As I prepared lunch for the girls just now:
Noa: “But Mooooooommmmmy. I don’t want a pbj sandwich. I want a salad sandwich like you have.”
Yes, she was whining, but how could I say, “no”? She got her salad sandwich: two pieces of bread, tomatoes, lettuce (“three big pieces of salad”), and cucumbers with a little dressing. And she enjoyed the whole thing. That’s my girl!
A while back, Noa was going through a really whiney/fussy stage. Eric and I found ourselves appealing to her age to try to get her to stop (not the most biblically-based parenting style, I know). So we’d often ask her, “Noa, how old are you?”
So one day, it had happened a few times, and when she was whining Eric asked her how old she is.
She got the most exasperated expression and tone and said, “Daaaaaaddyyyyyy. How come you keep forgetting that I’m four?!?!”
Noa came out of her room on her phone,
Noa: Ok, bye (getting “off” the phone). Hey mom. My friend whose name is ‘boy’ just called and he’s coming over to pick me up for a date. I need to go get beautiful.
I am SOOOOO not ready for this.
Even if it’s all in her imagination.
Yes, she’s not even four and a half yet.
The last several days the girls have be constantly acting out the Christmas story, particularly Mary with the baby in her belly and right after the baby is born. Noa is always Mary. Sometimes Martha is an Angel or a shepherd, and sometimes she is a second Mary. And Gloria is always a wise man who brings toys to baby Jesus.
All this has reminded me of a Noa’s obsession 2 years ago, after watching us perform the living nativity as an outreach in Japan. This is the post I wrote then:
So. We are still talking about the Christmas story, particularly the Living Nativity play, two and a half months later. The conversations usually go something like this:
Noa: (with some sort of stick or post that looks like a staff): Look, Mama, I’m Jofes!
Me: That’s great. Who is Joseph?
Noa: (in her sweet, “I’m-talking-about-a-baby” voice”) Baby Jesus’ daddy.
Me: Do you want to be Joseph in the Christmas play?
Noa: No. Noa be a sheep.
Me: Oh that’s great. You are cute little sheepy. What do sheep say?
Noa: (in a tiny little voice) Beh Beh.
(at this point in the conversation she will sometimes get on her hands and knees and ask for a “sheepy treat” which is me pretending to feed her something and her eating it out of my hand).
Me: (petting her head) I love my little sheep.
Noa: No. Noa be Angel. Say Ha-Ye-Yu-YA!!
Me: That’s right. The angels sang Hallelujah when Baby Jesus was born.
Noa: (At the mention of the Baby, she stops. She gets really excited) No. Noa be Ma-yeee. (and in her soft, almost sad, “I’m-talking-about-a-baby voice and holding her arms up close to her head as if she is cradling a baby) Ho-old Baby Jesus.
Me: Yes, you could be Mary and hold sweet Baby Jesus.
Noa: Mommy Ma-yee? (I was Mary in the play)
Me: Yes, I acted like Mary. And Daddy was Joseph.
Noa: (picking up her forgotten staff and following that train of thought) Look, Mama! Noa Jofes…
AND, SO IT GOES…
I am really enjoying hearing the children talk about Jesus and his birth. We decorated for Christmas yesterday and have two different nativity sets that they can play with. For the last half hour or so, Noa has been directing a worship service, complete with many songs about baby Jesus, as well as instructions for all of us to
“Open your Bibles. If you don’t have a Bible you can use one of our pews…”
We keep our kids with us in Sunday morning worship and I always wonder if they pick up any of what they hear… I guess they do!
I’m also loving Miss Martha walking around with the Little People nativity baby Jesus under her shirt saying,
“I Mary. I have baby Jesus in my belly.”
And it gives me reason to pause and contemplate when Noa, in her narrative, with total passion says,
“Look, those soldiers are coming to take Baby Jesus and they’re putting him on the bad ol’ cross!”
We always pray our kids will connect the baby in the manger with the Savior on the cross. When she said that this morning it sounded so horrific to me and I realized how often there is a disconnect in my own mind – and heart – between the two. It’s good for my heart to stop and reflect that indeed, the sweet babe would live to be the man brutally killed for my sin. What a reason mourn, but what a reason to celebrate! And even more so, because, even as I wrote this, Martha pulled the baby from under her shirt and reminded us all:
“Look! Jesus is ALIVE!”
Amen!
Noa, who is obviously picking up on my weepiness of the last several days, as she cried real tears just told me,
“I want to go back to Virginia, so I can play with Paul [sob sob sob].”
Oh, Paul, how we miss you!
To read about Paul and his cool parents and brothers, you can see their family blog here.
