I had a bit of a paradigm shift tonight when my plans for snuggling up with my children on the couch and reading a Christmas story were thwarted, once again, by a crying baby. It's just not the same magic when you have to shout the remainder of the sentence while struggling to extract yourself from the kids and baby pile, especially when your hubby and eldest are out, taking a group of teenagers to Temple Square to see the lights. HOWEVER, this is not a negative post. Quite the contrary. This experience made me realize that everyone's favorite Christmas carol is a bit misleading. I'm pretty sure that nowhere in the scriptures does it say that Christmas was all calm, bright, and silent of all things. No. In fact, weren't there angels singing? And probably a baby crying for that matter. I think this year a slight change of lyrics will let my Christmas be way more Christmassy. I think the words should remind me that "I am calm, I am bright." My favorite picture of Mary is one by artist Joseph Brickey, actually pictured in this month's Ensign pg. 40 (doesn't show up online, probably for copyright reasons). This pregnant Mary is leaning up against a wall, completely tranquil in the moonlight, looking at her swelling "great with child"ness, waiting for Joseph to find a place at the raucous inn. I also think she looks a teeny bit like me, in profile, so it is a good reminder that I can radiate peace and joy, no matter what is going on around me.
An easy way to find that peace and joy was soon evident tonight. I cuddled my sweet baby and he stopped crying right away. Boston, after a full day of being our Dennis the Menace (let's see...flooding the kitchen floor while I was pumping, dumping out my coin jar on my bathroom floor and kicking it all over my walk-in closet with his friends, making his siblings cry all at once...) took over the reading of the story and finished it off with an encore performance in Macy's chair, snuggled by his siblings, after he had helped Macy brush her teeth.