Love

Periodically, I engage in this little exercise with my children. Tonight, I played with my daughter.

"Does your mommy love you?" I ask.

"Yes," The Babydoll replied.

"Well, how do you know?"

"Because you take care of me. And keep me alive. And protect me."

That's all I ever wanted to hear, especially that last thing. Reflecting today on the immeasurable love of Christ, I'm hoping that I (and Hubby) reflect that love for our children. Yay for (at least one day of) getting the mommy thing right.

Thoughts not quite related to Easter

• Okay, fine. I'm about half way through The Help and, well, it's getting better. I'm kind of, almost interested. Oh, and I've found some African American women who do actually like it. Some people might think that this means I was wrong, but it doesn't, okay?


• It's near the semester's end and the sentence "I just want to talk to you about my grade" rings through the hallway outside the department office doors.


• Again, who are the people who are seriously interested in the royal wedding? I think journalists are insisting that Americans want to know so that they can take a trip themselves.


• Trying again to relay the resurrection story to my children. I thought it would be more and more difficult as they grew older and understood more, but they absorb it and are less freaked out by it than I thought. That makes me happy.

Happy Easter

I couldn't really get my daughter a new Easter dress or make her an Easter basket (I can't wait to do both), but I could tell her the Easter story (which is probably the most relevant thing to do anyway). So, as I held her tonight, I began telling the story of how Jesus was sent to Earth to save humanity from sin. And there I had to stop. What? Sin? Was this appropriate for a 35-weeker/2-month-old? I mean, really, the Easter story is filled with betrayal, abuse, pain, and murder. What is that to tell a child? She has to deal with heel sticks and horribly invasive breathing machines already so I try to fill her mind with only good words and images.

Unfortunately, bible stories do not fit the bill. Once, when I attempted to switch up the reading of Oh, Baby, the Places You'll Go with the story of David and Goliath, I had to edit mid-read. There was war and killing and decapitation. Horribly inappropriate. The baby must have thought so, too, because she had her first apnea spell with us that day. I'll give that book away to someone who has older kids.

Growing up in the church caused bible stories to become interwoven into the fabric of my consciousness so that I knew them, but I didn't really see the details of them. I didn't realize how violent and racy they are. Now, I see that in addition to the abuse and murder, there are swindlers, and hookers and rapists and people turning into salt. I am going to have to sanitize all of this for the baby before she can hear any of these stories. (By the way, that David and Goliath book was a children's book so I think they had already tried to sanitize it.)

In the meantime, DH doesn't want to tell her stories about Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. Although I'm definitely going to rail against that request at Christmas time, I am considering railing now. I've always thought the idea of a gigantic rabbit bringing candy and eggs (what do rabbits have to do with eggs, anyway?) to kids to be a ridiculous notion. Now, however, the Easter Bunny seems quite benign. He's already sanitized and kid-friendly. Perhaps that is the story I will tell. At least until she's two.