Cussin' on the Way to Church

Originally titled Mass Chaos.

For some reason, Sunday mornings are always difficult. Maybe it’s because by their very nature Sundays are supposed to be lazy and relaxing. It is our Day of Rest in our family (we don’t spend money on Sundays and try not to work).

So making sure 6 people are ready for church (clean, wearing underwear, teeth brushed, wearing “acceptable” clothing, hair brushed, diaper bag packed, activity bag packed) can be stressful. Especially when I have a husband who insists on making a big breakfast AFTER he’s slept in.

Let’s just say I am ashamed to admit I do my best cussing on the way to church.

So one Sunday in November we are all settled in our pew (like Pepe Le Pew!). It’s time for the children’s part where they congregate in front of the priest for a second while he talks to them and then they go downstairs for a kid version of Mass for about 20 minutes. I’m seeing Joel will have problems on this particular day because there’s a 6-year-old girl who is jumping up and down like a kangaroo and putting her hands all over Joel’s head and face. I whisper to Aron, “That girl is screwing around again. Who’s going downstairs to help supervise?” He said he would do it since the baby was about to fall asleep on me.

So the baby crashes and Michael and Callie promptly get into a LOUD fight. Callie almost wrote on his notebook, which I told her she could do. Michael YELLS her name. She YELLS back. They tussle a bit on the kneeler. By now the baby has woken up and is fussing. I’m turning red and trying to figure out how to get them the hell outta there.

What would you do?

Public spanking = not only a bad option if you want to keep your kids in your own home until they turn 18, but also ineffective.

Gritted teeth/Crazy Face = not working as well as hoped.

So I put Eva on my left hip and grabbed Callie somehow around her middle with my right Popeye arm and swiftly walked to the back of the church and out into the hallway. I put Callie down, looked through the glass of the door, caught Michael’s eye and gave him my very best, “Get your butt out here NOW, little man” glare.

For those of you who must simulate this move, my only advice is NEVER make eye contact with ANYONE while you are disciplining your child.

So I turn around and who is standing there? A chick Aron and his twin used to date. Thankfully she is super cool and very understanding about my situation. Anyone with highlights of about 10 different colors is okay in my book.

Man, the blog for the month of November sure has made my kids sound bad. They really are great most of the time. I tell these stories mostly to amuse. The more these things happen to me, the easier it is to look into the future and see myself laughing about each situation (well, most of them, anyway … the ones where I kept my cool and still managed to put the fear of God into the kids).

edited to add: Today at Mass we got many comments about how great our kids behaved, how wonderful they are. Just goes to show things aren't always as they seem. We SEEMED to be all with-it today, yet about 25% of the time I'm carrying a tantruming kid out of church.

Thanksgiving Confession

I’ll admit sometimes I’m a great big cliché, but today will not be one of those days. I’m NOT going to write some hokey post about what I’m thankful for. No offense to those who ARE writing those kinds of posts today; it’s just that (if you read this blog on a regular basis) you can TELL I’m thankful EVERY SINGLE DAY, for reasons I may or may not divulge later. Have to keep you coming back for more, don’t I?

Anyway, today, Class, you be learning about the Catholic Church’s Sacrament of Reconciliation, which my son Joel received on November 20. My friend Smoosh said she couldn’t wait to read all about this, and I told her there would be nothing to post unless someone acted up in church, which they didn’t.

Brief religious history of me: parents grew up Protestant and sort of rebelled, which left me, as I liked to say, “a religious nothing.” I went to a Bible church with one set of grandparents sometimes; a Presbyterian church with the other set. When I was a teenager I “got saved” at a Youth for Christ rally. For a couple of years that’s who I was. I didn’t cuss, I tried to be a good kid, I was all about the JC and was taught in a subtle way that Catholics were people who drank and sinned all Friday night and then did Confession on Saturdays to have it all erased.

Then I started to date at age 16 ½ and dumped JC. I was basically a Bratz doll for about 7 years. Met Aron, who was a lapsed Catholic. Eventually we started going to Mass together and I converted AFTER we got married. I’m now a self-professed happily Crunchy (cloth diapers, breastfeeding, homeschooling) Catholic.

So my little Joel is in 2nd grade now, which is the year kids receive their First Communion in the spring. But first they have to do Confession (Reconciliation). Yeah, I know it’s confusing to have 10 different names for things in the Church. But who cares? What’s important, I think, is to follow the 10 Commandments.

Digression for my non-religious/spiritual readers: I know that YOU know the 10 Commandments are just a bunch of common sense anyway. Except I know you’ll argue with me that the 3rd Commandment is a bunch of hooey, but that’s for another post.

Still, it got me thinking about how misunderstood the Church is. It was cool to watch my son do Confession. And NO, he didn’t go in a room alone with a priest. He sat in a chair for the whole world to see (but not to hear), facing a priest. It was quick and painless, and I couldn’t believe the happiness in the faces of the kids after they confessed.

I prefer to talk to God one-on-one and do that all day long. I don’t go to Confession very often, but when I do it’s like a mini-therapy session. I basically tell the priest that I cuss too damn much, that I yell at my kids sometimes and that I’m not patient enough with my saint of a husband and others.

Ya’ll feel free to list my OTHER sins in the Comments section down below.

Anyway, why do other religions like to put down something that makes people so happy after they do it (I’m talking about Confession here, not sex … let’s not wander too far away from my poorly-constructed argument)? How many Protestants, Catholics, Jews, agnostics and atheists are in THERAPY???? So what’s the difference between talking to a priest and talking to a therapist, except that the priest is FREE?

Any questions? If not, go out and have a GREAT weekend!

Walking Home From Church

Earlier this month, we went to church as usual. And by “as usual” I mean I was rushing around to get everyone ready and we were running late and I was cussing. Just wait: there’s a post coming up Sunday about super-fun church-going.

So after church we’re walking to the parking lot and a friend follows me out to give me her new contact information. She saw me touching my belly because I was full from the Knights of Columbus breakfast and goes, “So. Kerrie. You’re expecting again, right?”

Me: “NO!” Believe me, I was not offended as I’ve never had a flat stomach a day in my life. Then I said, “I couldn’t be pregnant right now even if I wanted to be.”

Her: “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

Me: “No, I just mean I haven’t gotten my period back yet and there’d only be a very small chance of my getting pregnant right now, based on a lot of factors I won’t bore you with.”

Her: “Oh. Look! I see Aron’s giving the kids driving lessons. Are you walking home?”

Me: “Are you nuts? We live like a mile away and it’s November and all I have is my Yale hooded jacket. No way.”

Then what did I do? Like a good, see-all-sides Gemini, I thunk on it. And I started to walk home (telling my husband first, of course). Then I had 3 little followers (Eva rode home with her Da).

It was awesome. We talked, we crushed leaves, we found some milk-pod things, we threw tiny apples in the street to watch cars run them over, we found good sticks, we tormented dogs behind giant wooden fences, we cursed the house whose fence had fallen onto the sidewalk because nails were sticking out everywhere. We had some nice time together and got some exercise and fresh air.

Then we did it again the next weekend.

It’s nice for a Type-A personality like me to be able to slow down a little bit. Forget a bubble bath or a weekend away from my kids. All I need to be a calmer person and a “better” mom, it turns out, is a little walk with my buddies.