As like every other Jesus-lover on the planet, we had a busy busy busy week going into Christmas. And then, finally, blessedly, the holiday. Pictures of our days can be seen here.
And then there was the blizzard.
No, really! People: I have lived in Kansas for many, many, many moons by now. My days of Wisconsin blizzards are long past. In this state, I had yet to see such a thing. That is, until Christmas Eve. Lawrence was in a Blizzard Warning for the holidays, believe it or not. It started icing late Thursday morning, so we hit the road a little earlier than planned. Just south of KC it turned back to rain (woohoo!), so the trip to Southeast KS was thankfully uneventful.
We had our fun Kemmeter holiday, Pittsburg got sleet and about 4 inches of snow on top of that. Christmas morning Mass was a bit empty, but we were still able to get there. Barely.
We drove back to Lawrence on the 26th, driving was a bit hairy in spots but we made it. And man, but did they get the snow and drifting while we were away. And we missed it! The whole thing! My first blizzard in Kansas, and we are south of it. Phooey.
Peter did get his introduction to snow when we got back. He had the indignity of wearing a pretty white and bear-eared snowsuit. On the scale of embarrassment, Peter seemed to find it just a tad beneath Ralphie's pink bunny PJs. Just barely.
Also Scott refused to put the dear child anywhere near the white stuff but instead elected to hold him tight, so I have no fun snow pictures to share. Blame the man.
We also did our own little Christmas present-opening time with Peter, he hardly noticed (figures).
Other than that, the rest of the weekend was spent unpacking and cleaning and getting our dear child back on a regular schedule. On Sunday we attempted to go grocery shopping. It was a serious effort. On top of the usual work-around-naps and spend-an-extra-30-minutes-getting-a-child-ready-to-leave-the-house, we had to shovel a bit and get the car warmed up. Finally ready, everyone's in boots and winter wear, and we brave the elements to head out.
And the car, it is stuck in the driveway. Scott spun the wheels for a good 5 minutes until we decided it was best to get the baby back in the house and have Scott shovel some more under the car...
Ten minutes later, and we're actually really ready. Peter and I get back into our winter garb, and... he has a dirty diaper. Um, we can smell it. So off with outerwear yet again, and I troop up to his bedroom to change him. And only after I get the dirty diaper off do I realize we have 3 wipes left in the container. So I make do as best I can, get him cleaned up, then when wrapping things up I accidentally drag my knuckles through the dirty diaper.
Um, yeah - g.r.o.s.s. So I stand there holding Peter with the good hand and waving around my other dirty hand while squealing, which caused my White Knight Scott (still downstairs waiting by the front door) to also peel off his coat/hat/gloves/boots and sprint upstairs to my rescue, and blah-bitty blah blah yeah. It took longer than we thought to get going is my point. Curse the weather and dirty diapers.
Maybe not the best choice to end that story with a picture of the child in his highchair...
On the boy-child front: oh, he is breaking my heart, the rate at which he grows. He scoots along the floor so, so well now. He makes a ton of new noises, clicking his tongue and squeals and shouts. The shouts and squeals I can do without, to be honest. He has also been very independent about his feedings, guiding the spoon to his mouth when you feed him and grabbing baby Cheetos out of your hand to feed himself.