my little princess

Christmas Morning

Christmas Eve

This year we did our first live nativity with the great grandchildren. It turned out so cute.

Anna was Mary.

Singing Jingle Bells with their bell bracelets.

I heard the bells on Christmas Day sung by the Brown boys.

A Christmas eve tradition.

new slippers for Quinn

Grandma and Grandpa Great

Crazy uncle Andy

Before I had the baby, I had the perfect idea for a Christmas Card.

The Nativity.

The problem:

Joseph.

He was in a really really bad mood. So here was our attempt. We never sent out a card-I was just too tired.

Maybe next year!

Mary and Jesus were angels!

On the 8th day

The first week of her life, Charlotte had me completely stumped. I kept thinking to myself,"Come on Claire, you have done this before. What is your deal. You should know why she is crying. You should know how to nurse a child. You've done it before...twice! You should know!"

These thoughts kept running through my head in the wee hours of the morning as I had a screaming little one night after night.

I was running on empty.

My patience was depleted

and yet my little babe was still uneasy.

I prayed.

I prayed my heart out to know what was wrong with my child. The next day (day 8 of her life) I was prompted to just watch her. So I did. I watched and observed. She would cry (more like scream) when I dressed her. She screamed when I tried to nurse her...only on one side. She screamed when I lifted her up. And then the clue that made my heart break; as she would scream, her little left arm would flail while her little right arm lay limp.

My curiosity led me to feel her collarbone. Again she screamed. She had a broken collarbone. I began to cry. My tiny child is hurt and she can't tell me. My mind raced as I thought of all of hours she spent crying. I am so sorry. The next morning I called the Dr's office. At 10am my theory was confirmed. The Dr. wrapped her little shoulders in a sling and prescribed a dose of Motrin. "When you have a big baby and a fast labor, somethings gotta give!", the Dr. said in a nonchalant manor. I realize it could be worse...much worse; but the pain a mother feels when she knows her child is hurting is never dull. It is times like these when I think of my savior. The pain he felt on our behalf. We are so blessed. Oh so blessed.

*yet another lesson my little ones have taught me.

As an update:

We are alive. I am sleeping a few hours at night. My house is somewhat clean. The kids have been fed the majority of the important meals. Everyone is wearing clean clothes... most of the time. I would say we are surviving! Isn't it funny how this tiny little being joins your family and you feel like your whole world is just rocked. Like upside down rocked! Regardless we love it.

more to come...