Momartfully

Away in a Manger

This year's Nativity Play was a hilarious, filled with adorable miniature shepherds and angels in their bathrobes.

My littlest was thrilled to be playing Mary. The best part of the play was when "Mary" gently lifted up the wee baby Jesus doll from behind the manger... then grabbed him by the legs and THWACKED the doll into the hay-filled manger.

*thunk*

The audience giggled.

Then "Mary" took the "donkey" hobby-horse she rode in to Bethlehem on and laid it on top of baby Jesus - just for good measure.

The audience roared.

Happy birthday baby Jesus!

The Price

On the weekend we had a visitation scheduled with the kids' biological dad. We arranged to meet at a local restaurant where the kids sat with him and M and I sat at a table on the other side.

As the visit was ending their biological dad asked the kids to tell M and I about a visitor they had. Evidently the kids were behaving so well that a man at a neighboring table decided to reward their nice manners. He came over, commented on the kids being "so polite" and handed their biological father $20.

Sounds great, right? Well behaved kids at Christmas? Score!

The ex continued with the story and made an absolute point of telling M and I that HE was paid money for the behaviour of the kids - HE was recognized and paid off. For. The. Kids. All HIM.

He quite happily said that when he spoke to their visitor he took credit for the behaviour of the kids. Then he pocketed the $20.

He didn't even consider letting the kids have the money. Which isn't that big a deal except... why wouldn't you offer to let the kids have it or spend it near Christmas? Ask if they wanted to buy presents - or if they had something they wanted?

Wouldn't that be what the visitor intended?

The kids had it all figured out before we even got to the car. My oldest was disgusted and disappointed, the youngest was confused. The kids know that they live with Mommy and M. Their Dad is M - he's with them every day of their lives. They hardly ever see their biological father - and I think they expected him to act accordingly.

I didn't really comment on the whole episode - it's up to the kids to decide how they feel about their biological father. I don't need to say a thing.

It mostly made me sad.

He may have gained 20 whole dollars from a stranger - but he lost something much more precious that day.

A Fish That Has Ceased To Be

Yesterday one of our family pets passed away.

"Admiral Bubbles" - who I'm told was a girl fish (a girl and an Admiral! Marlo Thomas would be SO proud of my mad feminist mothering skillz with my equal opportunity kiddos). Evidently playing Free to Be You and Me in the minivan over and over again has made a difference.

So anyway - the Admiral has passed on after a long and much - er - decorated career as a fish. Literally decorated - that fish tank was very pretty, stickers, coloured pebbles, shells, a shark decoration that declared "bite me" and even a cloth fish painstakingly cut out of a remnant of material and taped to the lid "so she could see another fish and wouldn't be lonely".

Interestingly, we didn't have a fishy funeral. I always thought that a fish funeral or two would be an expected part of this parenting gig. I could picture the whole family clustered awkwardly around the toilet bowl while a tearful child delivers a eulogy to a beloved former pet (adorable video) and then a burial at sea. It seemed like a universal rite of passage.

In reality the burial at sea was performed by M while the kids were at school. M offered a funeral service to my bereaved son, but the response was that he "didn't want to be there for that."

Wii, Wii, oui... all the way home

My parents were in town visiting last week for a couple days to run some errands in the city and then head back into the wilderness before the next big snowfall. I came home late last Monday after a very busy day and a very frosty walk from the bus. I knew my kids were snug at home, hanging out with Gramma after school and maybe indulging in a wholesome craft activity or baking cookies.

Riiight.

I opened the front door and was immediately run down by two very, very excited kids.

"Look Mom, LOOK! Look what Gramma got us! MommommommomMOMmomMOMMOMMOM... SO cool. So COOL. Mom LOOK!"

I peeled off my coat and scarf. "What? What is it?"

(thinking please dear God don't let it be a puppy!)

"See? Isn't it COOL?" My son held up a white remote control and pointed it at the TV.

Wait. A white remote?

Oh. My. God. My mom got the family a Wii for Christmas.

On a school night.

-----

A couple hours later it was declared that my mom got ME the Wii for Christmas - because the kids wouldn't stop fighting about who the Wii belonged to and who got to go first or got the remote first and who got to play longer or better or which game they played... or...

Sigh. Does the Wii serve Martiniis?