The 12 days of Christmas, otherwise known as the 8 nights of Chanukah because the battery died on my camera and I didn’t get my shit together to recharge it before packing away the holiday weardrobe.
by Ashley Weeks Cart
I had every intention of photographing each of the Bug’s festive Christmas ensembles. Thanks to both grandmothers, she was outfitted for the entire month of December in velvety, red goodness. Being the clever genius that I am, I intended to compile a 12 days of Christmas montage of these photographs, sharing with you, dear Internet, the full spread of baby Christmas cheer.
Alas, that well-intentioned project got tossed out the window when I let the camera battery die, and then forgot to recharge it before scurrying away the holiday paraphernalia while I had my doting minions (aka my immediate family) at my beck and call to assist in Operation: Clean the Damn House and Pack Away All Evidence of the Holidays so Ashley Can Focus on her Thesis (which I am CLEARLY doing).
So instead, I give you the 8 nights of Chanukah (yeah with a CH. I’m pretentious and I’m not even a bona fide Jew) because my mom always said that if our family were religious we’d be Jewish (she gets weepy just talking about when our dear family friends, and one of the only Jewish families in my hometown, sat Shiva with her in the wake of her mother’s passing). And because the Bug’s Fairy Godmother (and Fairy-Godfather-to-be) (yes, we have fairy godparents, an example of us co-opting different religious concepts and making them our own) are Jewish, so the Bug shall be raised celebrating holidays in tandem as we did growing up with my mom’s BFF from high school. Passover and Easter with a hunt for matza and eggs. A rousing game of dreidel with a cup of egg nog and sugar cookies in hand. You get the idea. So, it TOTALLY makes sense that I have documentation of the 8 nights of Chanukah with the Bug bedecked in red and green with a pine tree lingering in the background. Totally.
Generally speaking, Addison’s 1st Christmas was a memorable, joyous event. She was so over-stimulated by our guests that her entire sleep schedule was thrown, and Ursa was so over-stimulated that she pulled a muscle in her leg. So overall, the holiday enthusiasm in our household was next level. FUCK YEAH CHRISTMAS!
I got misty and nostalgic and weepy throughout the day. I blame the breastfeeding hormones, although on Christmas night, everyone in my family shared a dance around the living room with our newest addition to the twinkling light of the Christmas tree and fire-place, and I felt as though my heart was going to burst. To be together, healthy and happy- I don’t think there could be a more perfect gift.
May 2010 be as filled with joy and magic.