Every year, my MIL writes a Christmas poem to the tune of, “Twas the Night Before Christmas.” Affectionately known to us as “the poem,” she takes notes on the family all year, and uses these notes to roast us during our Christmas Eve party on a blunder or two we’ve had. My part was so accurate. Here goes:
Not to be outdone by one other birth, Matt and Morgan had a different experience of childbirth. For Morgan it was an all-day affair, Hudson wanted to arrive with some flare. “Did you wash your hands?” she will say with barely a blush, before over Hudson you can get a chance to gush. But the mere mention of a kid sitting behind you with thrush, she’ll be stripped down to her knickers in a very big rush.
Sooo… do you want to hear about how I stripped down to my knickers…at Disney?
It was October. We were celebrating my husband Matt’s birthday at the Magic Kingdom.
We were boarding the Jungle Cruise when I spotted a little boy with a terrible rash on his face. “Is that hand, foot, and mouth?” I asked my husband, who is a provider. “It’s not,” he said, “but it’s very contagious, so don’t get near them.” All was well as it looked like we would be on a separate ship from them, but of course, the people in front of us said, “Go ahead, we’re waiting on someone.” Again, I reasoned with myself that the sick child would be sitting at the back of the boat, while we were stationed at the front, But alas, they circled the seating in the back, and came up to the front, right. behind. me.
While enjoying the various lame jokes of our captain, about halfway through the ride, I felt hands, starting at the top, sliding, down, down, down, my back, like nails on a chalkboard. I turned, wincing, not wanting to confirm what I already knew. RASH BOY. Large, oozing scabs covered his face, hands still touching me. Trying not to be rude, I turned forward, aghast. The cruise captain reprimanded the toddler’s mother for letting him stand while the ride was in motion.
I sat, frozen, for the remainder of the ride. When we exited, I started to cry. If you don’t know me well, you should know that I am an AVID germaphobe, espeeeeeeecially if it’s something that could spread to Hudson. (My friends have probably been annoyed at me a time or two).
I insisted that we leave the park (poor Matt) and head back to our hotel so I could shower. I practically ran to our car. “I have to change,” I told him. “OK,” he said, “you can change when we get to the hotel.” “NO, I’m changing RIGHT NOW,” I said, and with an increasing sense of urgency, removing all hazardous materials and in the WIDE OPEN parking lot, I THREW MY CLOTHES TO THE GROUND.
All jokes aside (and that ^ certainly was NOT funny to me at the time, although I can see now how ridiculous I am), I love reflecting over the year. I think it is so important to remember where we have been to fully appreciate what God has done. I thank God for giving us a son. It has been the best year ever because of Hudson. Nothin beats his wiggly little toes, scrunchy nose, tiny words, gummy smile, belly laugh, or his desire to explore. He brightens every room, leaving every person in better spirits than before. God has done so much for us, and to Him be the glory for everything we have. If 2018 was a difficult year for you, I hope you know that you are LOVED and see hope at the start of a fresh year. With lots of love! Cheers, 2018!
Morgan Whaley 