My first job after marriage was not glamorous by any means.  I was the toddler teacher for the afternoon shift at the Kindercare close to my MIL's house, where we were living at the time.  While I could totally rock some serious toddler tail now, I was terrified then.  All of my teaching experience had been with kids who were at least 3.  When Christmas came around that year, we were expected to participate in a small gift exchange.  What gift did I give?  I don't remember, but my "secret Santa" was the director of the center.  She had gone all out with several nice gifts from the Dollar Store, as we had a money limit.  The Nativity scene below has always been the thing I love the most from the that time in my life. 

The year before I had spent my time before Christmas preparing for my first vocal jury at the private univeristy I attended.  With a partial music scholarship to uphold,  I was extremely nervous.  I should have known it wouldn't go well when I misunderstood my voice teacher directions (I'm being sweet here, she didn't give me any) and came in from backstage instead of taking the death march from the back of the theater to center stage.  I nailed the first song, but when the high note came in Samuel Barber's Crucifixion, I was flat.  Eve with my best effort to save the song, and encouragement from my "judges", I was humiliated.  I don't think I fully understood the significance of the song at the time.

Hand-painted tree, and ornaments from the first tree my husband and I shared.

 I knew the song referenced, to some extent, the bible verse recalling Mary pondering all that had happened to her in her heart.  It just didn't mean enough to me at the time for the song to come out right.

This second scene has been slowly gifted to me by my maternal grandmother, my Nanny.  I haven't seen her in many years.  My life choices haven't agreed with her plans for me,  but this nativity still means so much.  We open her gifts alone on Christmas Eve, a carry-over tradition from my parents that I've tweaked to fit our life.  The boys usually get books, and they are what I give my mother's parents as well.  Cookbooks, always, for Nanny and something historically interesting for my beloved Grandpa.  There's a book we read everything Thanksgiving that contains a little farmer that looks like him.  It's why I bought the book and why my children's favor it, even if they aren't aware.

With Dollar Store penguin placemats underneath, to balance it out.

When I was pregnant with Winston I had the opportunity to play Mary in a Christmas Eve program.  I sang a solo during a song that my pregnancy brain has stripped away from me.  I can't remember the tune.  But that Christmas it finally all made sense.  The verse, the song, the sentiment.  Mary was so selfless, and knew the outcome before any other. 

Now, Mary is an intricate part of my Advent preparations.  If I can align myself with her heart, then the joy of Christmas morning is infinite.  Watching my babies, giving what I have to give, sharing my food, knowing that they won't be mine forever.  The nativities bring together the two halves of my life, before my boys, and after, and remind me how much Mary's journey can be treasured my all Mamas everywhere.

The song:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kjinh0oy-p0&feature=related

The words: 

At the cry of the first bird they began to crucify Thee, O Swan! Never shall lament cease because of that. It was like the parting of day from night. Ah, sore was the suffering borne by the body of Mary's Son, But sorer still to Him was the grief which for His sake came upon His Mother.

http://www.blueoftheflame.com/atmusic.html