Monday, November 8, 2010
my big fat greek jewish baptism
Although she was born smack in the middle of the U.S.A. - her father was born in Queens and her mother grew up in central California. One of her parents was a hippie, the other president of the Young Republicans. One is an accountant, the other a dancer. There is no doubt that child number three is a full fledged mutt.
She's got her daddy's dark hair, olive skin, and a name that is taken straight from Greek Mythology - the girl has a serious Mediterranean streak . But she's also got steely blue eyes, a quick smile, and serious insomnia - which is a testament to Mama's side of the family - Irish, Welsh, Danish and Norwegian. Daddy cooks spanakopita, and mom was Little Miss Norway. There's a lot of heritage in that 13 pound body.
And it doesn't end there. Dad - a hopeful agnostic, grew up in a house that celebrated both Christmas and Hanukkah, while Mama spent her school years at a Lutheran college and her summers working at bible camp. Grandpa takes rituals from a Native medicine man, while grandma keeps a mezuzah in the glove compartment, and a St. Christopher medal hanging from the rear view mirror.
After much discussion, Rico and I decided that giving Yoda multiple religions, would be the same as giving her no real religion at all.
So last weekend we celebrated her baptism into the Lutheran church. She has 4 godparents; Rachel, Bob, Frank and Kelley. If Rico and I kick the bucket prematurely, they definitely have their work cut out for them, because although they are her Christian sponsors - we are hoping that someday Nika will have a strong faith and an appreciation for the full scope of her heritage. She'll need to memorize the 10 commandments, understand the Hanukkah story, give up something for lent, celebrate her first communion, know how to spot a good bagel, recite the lord's prayer and travel to Israel. It is also imperative that she learn enough yiddish to use in a road rage situation, as well as the ability to make a passable hotdish for a church basement potluck.
We have no doubt those 4 are up to the challenge. If not, they can always defer to Uncle D, who says we should forget all of the particulars and start celebrating Hanuramakwanzmas.