Merry Christmas

Mateo's first Christmas was a beautiful one. We spent most of our time cozied up with parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents alike in between the fireplace and the Christmas tree, donning scarves and whatever (and whoever's) footwear was in arm's reach to go outside with Guinness and collect more firewood every couple of hours. And, of course, all of this to the soundtrack of the ultimately very endearing electronic, touch-responsive music of the Rainforest Jumperoo, which daily made its way into each of our minds and humming--our own Christmas carol of sorts. (Thank you, Fisher-Price.) A smattering of the day's pictures are as follows:



Just strutting along the kitchen counter on Christmas morn, la di da.



Making our way to the chapel for mass on Christmas morning.

I just love the train embroidered on his hook-ups. Does that spell little boys and Christmas, or what?! Great find, Grandma.

The boys.

Everyday is Christmas on the Jumperoo. (Sheesh, we should now be paid by Fisher-Price for advertising.) My dad calls this the Overstimulation Chair.

The little move that Robert dubbed Mateo's "jig." This would be more convincing if I could figure out how to properly download our video footage. Stay tuned.

We have all spent countless winter--and sometimes even fall and spring--hours sitting in front of this fireplace. (I did most of the reading for my Princeton senior thesis here, meanwhile burning through how many cords of firewood? We dare not ask.) I cannot express how special it is to be here now in the company of this little guy.

We hope that all of your holidays were equally warm and bright!