“It’s like he knows it’s Christmas,” Mr. Burt moaned, sometime between 3:30 and 4 on Christmas morning. We were staying with my parents, and the Burt Squirt had been awake since 1:30. Mostly chattering and chuckling as Mr. Burt snuggled with him in our bed, rocking having failed to produce any result than making our nine month-old scream.

I replied that I’d been about to say the same thing. While I wasn’t surprised to have passed on the inability to sleep on Christmas Eve that had plagued me since childhood, I hadn’t expected that trait to manifest in the Burt Squirt at such an early age. Especially since he virtually ignored Christmas trees and burst into tears at the mere sight of Santa Claus.

As it turned out, Christmas Day showed us the true reason for the Burt Squirt’s restlessness:

He cut his first tooth.

Which, I suppose, was a rather Christmassy thing to do. (Clever boy.)

Maybe that was why he cried when he sat in Santa’s lap: he told him he wanted teeth, but he knew it was really going to hurt. (Poor baby.)

The Yuletide teething didn’t catch us completely unawares, as the previous day’s lunch at Braums gave a revelatory glimpse of a whole mouthful of chompers ready to pop.

Yes, that’s a plastic ketchup cup we let the Burt Squirt play with while we ate our hamburgers and ice cream cones. (Inventive lad.)

Lucky for the Burt Squirt–not to mention the parents desperate to distract a grumpy teething baby–he didn’t just get his bottom front tooth for Christmas:

That’s just Liam’s pile.

Not even thinking about that new tooth!

Well, maybe even a pony, Woody doll, musical walking toy, phone, garage and trucks, snappy beads, talking stuffed dog, ball, and alphabet puzzle mat don’t totally make up for teething.

But even if we were a little sore–and sleepy–we still had a very happy first Burt Christmas.

My favorite albums in my music collection are the Christmas ones, and this year I have a favorite among my favorites: Loreena McKennitt’s A Midwinter Night’s Dream.

As all her albums do, this one captured me from the first melancholy strains of “The Holly and the Ivy”. I know, you’re thinking, “But ‘The Holly and the Ivy’ isn’t a melancholy Christmas carol!” Leave it to Loreena McKennitt to transpose a cheerful tune into a melancholy key. Unexpected, yes–but that’s what fans have come to expect from McKennitt, and the mood she sets at the beginning of the album suits the central symbol of the season–light into dark–and this theme is brilliantly rounded out with the folksy instrumental arrangement of “In the Bleak Midwinter” as the album’s final track.

My only quibble with the album is that McKennitt recycles the five tracks from her 1995 Christmas album, A Winter Garden: Five Songs for the Season, but as they’re all excellent carol arrangements/McKennitt originals, that’s not a complaint so much as bemoaning the lack of new material by this incomparable artist.

As it’s a little late to get your hands on this album before the holiday season is over, here are the videos of my favorite tracks on the album for your enjoyment, the first being a chance to see McKennitt herself performing in the recording studio (although, having had the treat of seeing her perform live, I only wish this video showed her accompanying herself on her varied assortment of instruments).

(In the course of writing this post, I discovered that Loreena McKennitt just released a new album in November. Had I known, I would have asked for it for Christmas! Well, if you have yet to get me a present…)

When Mr. Burt and my parents asked me what I want for Christmas this year, I had a hard time coming up with anything. (This is saying a lot, considering my Christmas lists used to bear an alarming resemblance to Sally Brown’s.) It was much easier for me to come up with what I don’t want (heavy sweaters, sweatshirts, button-down shirts that have to be ironed…to which Mr. Burt replied in bemusement, “Does that leave anything at all for me to give you?” and which may not be so far removed from old Sally after all); I’m content with the things I have, and there’s very little else that I need.

Except for sleep. But last I checked, sleep doesn’t come gift-wrapped.

It’s been two weeks since Mr. Burt and I had a good, solid night of sleep, thanks to the Burt Squirt going through one of those physical development stages (learning how to pull himself up on the crib rail and beginning to walk) notorious for throwing off sleep schedules. (Also, gas.) Mr. Burt, I think, is actually getting less sleep than I am most nights–though apparently he’s not keeping count.

I, however, am.

Now, I learned rather early on in this parenthood venture that score-keeping is the quickest way to lose the marriage game, so it’s not that I’m sitting up in the middle of the night doing fuzzy math as the Burt Squirt nurses and resenting Mr. Burt for being snuggled up in bed. No, I’ve developed a more noble kind of arithmetic that revolves around me obsessing over Mr. Burt getting as much sleep as I do. Or me losing as much as he does. And me feeling guilty if I get more. Because that just wouldn’t be fair, would it?

A word problem:

If LR goes to sleep at 11ish at night and Mr. Burt at 11:30ish and the Burt Squirt wakes up at 1:30ish in the morning and Mr. Burt gets up with him, not coming back to bed until 3:00ish, how many hours of sleep did LR and Mr. Burt get if LR only slept intermittently during the hour and a half Mr. Burt was trying to soothe the Burt Squirt back to sleep and then got up to feed the Burt Squirt from 3:00ish until 3:30ish but was too wired to fall asleep until after 4ish and then was up at 7ish and Mr. Burt got up at 8ish?

I never was able to come up with an exact answer to my muddled math problem, but I got the gist of it across to Mr. Burt in conversation as we showered and dressed this morning:

LR: “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t sleep very much while you were up with the Burt Squirt.”

Mr. Burt: “Why would that make me feel better?”

LR: “Because we got the same amount of sleep. Misery loves company.”

Mr. Burt: “Oh. I’d rather you actually get sleep.”

For the first time in nine months of being a mom (and in six and a half years of being a wife, really, because I’ve always struggled with (unfounded) feelings of guilt and fear that Mr. Burt might resent me for not being a monetary contributor in our relationship), it hit me:

I don’t have to feel guilty about getting more sleep than my husband does.

Because he loves me.

And fairness and equality, while both very essential ingredients for a successful marriage, don’t have all that much to do with love.

Misery may love company, but love hates misery. After all, love is why we get up when the Burt Squirt cries in the middle of the night and lose all this sleep in the first place.

It brings to mind the words of one of my favorite Christmas carols: What I can I give Him / Give my heart.

Mr. Burt may not be able to give me exactly what I want for Christmas, but he gives me the one thing I really need.

As for sleep…maybe that’s what the Burt Squirt will give to me.

No matter how easy text messages, email, Facebook, Twitter, even blogs make it to keep in touch with loved ones, none of them quite beats the thrill of opening your mailbox on brisk December afternoons and pulling out a Christmas card from a friend or relative (Unless you’re poor old Charlie Brown, and then you don’t know what I’m talking about). Sending cards makes me as happy as receiving them, and thanks to hitting some pretty amazing after-Christmas clearance sales the past two years, I’ve got enough cards stored away for many Christmases yet-to-come.

Except that when I went into my clearance buying frenzy, I didn’t think about the fact that this  Christmas, I’d be the mommy of a nine month-old and have no time to write Christmas cards. Or that I’d want to send personalized Christmas cards, with a picture of the not-so new baby (and possibly his parents).

So, despite having the dozens of Christmas cards in my stationery drawer, I’ll be purchasing cards from Shutterfly.

I first discovered Shutterfly last March, when the Burt Squirt was born and I received a coupon for birth announcements in a packet from the hospital. Since I had a newborn and really didn’t have time to go to a lot of trouble for birth announcements, I checked out the site. The design selection thoroughly impressed me, as did the simplicity of uploading a picture and personalizing the text. All told, I spent about ten minutes creating and ordering beautiful announcements (that I still see hanging on friends’ and family members’ refrigerators), and two or three days later they arrived in the mail, ready to be stuffed into envelopes and mailed. The price was good, too, especially because of the online coupon code I found for free shipping.

My experience as a Shutterfly customer was so good that I won’t consider ordering anywhere else. With 30% off cards and free shipping for orders of $50 and over (and an additional 5% off coupon code), I hardly feel guilty about not using all those cards I already bought. The hardest part is choosing between all of the adorable Christmas photo card and holiday card designs!  (I think I’m going with the Retro Ornaments Green to highlight the family picture I chose for this year’s card.)

And did I mention that for blogging about Shutterfly, I’m getting 50 FREE holiday cards–and you can, too?!

So check your mailboxes this December, because you may just find a Shutterfly card from me! (But if you don’t, it’s not because you’re Charlie Brown. It’s just because you didn’t send me a card last year. *wink*)