Christmas lights

This evening, Evelyn took an incredibly poorly-timed nap.  When she woke, the world was a miserable place and she was out of sorts.  Luckily, Chris had made it home from work by then.  He rocked Henry to sleep and tried to have a little dinner while I convinced a hysterical Evelyn to put on her coat and boots.  Here is one of the best parenting tips I've ever received:  go outside.  Is the baby crying in the middle of the night and you've already tried everything?  Go outside.  Is the toddler having a tantrum?  Pick her up and take her outside.

Fresh air does wonders.  I don't care if it is cold or pouring rain.  Sometimes just a few moments outside can act as a reset button of sorts.  This makes good sense, actually.  When I am completely on edge and the anxiety creeps up to an uncomfortably high level, I often use little sensory tricks like stepping outside for a few deep breaths or running cool water over my wrists and hands.  Suffice it to say, both Evelyn and I needed to get outside tonight.  She stopped crying as soon as I pulled her up onto my back for a piggyback ride.

I took in some cool night air and we headed down the street to look at the Christmas lights around the neighborhood.  When I was younger, I remember driving with my parents and enjoying the twinkling lights adorning each house on the block.  This was a fun spin on this tradition.  Our on-foot version was so much better!  Granted, it was about forty degrees here so we weren't freezing.  After about fifteen minutes, we returned home.  We were both in better moods.