because you cannot bear to consume it, it will eventually spoil, and if I cling too hard to my daughters’ littleness, I might miss out on the joy of it all, of all the different stages.

Fittingly, earlier in the day yesterday Zach had asked her “Will you stay my little girl forever?” as a sweet little moment of musing and connection.  Her response was just about perfect, but bittersweet: “I’ll be your little girl for a little bit, but then I gotta grow up.”