I'm tired

It's about to turn into christmas day (it's 11.26 pm here) and I'm tired. David has just stopped crying and has hopefully gone to sleep but I need to leave it a few mins before going up so I don't wake him. It's foggy outside, I could hardly see the traffic lights down the street as I drove home for my in-laws. I took some criticism (fairly light hearted) for not letting David have sweets or ice cream. After all, it's christmas. What he doesn't know about can't hurt him.

I think I'm doing the right thing. The health professionals and nutrition people I know all think I am, but as a new parent I can only guess at what seems like a good idea to me. It almost seems wrong to fly in the face of the conventional wisdom that my parents generation (and older) applied to us kids. After all, we never died and turned out ok ! And my mum was right about feeding David a little bit of water, it would have made life easier later on. I suppose I have to be true to myself, whatever that fasionable buzz-word expression means.

Talking of true to myself, maybe you've heard but it's christmas. We celebrate God being born with my limitations on this day every year. Well at least I like to think I do, most people celebrate over-eating, over drinking and over spending.. I am more than a little irritated with Santa Claus. There won't be any Father Christmas in my house, no cookies left for him and no carrot for rudolph. No dreaming of a white christmas (do you know how many extra road traffic accidents there are in the snow? and there's no time on christmas day to even build a snowman.. no give me snow a couple of days later if at all..) Because of the rush I haven't even erected a tree. Poor show. I have bought a few gifts for people though, but probably not all the people I ought to buy for.

But God was born. He had common peasants as his guardians, with a rough accent that distinguished them as being from a poor little town were nothing good ever happened. He lived as a carpenter, an honest living but rough on the hands. His earthly father is suspected of dying young, and God would have grieved for him. God lived a life like mine, suffered pain, only it wasn't like mine because he lived his perfectly and I never do. He suffered more pain than I ever have or will, even if my life is a wretched tunnel of torturous drudgery and pain from now on. Thats pretty miserable really, you wonder why we would celebrate that.

How bad does a stable smell? God would know, it was his first smell out of the womb.

I celebrate christmas because God being born meant he also died and he then rose again t life. And because of his love and sacrifice I too can have a life that is more than drudging an existence, running from one christmas decoration and No 1 to the next without ever really being alive in my spirit, feeling my heart on fire with God. And I know that one day I will be with God in heaven and have a great party.

Happy christmas. Mine is sadder this year, probably why I'm so thoughtful. My mum is not here this year and I miss her. So does dad, I see it. Busyness can be great distraction, but in the middle of the night it's not much comfort when the void is felt. God's presence comforts me, and the knowledge that she is safe in heaven helps a bit too. I still wish she were here.

Good night