Christmas carol

The cattle are lowing; the poor baby wakes. But little Lord Jesus no crying he makes. It wasn't my cheeriest Christmas thought. But pacing the back of church with my baby screaming in my arms, wailing and wrenching whether I put him down or picked him up, reeling back and smashing his head against my own, all I could do was roll my eyes while the congregation sang "Silent Night." Give me a break, I grumbled. A silent newborn Jesus? Perfection is annoying in the face of a tired toddler, anything but tender and mild. . . . Childhood is full of tears. Rare - if not impossible - is the hour that goes by without a cry. So every single day since my first was born, I have heard wails and dried tears. Tears for falls and fights, tears for tantrums and tiredness. Crying defines childhood more than any emotion. When else in life do we wail in public with reckless abandon? So perhaps it's because my second throws more tantrums than my first: crying in the car seat, wailing in the high chair, … [Read more...] about a not-so-silent night