Advent, past and present

Yes, that's snow! Just a smidgen, but coming down in big glorious flakes on a Saturday afternoon well before Christmas, and still on the grass Monday evening. Edith and I are hoping it bodes well for a snowy winter.

As we move into early December I find myself nostalgic about our two-week wait this time last year, from Alice's due date to the day she finally was induced to be born. In part I miss the relative calm and focus of that week last year compared to this year's grueling schedule, but more fundamentally I'm nostalgic for that extraordinary period surrounding the birth of a child--both the highly anticipatory, almost luminescent, final days of waiting and then the first exquisite moments with the newest person in the world, a time like no other.

We attended a lovely Advent Night Sunday evening--incredibly our 5th, as handmade ornaments from 2005 attest. Last year at Advent Night we were on the eve of the 42-week appointment with the midwife and imminent induction but were enjoying our last few hours as a family of three:


This year Advent Night began somewhat more hecticly. Tom walked to church at 3:30pm for a committee meeting. The girls and I were set to follow at 5pm. Alice finally has begun protesting rides in the carseat and was crying and struggling as I buckled her in; Edith and I promised her that she would only be in the seat for a few minutes. Then I turned to Edith but was having trouble getting her buckles cinched over her puffy winter coat; needing both hands, I tossed my keys over the headrest into the driver's seat. At last Edith was strapped in tight, and I shut the back door and turned to the front. It was locked. So was Edith's door. So was Alice's and the front passenger-side door and the trunk. Somewhere along the way either Edith or I must have hit a lock button. Trying to sound as calm as possible, I asked Edith through the closed window to reach forward and hit the unlock button on her door. She was strapped tight and couldn't. I asked her to use her foot, as she did all last summer to hit the window-lowering button. At this strange request she grew a bit uneasy and kicked at the door ineffectively. As the situation dawned on her she began to cry, joining Alice, who was already at full tilt. I remained even-keeled and even casual as I tried to talk her out of her panic, telling her we could manage the situation as long as she would try again to hit the button with her foot. She sobbed and shook her head, not even willing to try. Then I asked her to unbuckle the top of her carseat, so she might have enough freedom of movement to lean forward and use her hands. I imagine most four year olds are experts at getting out of their carseats, but Edith never has had patience with inanimate objects, and when panicked it turns out she's not even willing to attempt manipulating them. One or two ineffective squeezes on her buckle and then she quit, shaking her head and screaming. I told her the only alternative was for me to get the spare house key out of hiding, let myself in, call Daddy, and wait for someone to bring him home, which would take awhile. Edith nodded that this actually seemed better to her than continuing to try to unbuckle herself. Grrr. So that's what we did. We got Tom out of a meeting, but Alice was in her seat a good deal longer than we'd promised.

Actually, she's the one I should have asked to unlock the door, as she spent the early hours of Saturday morning practicing getting people in and out of vehicle seats:

One shouldn't compare one's children, but it's hard not to note the contrast between Edith's tendency to scream at puzzle pieces that won't click into place and Alice's steady work at getting all the people into the school bus (a task on which she'd already spent a good five minutes by the time I picked up the video camera).

After the locked doors incident Advent Night looked up. This year's crafts were all new and generally excellent. Of course Edith zeroed right in on the edible Christmas tree:


After that we made a cute cardinal out of a painted pinecone, Christmas tree ball, felt, and pipe cleaners and decorated a napkin ring with a felt poinsettia. Alice played happily throughout.


We finished the evening with dinner, desserts, and carols in the company of good friends, who originally started sitting with us at this event five years ago in order to have a chance to play with baby Edith...and at last are expecting a baby of their own.

Here's to the last few hours of Alice's first year...more posts later this week, I'm sure.