We're going into a new stage in our life as parents. Only our youngest, who will be 9 on Christmas Day, is getting any toys for Christmas. In just a few more years, we'll be a toyless home. That sounds terribly sad. I miss buying American Girl outfits already, just a year after I lamented the outrageous cost of them.
But this post is about first Christmases, when sheer delight reigned supreme on all sides.
Jesse was 9 months old at his first Christmas. We lived in Oxford, Ohio. Randy was finishing his master's degree at Miami University, and I was working as an editor for the headquarters of an international business association. This was taken at Randy's parents' house in Indiana, about an hour from where we lived.
Laurel was four months old for her first Christmas, and Jesse is about 4 1/2. We lived in Ames, Iowa, where Randy was working on his PhD at Iowa State University. At this particular time I was taking a break from working on my master's degree and just being a stay-at-home mama. I did end up finishing the next year.
This is really Duncan's second Christmas since he was born on Christmas Day, but being born and whisked off to the NICU isn't nearly as much fun as eating your first cake. This is my precious Christmas gift on his first birthday. We've been in this house in Tennessee since I was about 3 months pregnant with Duncan, so he has always been here, in this house, with his Daddy as a professor at UT and his mama at home.
It's a good place to be.