"Dear baby Jesus..."

I'm not a big movie watcher or movie quoter, but there is a scene from a ridiculous comedy in which the main character is praying for supper that makes me giggle every time I think about it and I do often quote the opening line of his final prayer.

The character repeatedly uses terms like "baby Jesus" or "tiny Jesus" in his prayer. 

Finally, after a half dozen times the wife interrupts the prayer and says "you know Jesus grew up right?"  

The main character responds "I like to picture my Jesus as Christmas Jesus. I'm doing the praying.  When you are praying you can picture Jesus however you want!"  

There is a brief exchange where other family members start throwing out how they want to picture Jesus: in a tuxedo shirt, a ninja, bearded Jesus, Jesus with wings...then finally the prayer begins again and the main characters says "Dear 8 pound 6 ounce baby Jesus never did no wrong...."

Am I the only mom out there that simply never pictured anything beyond "Christmas Jesus" when it came to our kids?

When Matt and I started talking about entering into the scary role of parenthood we never once talked about our future big bearded children.  We pictured babies to snuggle, toddlers to play with, kids playing sports, riding bikes and going on adventures with us, never adults.  I knew they wouldn't stay babies for long, but I never really pictured them as nearly 6ft tall young men.

We spend all this time preparing for a baby, when really those few years, while exhausting, were really just a snap in time, a fleeting moment gone before you know it.  The real hard work comes later when you are trying to teach them how to be loving, kind, hard working, noble, upright humans.  The work is even harder when you see your humans making choices you know will cause them harm or when you are preparing for your little swaddled up baby to leave for college.

As the older one enters his Senior year of high school I find myself wanting time to stand still, for him to stay and be my baby a little longer.  I don't want to let him go. Dear little 8lb 9 ounce bald baby with big brown eyes, a raspy voice, and the propensity to make up random words....don't go.

While at the same time as the younger enters his first year of high school I often hope the time will go by quickly, because some of these trials seem too difficult to face and living through four whole years of him trying to decide who he will become seems daunting.  I want to fast forward to him being a mature young man chasing dreams. Dear 9 lb 3 ounce baby boy with a head full of hair, the sweetest cuddler, and roller coaster of emotions...you are loved so much and I want you to reach your fullest potential.

Dear 8 pound 6 ounce baby Jesus....thank you for my boys.

Dear beaten, crushed, mocked, murdered, resurrected savior, keep them in your grip, guide them, protect them, teach them, show your love to them.