Wednesday, December 26, 2007

Mary Christmas

In church on Sunday, the kids put together a brief live Nativity. This sparked quite the discussion with my 4-year-old son on the ride home. It went something like this:

“Mom?”

Yes?

“Can we do that game again?”

Sure, we’ll do it Christmas Eve.

“I want to be Mary.”

Okay.

“Mom?”

Yes?

“Next time you shouldn’t stand behind Mary.”

I was just handing her the baby when it was time to be born.

“Oh, so the box you had the baby in was her tummy?”

Yes.

“Mom?”

Yes?

“How did the baby get out of her tummy with no hospital?”

Well, back then they didn’t have hospitals and doctors like we do today. Her husband Joseph had to help get the baby out.

“How does the baby get out?”

(Matt steps in here)

Matt: “She had to push the baby out of a hole.”

“Her belly button?”

Matt: “No, it’s a special hole near her bottom that God made for babies.”

“How did Joseph get it closed?”

Well, the hole closes by itself.

“How big is it?”

It’s pretty small, but it stretches big enough for the baby to come out, then stretches back small again.

“Does it hurt?”

Yes.

Matt: “Mom had some special medicine when you were born so it didn’t hurt so much.”

“Oh.”

Do you still want to be Mary? (I didn’t really say that).

“Only Mommies have that hole since only they have babies in their tummies?”

Correct.

“Daddies don’t have that hole. They just have penises. Why don’t Daddies have babies in their tummies?”

Well, God knew they couldn’t handle the pain . . . (I didn’t really say that either).

Daddies have other jobs.

Matt: “God gave Moms the job of having babies and taking care of them and feeding them and changing their diapers.”

Me: Daddies do some of that stuff too.

This progressed into a long, drawn out discussion of exactly how the umbilical cord functions and another promise to get a book at the library.

Then, Christmas Eve, we got out a baby doll, wrapped Ethan/Mary up in a blue cloth and did the Nativity again. We’re short on participants in this family, so Matt and I played most of the other parts. Ethan’s stuffed tiger and dog played the sheep (the Giraffe played hisself since apparently there are Giraffes at this stable). We tried to get Elliot to play Joseph, but he primarily wandered around dismantling the stable, setting the sheep free and undressing the baby. At this point Mary began chasing Joseph down and beating him. It was unanimously decided that it was Joseph’s bedtime.

While Matt was putting Elliot to bed, Ethan wanted to do it one more time.

“But who will be Joseph?”

We can wait until Dad is back, or I can be Joseph.

“No, Joseph had to go to a meeting for eight days, so Mary will just take care of the baby herself.”

Eight days huh? Hopefully he'll show up for the circumcision.

Thursday, December 20, 2007

Punishment

I once had a stage manager who went around saying “YOU’RE FIRED! And as your punishment, you have to stay.”

As I worried about losing my job and what we’d do about the money, my former boss (the one whom the new VP who fired me was replacing) discovered I was being let go and said he’d look into taking me back to work for him. I wasn’t convinced he could make it work, nor that I necessarily wanted to continue with this company and continued worrying (and re-doing our budget).

I finally came to the conclusion that it was going to be alright and was probably a blessing in disguise. But, that I would consider staying if my former boss came up with an acceptable arrangement. So, since I hadn’t heard from him, I decided to craft my own acceptable arrangement. I made my proposal and it appears I will now continue to be employed--for the time being anyway.

Then of course, I began worrying that I’d made the wrong decision and that perhaps I was just trying to thwart God who had been giving me a wonderful opportunity in disguise. A kind friend then made an outrageous comparison, which, though incomparable in magnitude, is nonetheless valid in principle. She reminded me of Abraham who was asked to sacrifice his only son Isaac. It was only when he had actually fastened Isaac to the altar that God intervened and stopped him. He had passed the test and his son was returned to him. In a much much smaller way, perhaps I needed to lay my employment on the altar, rework our family budget to accommodate it, and commit myself to being a more present and better mother before my job was returned to me. Hopefully now, under the slightly modified arrangement, I can focus on my truly highest priorities . . .

If I’d just stop spending so much time on the computer!