Christmas trees and my holy child

Last Friday I started writing this post in my head. It was about turkey soup. You will see that turkey soup is now only one line in the post. Then it also had a temporary focus on us going to get a Christmas tree. Well I did a full 180 and ended up with an artificial tree. You know why? Because it takes forever to do a good job with Christmas tree lights and I have two one-month olds. So needless to say, I don't have the time or patience to put lights on my tree. If I had that kind of time, I would have actually finished this post on Friday.

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I have given in to the Christmas spirit. The moment I put the turkey carcass in the pot to make turkey soup, my heart leaped forward to the holiday season. We had plans to get a tree on Saturday but it rained all day. My mom offered several times to come over and babysit so we could go pick a tree, but after much debate, I ended up with an artificial tree. It makes me a little sad because I love walking through the trees and looking for one I fall in love with. I love the smell of the fresh cut tree and watching Brandon try to make it stand straight. I will miss the smell when I walk into the house and how every year the tree is different. But now I don't have to put on the lights or figure out how to get rid of the tree in January. And there are no needles covering my floor.

Brandon and spent this afternoon decorating. I love opening the big Christmas boxes and rediscovering all the decorations and ornaments we packed away 11 months ago. We already received two sets of ornaments for the girls and I know that it is the beginning of many years of my children receiving personalized ornaments. I know that in just a few short years our girls will be decorating the tree with their homemade ornaments. And I know that our girls are way too young to remember this Christmas, but it means something to me to celebrate this first year as a family.

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Tales of motherhood: the other night baby Ana fell asleep face down on my chest. About 30 minutes later I remembered my necklace and hoped it wasn't poking her, as it has a a pretty sharp point at the bottom.

Nope, not poking her. She was laying flat on it and had an entire cross embedded in her face. Didn't seem to bother her. I should have photographed it and posted it on the internet. There would have been crazy Catholics coming from all over the nation to see the child with a cross on her face. It would have been like Mary on the tortilla or Jesus on the grilled cheese.

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I am exhausted. Things are going well, but there is no avoiding being tired when there are two babies to care for. But I love my girls like crazy. They are so cute. I just want to kiss them and hold them. I love how soft and fuzzy their little heads are and how adorable their tiny feet and fingers are. I am in awe that they were both inside of me. There are still moments of shock that I have TWO babies. Two. That is twice as many as one.