Claire on a trampoline

Christmas

It's almost 11, and Claire is still asleep. We've had a hectic Christmas and I am letting her sleep as long as she wants and needs. Paul has been up for a while, but played with his new screwdriver and feel back asleep.

This was my first Christmas as a mother where Claire actually paid attention to what was going on. Last year she was 18 months and still a baby, not much aware of her surroundings. In the last year she has developed an incredible memory and keen observation skills. I wanted to start her off right, to teach her the true meaning of Christmas, and to not pollute her with consumerism.

As I thought about it this season, I realized that to me, the true meaning of Christmas isn't Jesus' birth. That is the focal point, or supposed to be, but to me, the true meaning is something different. To me, Christmas is about love. It's about expressing love and gratitude to all those that God has placed in your life. It's about giving, and not material things, but gifts of love and service.

I gave a lot of gifts of love and service this year. I baked at least 15 (I lost count) dozen cookies for the UMW cookie sale. I gave gifts daily to two elderly people through our church's 12 days of Christmas program. I baked cookies for church receptions, for neighbors, and for friends. I had people over for dinner, I shopped for an angel and for two elderly people that aren't able to shop.

I say all this not to get a pat on the back or a gold star on my celestial chart. I did it because I loved doing it. I think it's important for Claire to see me giving and serving, so she develops those skills herself. It wasn't always with a cheerful heart, I confess. A few days I was so stressed out I cried and wanted to give up. But then I would have a conversation with someone, like my old neighbor Jo, and it would put me back on track. I confessed to our friend John that I was overwhelmed delivering the gifts to shut-ins and he told me about his grandmother at our church and the delight and anticipation she has every Christmas as part of this 12 Days program. I confessed to Jo that I was overwhelmed shopping for everyone and she thanked me profusely and confessed her frustration at being blind and unable to drive or shop. I confessed to Adam my frustration with all the poo (literal) that I get my hands in every day and when I fell asleep in the recliner, he went behind me and cleaned house, washed dishes, and bathed Claire.

I find God funny and ironic. I think he has a good time teaching me lessons. I often laugh to myself at something I learned. Every time I get overwhelmed, he sends someone to save me. Every time I judge someone in my mind, he shows me the same trait in myself.

This holiday season I'm so thankful for everything I received, spiritual and material.

La Posada

Last week our whole family had the opportunity to represent the Holy family at our church's live nativity, La Posada. They selected us because I called the church in early October and volunteered. Several families have had baby boys since then, and would have been much more appropriate candidates, but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I really wanted to do it.

I thought Claire would have to be wrangled down and kept away from the manger, but the lady that was in charge let her be an angel.

We had so much fun. I rode a donkey down Clover Lane in Ft. Worth. We had police escorts! Usually you only get a police escort after you die and the coffin is travelling down the road. I got a police escort for riding a donkey! Of course, the police were also there to protect the procession following us, but still, it was pretty funny.

My first attempt at mounting the donkey ended in disaster. He moved.

We had better luck the next time.

I tried hard to be reverent and serene, but those are two adjectives that don't fit me quite well. I was very honored that irreverent and funny as my family is, we were allowed to represent the Holy Family. I was Mary, mother of Jesus! Adam was Joseph! Paul was the Baby Jesus! And Claire was an angel! I still am amazed that we got away with it.

Sheep and camels came to bow down at the manger. Claire really wanted to go pet the sheep and shouted "Baa! Baa!" at them. (Coincidentally, she also shouted that when she noticed a stained glass window at church yesterday. During worship service.)

In this picture, Claire is about to go run to pet the sheep, but as I am holding the Baby Jesus, I am also telling his big sister to stay right there. Adam is attempting to look reverent. He did a bettter job than me on that.

After the drama was over, people came to greet the "newborn" 20 lb. Baby Jesus.

We had a lot of fun and laughs. Paul and I both passed out blessings to people. As much fun as we had, though, I also had moments of clarity. It was difficult for me to ride a donkey, but I can't imagine doing it when I was 9 months pregnant! It's tough to breathe when you're that pregnant, much less ride a donkey!

And as happy and proud as we are of our little "Baby Jesus," I am speechless when I think about the real Jesus and what an honor it must have been to be his mother. A few days later I was working on my Bible study and one sentence stood out to me. "He was born to die." We talk often about God being Jesus' father and he gave his "only begotten Son," but what about his mother? I can't imagine raising a child like that. It must have been excruciating! You know that your Son has the hope for the entire world on his shoulders, so you're proud of that, but he's your Son! You don't want him to die! I don't know how soon Mary knew that Jesus would have to give his life, but my children are like body parts to me. I can't imagine watching one of them die.

Playing this role has made me think this holiday season. I always try to focus on the true meaning of Christmas, but you understand the meaning a lot better when you act it out.

Driving

Yesterday I saw a lady with a cell phone in one hand, a cigarette in another. She was also driving. Today I saw a daycare bus driver texting while driving. What's wrong with just driving? Of course I am sitting at a red light blogging.

Claire-talk

Claire has been a riot lately. Here's a couple gems:

"I'm scared of the trash ma'am." (trash man)

"I not like that song. ABCDEFG Please!"

"Turn it ladder! (louder)"

To immigrant workman "Look at those big guys!"

At my grandfather's house, wanting to pick up his pecans, "I want to do nuts!"

We have a children's CD that we keep in my car changer. It has the ABCs, Three Blind Mice and other kids favorites. Every time the CD starts over, Claire giggles at the same spot. The other day when the music started, she didn't giggle, and that was the first time I realized that's not part of the CD. The ABCs just aren't as good without a giggle at the beginning.

Paul at Flying Fish

Paul holding baby at the mellow mushroom

Communion

Tonight at church, Claire was offered bread for communion. You're supposed to get a bite sized piece. Claire opened her mouth wide and dove for the whole loaf. I wish I had a picture of that.

Showering

Just before I step into the shower every day there is a "major" crisis that needs immediate attention. Today Claire needed a new diaper because of my fast and faulty installation. Yesterday she was out of milk. And somehow, the phone has rang every day this week when I was trying to get in.

And how old do my children have to be before I can shower in the bathroom all by myself without any observers?

And is it more dangerous to leave the toddler running loose in the bathroom while I shower, possibly letting her get into cosmetics and making a mess or for me to let her run around the house, possibly breaking something or injuring her baby brother?

Questions for the ages.

Sarah wants to know:

Why do I keep getting e-mails about animals being raised by other species? You know, the pig and the zebra, the pig and the dog, the polar bear and the whatever.

And is it a bad thing that my life is so surrounded by poop that I didn't blink when I found dog poop on the floor today?

And why does my dog pick the bathroom to poop in? Is he really that smart?

Prince Paul and Princess Claire

Dog Food

This morning Claire asked for a corndog for breakfast. Not the healthiest of breakfast treats, but I obliged. She's drinking milk, and with the breading and meat of the corndog, we've got three food groups covered.
I had to make a short phone call, and while I was on the phone, she ate what she wanted and abandoned the corndog. She likes to eat on the fireplace. It's the same height ratio as the table is to us. She can stand and eat in case she has to quickly run to get Baby Doll or harass Paul.
After I finished talking, I asked her if she had finished the corndog. "It's gone," she said.
I found the stick in Wesley's mouth, licked clean.

Catching up

This morning I woke up Claire by sneaking in her room and smothering her with kisses. "No!" she yelled. "Get-off-of-me!" She's never said that before, so I started laughing.
She often sounds so grown up that I forget she's a two-year-old.

Another event I want to remember is her first communion. It was on Nov. 16. Adam had decided that since we keep Paul with us in service, why not Claire, too? I was initially hesitant, but I agreed anyway. She was actually pretty good. She colored a little bit, climbed in and out of our laps a little bit, and enjoyed herself. Since we attend a Methodist church, there are no limits on who can get communion, so we took her up there with us. I had to direct her hand to dip the bread into the chalice, but she didn't drop it and we didn't do anything germy. Hooray!

I'll add more later.

Here's Claire and Paul after they woke up from a nap.

Welcome!

Welcome to the newest endeavor of Sarah trying to document our lives. Adam and I have been married seven years now and we have two children. Claire is two and Paul was born June 17. Check back for updates on our cute family. You can also find us at www.myspace.com/theboyettes , www.youtube.com/sarahboyette, and Facebook.