Santa (ie Grandma Carol and Grandpa Dudley) got Lemon all kinds of nice toys. He seemed very interested in all of them, particularly one that has flashing lights and plays music. We figured out right away that his little brain can only handle one song per session though--if you press the button on the toy again to start a second song, he sort of short-circuits and cries.
We also had a nice time visiting with the ever-fashionable Uncle Jared (and Aunt Lauren), as well as Nona and Opa who joined us for the occasion, providing us with our first opportunity for a four-grandparent photo.
On Boxing Day, we hopped on the train back to Boston to be home in time for another big adventure--a drive up to New Hampshire to close on our new house in Wisconsin. You may ask why we had to drive to New Hampshire to close on our house, and the answer is that we have absolutely no idea. Our mortgage company told us to do it, and the path of least resistance was to do what they said. So, we drove to a random office park in southern NH, went to a company whose business seems to be renting furnished conference rooms by the hour, went into a conference room, signed a ton of papers, and became home owners for the first time. After a delicious celebratory lunch with our dear friend Eric P. at the Purple Finch Cafe, we headed home to face the reality of moving.
We scrambled around frantically for the next couple of days, getting together with a few friends for the last time, taking care of Lemon, and getting our house organized for the packing crew. The packers came today and in a matter of 4.5 hours reduced our home of 4.5 years to 80 cardboard boxes. The only noteworthy aspect of today's activities was the packer's thoroughness--we told them to pack everything in Lemon's room, not thinking it necessary to indicate that they should not pack the trash bag containing dirty diapers. Well, let's just say the packers took us at our word, and those diapers will be on the truck to Wisconsin tomorrow. The movers must have thought we were crazy first-time parents, to be saving these precious relics of our baby's first months...
We watched the soaking wet Patriots/Bills game on TV as we were making our final preparations, and I explained to Lemon that no matter how long we live in Wisconsin, as a native of the wonderful state of Massachusetts, he will always be a Patriots fan. Luckily he will have his Uncle Jared to set a good example for him in this regard--and his first set of Patriots clothing in just the right size to wear during this year's playoffs.
I can't quite believe that next week's post will be written in Wisconsin, but that is the reality; we have just 4 full days left in Massachusetts. If I thought any of the weeks leading up to this one was an adventure, I have a feeling I haven't seen anything yet. We've done travel with a baby several times now. Someone said on a travel blog that I read that the first time she traveled with her baby, it felt like moving. I now know exactly how she felt--so my question is, if traveling with a baby feels like moving, what does moving with a baby feel like? I guess at this time next week, I'll know!