Christmas Eve brought with it the first snow of the year and Billy's first white Christmas. He woke up from nap to the white stuff everywhere. When he went to sleep the world was green, and when he woke up the world was white and snow was falling from the sky.
We were watching out the back window and I had let Buddy go outside to do his business. Which, of course, being a dog, he did.
"Mommy, Buddy poop snow!" [toddler translation- Buddy pooped in the snow]
Yes, Billy. Buddy goes outside for the potty. We've had this talk many times and he repeated it once and thought nothing more of it.
Then it was time to run off to Church. Our Church has a Children's Mass on Christmas Eve in the late afternoon. This works out well to get the religious stuff done first. Then there's no rushing out the door Christmas morning and crying about new toys sitting there unopened. I don't know anything about that.
Well, I had been explaining to Billy that we were going to Jesus' birthday party. Close enough. We rarely go to Mass (I'll explain why in a moment) and he's too young to really get the meaning of Christmas. But he does know about birthday parties and giving presents to others for their birthday. And officially, Christmas is Jesus' birthday celebration (even if scholars now believe it was during the summer, this is when we celebrate).
Most importantly he wanted to see the baby Jesus.
Daddy hadn't finished his shopping so we were late to Mass. But we still made it. And honestly, 1.5 hours in Church with a toddler is a lot to ask of the toddler.
Twenty minutes in Church is a lot to ask of a toddler.
And so, right in the middle of the Consecration of the Gifts, Billy shouts, "Buddy poop snow!"
Yeah, that's my kid. Ash Wednesday he shouted that he wanted "Caca!" (cracker) and Christmas it's "Buddy poop snow!" Luckily, Daddy didn't understand what he said, so I'm hoping few others understood either.
That prompted a trip to the potty.
When we got back to the pew Billy refused to sit still. Daddy walked him around. Then me. We did the whole Eucharist bit and then went to see baby Jesus. One of the chapels has a nativity scene in it up on the altar.
I think Billy was disappointed that baby Jesus wasn't a real baby, but a statue. Still, it was dark, lit only by candles and lanterns and the sounds of the choir echoing in from the main part of the Cathedral. I asked him if he wanted to wish him a happy birthday.
He whispered, "Happy Birthday, baby Jesus!"
We also attended a Christmas party after Church with Grandma in the treacherous snow. Billy had a grand time and was up well past his bedtime playing with the children of my oldest and dearest friend.