Thursday, December 22, 2011

Three Wise Women

I was thinking of the Christmas story the other day and I thought, poor Mother Mary. That poor mama. When her first child was born she was surrounded by jackasses, sheep, and men. I have nothing against jackasses, sheep, and especially men, but when I have just had something the size of a watermelon come out of my vagina what I want to be surrounded by (besides my partner) is women. Women who have been there and women that can relate to that experience. Especially with the first baby. People can tell you what it's going to be like after you have a child, but the exhaustion, the changes in your body, those cannot be imagined pre-labor. At least for me. I had to experience child birth to really know how silly putty feels after a child plays with it for the first time.

Poor Mary, what did she get after she gave birth? Three wise men bearing gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. I do not mean to put down these gifts. At the time gold, frankincense, and myrrh were so valuable Mary and Joseph probably bought their house with them and put away money for Jesus to go carpentry school, however, if I were Mary, I would have wished that those guys would've waited a few days, or weeks until I didn't feel like my elephantiasis girl parts were hanging out and my boobs were soda guns. I would only want women to see me so vunerable, so very, very real.

Really, immediately after my children were born, I only wanted their dad to be with me. Later I wanted my ladies to come in and laugh and nurture and hang out. If it were three wise women with Mary there would have been food. Hot nurturing food. That stable would have been cleaned up, and if it were the amazing ladies in my neighborhood, it probably would have been transformed into a cool ass house. If it had been three wise women there would have been ice packs for Mary's vajay jay, and pajama jeans with a sweet ass nursing top, preferably fleece lined or velor. Wise women would sit and hold the baby while Mary napped. They would have rubbed her back and feet.  They would not stare and awe at this baby because he was the messiah. Those wise women would stare in awe at Jesus because he was a miracle, just like all babies. Beautiful, and exhausting and worth it.

If the wise women were married they would have brought their husbands who would have taken Joseph out to decompress. If no husbands were available one of the wise women would arrange a project for Joseph so he could feel like he had a job. They would have been out of the way when necessary and by Mary's side when see needed it. They would have laugh or cried as needed. They would know how to make jokes about immaculate conception, and babies in a manager. They would know how to make use of sheep and jackasses.

Wise women are very real in my life and maybe that's why I feel so bad for Mary.  I have so many wise women I could not narrow it down to three for this post. I have Jills of all trades, healers, Mama bears, and jesters. I have Mother Marys and Mary Magdalenes, I have Maya Angelous, and Amelia Earharts. I have women who are real, and fallable. Just like me. I have women who, when the jackass shits next to the manager, get down on their hands and knees with a laugh and clean that mess up. That's why I ache for Mary in the stable, surrounded by not her mother, or sisters, or friends, but by her loving husband, who was just as clueless as she, and three old wise men who had never experienced the miraculous and completely mind blowing experience of having a baby come out of your body. I ache for her lonely heart and for her body that needed loving just as much as that baby's.

But the time has past, and that experience was Mary's karma. So what I will say to her is this: Merry Christmas, Mother Mary.  You done good, girl. If some day in our travels through these infinite lives we meet, I will bring the breast pump and the ice pack maxi pads, and you, my sweet, bring on the Prince of Peace.

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