Our Bairn remains ill. A pediatrician my parents know from church came to the house on Christmas day and checked him out, which was incredibly kind of the doctor and which also made me wonder how we can re-institute doctor house calls. They're great. You stay in your pajamas with your teeth unbrushed and let your sickly baby sleep on your chest while someone comes to you with professional reassurances and medicine. Wonderful. The Bairn appears to be weaning himself, as he refuses to drink anything but the occasional sip of apple juice, and he thinks Christmas is rubbish, as it involves being so sick that he occasionally throws a miniature (hilarious!) hissy fit after too much coughing. It's still pathetic, but I was happy to catch up on some TV watching while he slept on me today.
Despite his illness, he's had some bright spots in his trip to Tennessee.
He has learned how to open cupboards and has investigated the contents of Grandma's kitchen, bathroom, living room and family room cupboards.
He has became friends with Grandpa, although he was initially skeptical about the relationship.
He wore his elfy overalls to Christmas Eve dinner (kindly disregard my double chin).
He discovered all my old toys, including this doll Mom made me many, many years ago. It looks a lot like The Bairn and he is very sweet and kind to it when he's not poking it in the eye.