Christmas already feels like it was two months ago, doesn't it? We managed to pack a lot into the week between Christmas and New Year's Day, and then I went back to work, and now it all feels like a distant, twinkling memory (even though we have yet to take down our Christmas tree -- Joe: "It makes me happy!").
A few highlights:
We stretched out the Grammie and Granddad time as long as we could, until they had to depart for the airport. Every day since, Felicity has woken up and said hopefully, "Grammie and Granddad are here?"
To console ourselves in their absence, we went to the Museum of Natural History and checked out the Discovery Room, which is this great hands-on exhibit for kids that's tucked away near a side entrance. It's aimed at school children a little older than Felicity, but she found plenty to entertain herself. They had a display of masks that she could try on and read about, and she parked herself there for a solid half-hour.
"You're wearing a kitty-cat mask!"
She had Joe and I try on some of the other masks, but quickly declared, "You don't nike that very much."
She also sorted ladybugs and beetles and nested matryoshka dolls, and visited her favorite dioramas ("Nook! It's a BEAR!")
We got a bit of snow one day (we were hoping for more, but it ended up being a light dusting), and I took the little one outside and she dashed ahead of me, calling, "You're running, running, RUNNING through the snow! You're dancing in the snow! Look! It's snowing all over the place! The snowflakes are dancing through a moonlit forest!"
That night, Joe and I went to meet up with friends at the 21 Club for a very Old New York/ring-a-ding-ding celebration of Joe's birthday. 21 was just what I wanted it to be -- cozy and old-school (dark wood paneling and a fireplace in the bar/lounge, a low-ceilinged dining room with dim lighting and antique toys hanging from the ceiling), with a pretty waitress and a conspiratorial sommelier. It's not the kind of place you go to have the best food of your life, but the chicken hash was, in fact, quite delicious in a 1950s casserole kind of way -- it's something your grandmother would have served on a winter's night, and between that and the wine and the good company, we had a warm, wonderful, memorable night.
The next day, hangover notwithstanding, we had two other sets of friends over with their kids. One of the girls who came is six, and Felicity had met her briefly once before, which was apparently long enough for Felicity to fall completely in love with her. The girl couldn't even get her coat off before Felicity rushed over and hugged her so hard she almost fell over. Felicity took her hand and led her to the new dollhouse, then sat next to her and rubbed her back and petted her hair. She WOULD NOT stop touching and embracing her. It was so freaking cute I almost cried, and the girl was very sweet about it even though she was a bit surprised by all the love. After they left, Felicity kept saying, "You LOVE Ella. You gave Ella THE MOST hugs. You played with Ella a lot. You want to go to Ella's house and hug her!"
I suppose it probably wouldn't be as much of a love-fest if we could find an older sister for Felicity, but if any of you have first grade girls you'd like to send over from time to time for some ready admiration by an extremely affectionate preschooler, just let me know.
Another day (now I can't remember which one), I took Felicity to the Children's Museum. They have a Grinch exhibit where kids can make crafts and meet the Grinch for a photo-op. Felicity hugged the wooden cut-out Grinches and gazed adoringly at every illustration featuring Cindy-Lou Who, but when the real-life man in the Grinch-suit appeared, she fled the premises in tears. So. Santa: okay. Grinch or Big Bird: NOT okay. Noted.
On New Year's Eve, Joe and I headed out again (are we wild or what?) to a party with some friends at their apartment. Again, it was just right for us -- small group, fire in the fireplace, plenty of good Champagne and food, lots of laughs. No fighting with crowds or shouting to be heard. Plus I wore silver glitter heels and a sequined top. As we chatted our way through the evening -- staying awake, much to our surprise, until 2013 began -- I wished that I could teleport all of my friends into that homey space and toast all of them to kick off the new year.
So here's to all of you, and to all of us, for a happy, healthy, love-filled 2013. I raise my glass to you!
Your child KILLS me. What 2-year-old says "dancing through a moonlit forest?" LOOOOOVE her.
Posted by: PinkieBling | January 04, 2013 at 03:58 PM
I so love your recounting Felicity's sayings - she says the most delightful, adorable things!
I am very impressed by all your out-and-aboutness. Makes me envious, but also tired.
Posted by: Life of a Doctor's Wife | January 05, 2013 at 11:44 AM
It sounds like you had a wonderful holiday season! Happy New Year!
Posted by: H | January 05, 2013 at 08:33 PM
Meredith, I've been reading for a while now and meaning to comment and never got around to it (reading on mobile devices makes commenting hard) but now I have to, just to say that I think it's a major bummer you live several states away, because Felicity and my six-year-old Camilla would be the perfect match. So much of what you write about Felicity reminds me of Camilla at her age (she even used to say "you" for herself - oh, I miss that!) and Camilla at six is now desperate for a little sister, and awfully sad that she has three brothers instead. I bet she and your girl would have a magical time together. Boo geography.
Also, I am not sure I can manage to say exactly what I mean, here, but: I want you to know that I enjoy your writing about your daughter... it's kind of like the road not travelled for me, I think, in this really beautiful and bittersweet way. Felicity and your little family are so lovely and true, and reading your stories makes me want an only child of my own, which is new for me. I never considered having just one child if I could help it - I grew up in a fabulously happy big family and have always wanted that for myself - and I feel blessed to have the four kids I've got so far, and I love that they have each other. I wouldn't trade what I've got, because it's good for me.
But reading your blog gives me this glimpse of the other side, of the way the parents in a smaller family get to focus on their single child, and it's beautiful. It makes me wistful, a little, for this lovely thing you have... because as much as I love each of my kids with the same fervency of any devoted parent, I simply do not have the resources to enjoy each of them the way you enjoy Felicity. As a child from a big family (I have five siblings) married to an only child, I know that children can get the love they need in any size family. But the parents have decidedly different experiences. And while, like I said, I have the right life for me, it enriches me immensely to read your stories of a life that's so like mine in family love (and beauty and precocity of children, obviously) but different in this particular. Thank you so much for sharing.
Posted by: Arwen | January 09, 2013 at 12:33 AM
Arwen,
What a sweet and thoughtful comment. Thank you so much. I actually have the same feeling about reading your blog and those of other moms with lots of children. It's so neat to peek in on a life that I didn't choose but that is so thrilling in other ways.
And it's funny, because sometimes when I do a gut-check about how I'm feeling about staying with a single child, I realize that if I had more children, I would envy the people who had a singleton. If that makes sense -- that hypothetical envy is, for me, greater than any wistful feelings about having a larger family. So really, the reverse of what you're saying.
It's great that we're all out here, living the lives that are right for us, but we can also get these glimpses of what might have been, with different choices.
Oh, how I love the Internet. :)
Posted by: Lawyerish | January 09, 2013 at 03:25 PM