A New Religious Journey in the Making

This past Wednesday marked the beginning of the Lenten season; a time when Christians reflect on their sins and come to terms with the fact that they are mortal and must do penance for sins. It's a time to reflect and become a "better person". At least, this is my own interpretation. I am in a place right now where I thought it was time to challenge my own energy, spirit and religion and since we haven't been to church on a regular basis in five years, it was also time to make more of a religious commitment to my children.

There are many events in my life that I wish I could go back in time to as the person I am today. Moments that I would love to look my past self in the eye and shout "Are you freakin kidding me?" or just take a different road. It's definitely my experiences that make me *ME.* My religious journey has definitely given me different feelings throughout different times in my life.

I try to instill the knowledge of God in my children and the thankfulness we should have to him for watching over us, taking care of our family and for giving us so much in our life. But church and lessons beyond home prayer has not been present in our lives.

So here I am, LENT 2010. I had an idea to make my Lenten sacrifice more of a commitment instead. A commitment not to yell at my kids as much and to expose them more to what God is all about and why we pray.

This may sound awful, but I actually bowed out of answering my son during Christmas this past year when he asked who the baby was in the nativity playset at my Mother's house. In that moment, I told my Mother that I was terrible at explaining all of it. She tried to take over and did a great job at teaching, but if you don't follow through on things, children tend to forget. Guess who didn't follow through? I really knew I was in trouble when I floated the idea of going to church to my five year old; Kyle and he replied with "Church? Is that where dolphins live?" Yikes. I kept talking about it the weeks to follow and explaining that it was God's house and people go there to pray together every week.

We decided we would go to church this past Saturday; the first mass of the Lenten season. In the morning, I told Kyle that we were going to church that night. He responded with "What kind of dinner are we going to have there?" Again, I reinforced the praying together; saying some of the prayers we know, some people only praying in their head quietly and the priest and other people telling stories from the bible on the alter. I talked about good listening and behaving...yadda, yadda, yadda. He checked out of that conversation pretty quick.

I had my own doubts even before entering "God's house" that night. I kept telling myself, "Open mind. New beginnings. Learning. Teaching. Humble. Acknowledging my own shortcomings." I was being positive, yet "reflecting that I need to be a better person." The boys didn't know what to make of it when we walked in and saw all of the people sitting in rows facing the alter. I think they thought we were going to see a movie. We sat down in an inconspicuous spot in the back. The boys were immediately taken with the thin paged missalett. They both paged through the books like they were actually reading the words. Suddenly, we heard the organ start to play. It was pretty loud and Kyle was not a big fan of the organ "noise" and the singing. He covered his ears. Instead of crawling under the pew right then, I chose to sternly tell him to take his hands down off of his ears immediately. He fought me a bit and then gave in. He was then taken with the kneelers; which I think every kid is at that age. He wanted it up, he wanted it down, he wanted to stand on it, he wanted to kneel on it and unfortunately, he liked dangling his legs and kicking it while he read his missalett. Charlie was pretty content sitting on B's lap reading books that I brought along with us.

Some things were different for us as well during the mass. They changed the order of some of the "routines", they added in some extra words during prayers and responses, there was even a movie clip that played during the mass. We were puzzled when the lights dimmed and we heard a beating heart rumbling throughout the church. A screen came down and we watched a video about lent. The priest then talked about how some people just go to church every week, they donate money and find something to give up during lent. He told the group that this was not good enough, he explained that people need to change and want to be better. At first, I was sort of taken aback by the fact that all of the items mentioned above were not good enough. But as he went on to explain, I really started to get what he meant.

We stood up, we sat down, we knelt, we bowed our heads and the whole church chanted prayers out loud together. I kept looking at my kid's faces and seeing amazement, confusion and disapproval in some of these catholic church rituals. Overall, I thought they were really well behaved. I was more worried about B and I. Moments startled me like when I started to say a prayer with a different response than everyone else in the church or when I grabbed the coat tail of the woman next to me and she quickly jerked it back toward her or when I held out my hand to say Peace to the woman sitting behind me and she just nodded and gave me a stern look not acknowledging my extended hand.

Later, as I stood here reciting the Apostle's Creed as if no time had passed between church visits, I thought about that past me; the one with no experience or so I thought. I remember standing in church filled with feelings of disbelief, doubt, grief, happiness, thoughtfulness and thoughtlessness. I remember questioning God, believing in God and wondering what I was going to eat for dinner. This night, as I stood before God and his family and surrounded by a much older generation, I somehow felt love and a feeling a accomplishment. If I could go back to that scared or scatterbrained person from the past, I would tell her "Someday, even if you do not go to church all the time, you will be still be filled with God." And even though we haven't been to church on a regular basis, this one visit made me realize that God is inside of me and a part of me and I have given that to my children. This will be my Lenten extension.

As they started music for communion, we honored my Grandparents tradition and quickly donned our coats preparing for our departure after communion. Again, I couldn't help but feel the disapproving stares from the primarily white and gray haired church goers around us. I also realized that it is hard to pray quietly when you dart out the door with children.

We grabbed an idea card for this week's Lenten assignment before we left and suddenly Kyle stopped and asked "Wait, was that it? That was church? It's over already?" I was surprised and happy at the same time. "So far, so good." I thought. We talked in the car about what we did in church and why. I hope this will also help me to improve my teaching skills, not to mention improve on my "church etiquette." All in all, I guess this will make ME a "better person" or at least give my children more of their own religious journey. We'll see.

Staying a Kid at Heart

When I was little, I always thought that nothing could beat being a kid. I loved playing with dolls, matchbox cars and my dog. I loved swimming, rollerskating, playing "kicker", riding my bike and going to the beach. Don't get me wrong, I had my bad times; fighting with my older sister, listening to my parents argue or moments of complete terror like the first day of school. But through all the bad stuff, I still loved being a kid. There was something so magical and fun about every day. I remember one of my teachers telling me one day "Never grow up, Patti. It's too much work."

And so I learned as I traveled along that growing-up-path just how much work it was. I had to get good grades, get in to college, get a job, drive a car, know my way around, make sure I was safe, not be too curious (but curious enough), I had my heart broken more times than I care to admit and I broke hearts of others. I made some mistakes, lost loved ones to a higher power than me, powered through hangovers, food poisoning, wisdom teeth, gum surgery and a miscarriage. What I really ended up learning was not that growing up is too much work, but that with each gut-wrenching moment of badness, something beautiful inside me grew even stronger. I became healthier, more confident, knowledgeable, experienced, stronger and wiser. So, yes a pessimist might say I grew paranoid and more scared of life. But I just call it being cautious.

I never knew. I never ever knew that there was something even better than being a kid; being a Mom. Seeing the look on my child's face when I found the exact Buzz blanket he wanted, that was priceless. When I saw him smile bigger than I thought his little cheeks could go and hug his new wii game, I actually got a bit emotional. Or when my youngest opened up the Seven Dwarves Cottage at his Grandparent's house on Christmas Day and nearly fell onto the floor with shock and disbelief that such a wonderful thing could actually be HIS. I giggled when I saw his little legs in the air as he lay on his tummy playing with the house for most of the next day.

Some moments make time stand still in my mind. I stand before my children simply as an observer and watch as little crumbs of life amaze and wow them. They see or feel something and they just say it or try to explain it outloud.

"Daddy, I really like your smile." Kyle said one day as we were about to sit down for dinner.

Phone conversations from Kyle in Connecticut while I was in Florida "Mommy, I am going to love you forever. I miss you so much."

Some of their senses are heightened too, like colors or smells; good ones AND bad ones: "What the heck is that SMELL?!?"

Their brains are always at work and they come up with some really cool ideas sometimes. One day, they planned a spur of the moment picnic in the middle of our living room instead of sitting at the table.

Though sometimes when they are just beat from a day of school and they don't want to practice their letters and words with me at home, I hear "Mommy, Let's have a snack and watch a movie!"

What they hear seems to be selective when I stand directly in front of them and tell them to put their coat on, it is as if I am yelling it from the next yard. I wonder if the hearing sense is something I should bring to a medical professional's attention. Then I realize just how selective it is when I am having a quiet conversation with a friend and mention Charlie's name and his favorite Jesse doll. Charlie quickly appeared from around the corner and asked "Me Mommy? Are you talking about ME? Are you talking about MY Jesse doll?"

Sometimes I wish I could be this honest and true with my feelings. They feel so much and I hope I can continue to reinforce their trueness. They are really the wise ones. Maybe they can teach me a few things. One day I will come into work and say to my boss: "I don't want to work today. Why don't we have a snack and watch a movie instead?" Or if I hear my name from outside of a closed door, just pop in and say "ME? Are you talking about ME?" Hmmmm....maybe not. But the thought of it, keeps me smiling and keeps me in tune with my own kids so I am still able to make days magical and fun, even though I went and grew up anyway.