Willa just told me she'd like to go to 10 more stores today. All by herself. She's planning to go to the caterpillar store and the star store (where she plans to pick herself up a worm). When asked how she's going to get there she informed me she'd drive herself in a purple van, and she'd turn on music by herself. Soundtrack of choice? "Go for G" by They Might Be Giants.
I have in my back pocket a little post about my ride on the postpartum depression water slide. I'll be putting that up in a few days. For now, please know that having a baby (both times) make this naturally inclined homebody an outright hermit. If you've been feeling neglected, you're probably not alone. Time, a healthy baby, and medication have been making things much, much better, so Feliz Navidad to my psyche.
As I type, Willa is sharing her recently acquired fact that caterpillars turn into butterflies with Jim. Her eyes get wide when she whispers, "they turn into butterflies."
Rounding out the rest of the family check in, Henry is asleep and snoring on my lap. Jim is sitting on the floor with Willa on his lap rhapsodising about Christmas cookies. He's on day #3 of antibiotics, waging a war against ear infection #438 of the year. It's in his good ear, and making him nearly completely deaf. The doctor's connected him with a specialist, and next week we might find he needs tubes.
Merry Christmas Eve, everyone. Drive safe, hug your family, don't forget to leave treats for the reindeer.