fight the power

December 20, 2008 at 8:07 am Leave a comment

weigh-in

weigh-in

On night 4, we buckled. Home in the warmth and quiet loneliness, out of range of Pablito’s gently beseeching whimper, or Satch’s eager, examining eyes, or Levi’s meticulous standards. We needed to recharge the batteries and avail ourselves of the gift of round-the-clock top quality healthcare. We needed to assemble a crib, and unpack a stroller, and just eat some cheese and watch television. We needed to wash and pick out outfits for the boys’ big day tomorrow – they’re meeting Santa. Big photo op, and even though it’s not entirely our party, how do you tell your 4-week-old that Santa’s Passing Over his bassinet this year, you know? 

So home we were, settling in in the deep late-night, and the power goes out. Now up here in these Northern parts, when the power goes out for a moment, it often stays out for a day or longer. We’re not currently in a situation where we can live for more than three hours with no power, and so, the decision was essentially made for us. I threw on a sweater, ski mask,  gloves and scarf, and made my way outside to shovel away the foot of snow that had fallen this evening. Shovel shovel, scrape, run the engine, mutter, almost ready, take a breath, and the lights come back on. Such are the ways of the lord, who loveth us with goodness and with humor, and who can’t resist every now and then to windeth us uppeth. I made my way back upstairs, wrote this post, peeled off my frozen threads, and cozied back into the awaiting sack.

The photo – from a lifetime ago – is of Levi, last night, on his scale pre-nursing. We weigh them before and after, and the difference, measured out in grams, is how much they sucked in. I put this ridiculously cute and too-large outfit on the little mouse myself, and it took some doing. There’s a onesy, then the main outfit (sleeper? can’t yet remember what this item of clothing, around which the boys’ universe revolves, is called), and the socks. And the hat. All matching. And all making plain to me that there will be scant time in our lives for things such as: snaps; socks; fussing. Except every now and then, when you just gotta.

We’re back in the clink tomorrow bright and early. It’s not only Santa day, but “cookie day,” when volunteers wheelbarrow in mounds and mounds of home-baked cookies for us sleep-deprived parents. We earned them this year. Ho ho ho.

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very quick note Well hello there Mr. Santy Claus

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