Kidism’s

I can’t believe how far we’ve come since our first Christmas together.  The boys seem to have grown-up so much!  This is a post from our first Christmas together and it still cracks me up.  We were still in Chicago when this took place.

Enjoy!

Kidisms; it’s a Yiddish term.
Last night we were sitting at the dinner table and talking about Christmas. We found out that the kids have been learning about the different ways people celebrate as well as all about Kwanza and Hanukkah. Now, we are a family of diversity and like the fact that they are getting such a well-rounded education. However, it seems the holidays aren’t just a blur for us ‘old folk.’ Things are blurred and melded for the little ones, too. Here are some examples:

“So, what is Hanukkah all about, you guys?”, I ask.
(They all break into song!)
“Dreidel, Dreidel, spin, spin, spin…”, they sing automatically.
(S turns to me and says, “If they start speaking Yiddish, I’ll…”)
” Chaaaggg…simchaaaaa…”
(We both crack up.)
“Mommy, are we Jewish?”, middle child asks.
“No, honey, we aren’t Jewish but we can still appreciate how other people celebrate holidays.”, I say.

“Okay, what’s Kwanza all about, you guys?”, I ask.
They look at us both and sing, “Dreidel, Dreidel, Dreidel…”
(laughing)
“No, now wait a minute, that’s for Hanukkah. What’s up with Kwanza?”, I continue.
(They are all yelling now; in competition with each other to be heard.)
“Oh, OH!!! I KNOW!! I KNOW!! IT’S ABOUT EIGHT DAYS!!”, yells middle child.
(S and I look at each other.)
“Eight days of what, honey?”, S says.
“Traditions.”, middle child says.
“Traditions of what, honey?”, S says.
(They look at each other, smile and break into song.)
“Dreidel, Dreidel, Dreidel…”

Okay, okay… I’m not even going to THINK about what they are learning in math and history. It seems they’ve been learning about these different traditions, languages, and celebrations but they are all melding into one Santa-Pot.

“Okay, so boys, what is Christmas all about?”, I ask.
“JESUS!!”, they both yell at once.

A few seconds pass and the oldest adds, “CHRIST!!”

He’s already said he was just doing this for the “halibut” and we’d given a stern look. He’s really into finding and using potential swear words in creative ways. We all look at him and he giggles and looks at us to see how we are going to react.
“Honey, let’s just use the word “Messiah”, okay?”, I say while giving him a look.
(We give him a gentle reminder to settle down.)

“Okay, boys, what about Jesus? What was going on? What’s the story?”, I say as I’m waving my hands about.
(One of them gets up declaring he is going to go get his bible.)
Both of us: “SIT DOWN.”
The answers are coming fast and furious now:
“He was born!” “It’s his birthday!” “A star was shining!” “A star was born!!”

I look at S and say, “Mommy, what really happened?”

She tells of the star that guided the wise men, the stable, the manger, Joseph (gets interrupted with, “Who’s Joseph?” which starts a completely different confusion of “father” until finally she just says, “Oh, well, he was there, too.”) Mary, the farm animals surrounding the manger…

“Mommy, what’s a manger?”
“It’s a place where animals eat their food.”
“Were they gonna eat the baby Jesus?”

Now you can see how confusing this all is to small children. Everything is so literal.

S continues, “… and the wise men brought frankincense, myrrh, and gold.”
“What’s that?”, they ask.
I pipe in with, “Gold. You know. Bling.” (laughing)
I don’t know how we got through the rest of that conversation because we were all laughing so hard.
We explained the rest of the story to them and they seemed satisfied with that with the exception of the oldest piping in with, “Was there an Ass in the stable?” (Both of them break out into a snickering laughter.) “Yes, honey…”, and I was so tempted to say, “…and one sitting at this table, too.” But, of course, I didn’t.

The oldest then yells out, “JESUS WAS A BLACK MAN!”
He goes on and on about how Jesus isn’t white and how he’s the same color as him and he points to his arms. He’s very adamant about this point.

“Well, honey, yes, Jesus was a man of color. Do you know where he was born? What town?”, I ask.

They both yell out, “GEORGIA?!”

We aren’t really sure how they managed to meld this into the conversation but it seems to stem from learning about Martin Luther King at school. Somehow, they have come to believe that all black people are from Georgia. We think this comes from King having been from Georgia. Despite our best efforts to correct this… they continue to believe it.

S breaks into song, “Oh, little town of…”
They both yell out, “BETHLEHEM!”
“Where’s Bethlehem?”, middle child asks.

“It’s in Israel.”, S continues.
“Where’s that?”, oldest chimes in.
“Just south of Georgia.”, I say.
S now gives me a stern look.
“Wha…?” (laughing)

After much conversation about the diversities of religions, different cultures, and the color of Jesus, we move on to Santa Claus.

“Do you know Santa’s real name?”, I ask.
“Frankie!”, yells the oldest. We look at him and tilt our heads.
“Teddy! Teddy Bear!!”, yells middle child. We tilt, once again.
“How about Kris, as in Kris Kringle?”, I naively say.
“I thought it was Nicholas?”, S says.
“Only if you are Swedish.”, middle child says.
“Are you Swedish?”, I ask.
“No, we are Jewish!”, he explains and begins singing, “Dreidel, Dreidel, Dreidel…”

We are back to being Jewish.

We concluded this conversation with the “meaning” of Christmas and how it’s not all about getting presents. Yeah, trying telling that to an eight and nine year old. To them, it’s ALL about getting presents. This, despite the fact that we have suddenly become Jewish, speak (sing) Yiddish, celebrate for eight days, with an Ass and bling, and some of us are the color of Jesus.

I’m not sure how much we cleared up for them but I do know one thing: the diversity, in this house alone, is enough to confuse anyone. Thankfully, we’ve got books on all of the subjects and can refer to them. No doubt, both boys will be dutifully reading their bibles while wearing colorful Kwanza clothing, singing, “Dreidel, Dreidel, Dreidel…”, and pondering the population of Georgia.

Happy Whatever You Celebrate