Dis is too buch for be.

My stretchy pants aren't stretchy any more and I'm certain that if it weren't for the undercurrent of chilly November breezes brushing the underside of my belly (because that now exists) I would be walking around with it hanging out most of the time. No one ever told me that you reach a point at which your maternity shirts no longer fit, and mine have begun to sneak their way up.

Is curiosity a good thing?

Some say it killed the cat.

And Nancy B. Brewer said that it is as dangerous as a butterfly hovering over a flame. William Arthur Ward, however, said that it's the wick in the candle of learning. SO, following this analogy with fire - it would be the knowledge that burns, not the curiosity that led you to pursue it.

This is the perspective I've developed on curiosity over the years, and although my personal experience with curiosity has greatly effected how I think of it, I would have to say that my opinion of it is influenced far more by another's experience on the banks of the great, grey-green, greasy Limpopo river (all set about with fever trees).

Maybe some of you have heard the story of how the elephant got its trunk - it was entirely due to curiosity. A curiosity so great, that one might classify it as insatiable. This curiosity belonged to the child of an elephant, and it drove him to ask many questions. One of these questions was what eventually got the ball rolling, so to speak, on the evolvement of the elephant species. Here is what he wanted to know -> What does the crocodile have for dinner?

I have definitely decided what I WON'T do with my children when they ask me questions about things that I don't necessarily want them to know. I will not shush and spank them, "immediately and directly, without stopping, for a long time." because that's what happened to the Elephant's Child, and that's what made him even more curious. In the end, the Elephant's Child did go in search of the answer to his question and he did in fact find it. But Ward and Brewer were right in their assessment of curiosity, that it brought him face to face with a potentially fatal price at the expense of satisfying his need for knowledge.

I think part of what fuels curiosity is the imagination. It's why, when you were an 8 year old, and you saw your parents whispering, you instantaneously wanted to know what they were saying. Am I getting ice-cream or a spanking later? We want to know on which end of the spectrum our suspicions about an unknown thing would be most accurate. Is this ice thick enough to hold me? Is that possum dead or alive? Is Santa Claus really, real? Or, on a more serious note, is marriage freeing or debilitating? Will having a baby bring me more meaning or more stress? Will trusting in God bring me peace or heart ache? We know that if we pursue the answers to our curious questions we could either end up madly in love, with a purpose-filled life, looking forward to perfect paradise after death, OR we could find ourselves drowning at the bottom of a frozen pond, crying over the lies of our childhood, while rabies spreads through our bloodstream. Pretty high stakes, huh?

I won't spoil a good story, but the risks that the Elephant's child took in order to find some answers did reward him in the end, although some might argue, it was a bit of a stretch. I can relate to the poor guy, lying in bed on this Thanksgiving morning. My belly has gotten so big that I really don't think it's possible for me take another month of pregnancy. I can hear my puffy joints, stretched abdomen, and squashed bladder all whimpering, "Dis is too buch for be!" just like the Elephant's child.

Luckily, I at this point in my journey toward finding some unknown answers about being a mom, know that the sharp pain of being "stretched" beyond the point that I think I can bear, will soon end in an almost instantaneous release, and I'll have a brand new baby boy, just like the Elephant's Child had a brand new, nifty nose.

The comparison of my pregnancy to the experience of the curious young elephant works because it does seem instantaneous, when the pressure is taken off and the benefits of pursuing the knowledge start to unfold. But with most things in life, you aren't given a 9 month time frame. We never know when our assessment of the knowledge that we have gained along our journey to satiate our curiosity is most accurate. But I am sure of this - that there was a point at which the Elephant's Child thought that it had been a huge mistake to go looking for an answer to his question about what the crocodile had for dinner. But just think, if he had not, where the elephants would be today? With nubby noses, no larger or more useful than a boot.

It's time for me to wrap this up and go pay more attention to the things I'm most thankful for today, starting with my husband. But I'll leave this last thought here for you to consider: Is it possible for both ends of the spectrum to be true of the things we are curious about? That is, can a baby not bring me both more meaning and more stress? And then this last question. Is the stretch through the stress not worth the reward of the joys of being a mom?

Happy thanksgiving! I'm thankful for curiosity.

The Elephant's Child by Rudyard Kipling