Babies give approximately zero shits about Christmas.  Really.  They’re like, “Okay, so, there’s stuff and fifty million random relatives I’ve probably never met pinching my cheeks and food I can’t eat yet and people wanting me to stay up way past my bedtime even when I’m cranky as hell.  Why is this so cool again?”

That was pretty much the Munchkin’s reaction to our first Christmas celebrations this weekend.  He just wanted to get down on the floor and play, while everyone else wanted to cuddle him and see him do cute things or unwrap presents.  We had some rather frustrated moments as a result yesterday.  Although maybe it was just his complete disinterest in the shiny boxes or bags — he ignored them completely!

On the bright side, he has some really fun new toys.  And he got to spend lots of time with my dad and the extended family on that side.  Some of my cousins hadn’t met him since he was born, which was entertaining.  We had a lot of fun in between bouts of “ohmigod, give me a NAP!” but I definitely consider myself educated about what it means to have Christmas with a baby.

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