It looks like Santa left us a baby under the tree.
She's pretty cute. We think we'll keep her. (Though - who has the elf blood around here? Seriously, look at the pointy ear. They were even pointier when she was born. Should we change her middle name to Arwen?)
We slept in, and have been sitting around in our jammies. We made a delicious breakfast, complete with Hawaiian macadamia nut coffee and delicious mimosas. I have been waiting nine goddamn months to enjoy a mimosa again, and ohhh, the bubbly, citrusy loveliness (made with all organic orange juice and Gruet sparkling wine from New Mexico. Yes, sparkling wine from New Mexico. Highly recommended.)
This Christmas isn't precisely the way I imagined it. OK, it's not at all what I imagined. I thought we would be back in our new and improved house, and I'd be making mimosas in my glorious new kitchen, and we'd sit in the sunlight streaming into our new breakfast room, and we'd have a crackling fire in the fireplace, a chicken roasting in the shiny new stainless steel convection oven. But instead, we are in a rented apartment with rented beige furniture. And in the sleepless timelessness of baby daze, I forgot to get Christmas and Hannukah presents for my husband until the very last minute, so we aren't opening gifts today, and I'm feel like a horrible, thoughtless wife. Time just....got away from me.
But I did manage to get a tree, because mah baby was not going to have her first Christmas without a tree. Even if she can't even really see it. It's definitely her tree, too. Can you spot the H'es for Helene?
Here's one. Yes, she will be this spoiled forever. It's our new lifelong mission.
Merry Yule and a happy Christmas to all.