Baby Jesus

Anyone who knows me, knows my obsession with Christmas. I love it, I dream it, I sing it, I eat, drink, and breathe it. The only one who despises my obsession with Christmas is the ceramic baby Jesus. For years I have been hiding the Baby Jesus in various places and have even held him hostage before. He has lived hung deep inside the Christmas tree. He has topped cream cheese dips, ridden all the barnyard animals, gotten dizzy riding the carousel for hours on end, rode an Olivia Newton John record on the wrong setting, and has even been wrapped up and given as a present to my mom, who happens to be the rightful guardian. I thoroughly enjoy the creative places and positions in which I have placed him over the years. People know to hide their Baby Jesus' when they know I am coming over. Yes, it is that bad. This year, however, something was wrong. I had no desire to remove the Baby Jesus from his cozy manger. My friend Tara told me now that I am pregnant, I should leave the Baby Jesus alone this year. Weird...my thoughts exactly. What has happened to me? Why am I no longer thrilled being yelled at by my mom to "return the damn Baby Jesus NOW Joanna!!!"? Has my maternal instinct finally kicked in and I am suddenly protective of a ceramic token? All I can do is wait and see what next year brings. In the meantime, I will not post pictures of the Baby Jesus in the bathtub, in the flour container, or smoking a cigarette. I will, however, post pictures of my growing Baby Clarky instead. If you are disappointed, contact me and I can send you the file entitled "Baby Jesus is Bored in His Manger".

This was taken an hour before Baby Clarky's first (our 3rd) P Street Wacky Santa Hat White Elephant Midtown Pub Crawl. Last year I got kicked out of a bar for slapping customers with a ham steak at the last stop at 2am. This year, I got a burrito at the 3rd bar at 10 pm and was in bed shortly after.


Christmas Eve...22 weeks prego...