The girls have been dominating the Christmas ornament scene this week, so today, Guy and I did the Christmas book activity together while the girls were sleeping.
I changed the ornament idea that I had planned to something more suited to the interests of my little man...
We got out steak knives and carved the holy family out of bars of soap.
I hope no one finds that offensive, because it sure was fun.
In the story "The Christmas Miracle of Mr. Toomey", our main character is a man mourning the loss of his wife and child. The children in the village even call him Mr. Gloomey. Because he is the best carpenter in the valley, a widow and her son Thomas ask him to recreate a special nativity set that they had lost in their move.
Each day Thomas observes Mr. Toomey as he works. Thomas informs Mr. Toomey that the cows are wrong, because they look too sad. His other cows were proud, because Christ chose to be born in their barn...and his angel looked like one of the Lord's most important angels, and Joseph looked most serious watching over baby Jesus...and so on.
In the end, Mr. Toomey's heart is softened and healed as he carves the final pieces of the set: the virgin Mary and baby Jesus.
I liked this book most of all, because Thomas reminds me so much of Guy right now.
Guy is so eager to learn and work, so ready to offer up the most insightful, honest, wise comments. So innocent. So sweet. Such a darling boy.
I could very easily see Guy saying the things that Thomas does in the book.
So this book will be special to me for that reason alone.
When we had finished our best attempts to create something recognizable out of those Zest bars, we did what any Mom and her 4 year-old boy would do with a little time alone together:
We went downstairs and jumped in our bounce house for a while. And in between wrestling matches, I squeezed him tight every chance I could and tried to pretend he was my little baby still.
And each time I tried to hug him he'd protest a little less and a little less...and he let me hold him a little longer each time, until he gave in and agreed--with a big smile on his face--that he is still my baby boy.