The Presence of Children During Worship

Last weekend I took George with me on a trip to Comanche to help my best friend, Melisa, and her family get settled into their new home. Melisa's husband, Fr. Tim, is the new vicar of the parishes in Comanche and Dublin. We were both a bit nervous about the reaction to having an infant and a toddler would be to these tiny parishes that have no young children.

I think Melisa was as pleasantly shocked as I was when we received numerous compliments on our children. The most common phrase I heard was "It's so nice to have babies here again, when are you coming back?" Maybe shocked isn't a strong enough word. I was floored. When George started fussing, I got a few sympathetic smiles before he calmed down.

What a difference to my home parish! I found it rather ironic that although St. Alban's has many children, the attitude towards children in church is nearly the opposite. During most of the service the older kids are in Children's Chapel, a separate room where they learn watered-down versions of the day's Gospel. The younger children, toddlers and preschoolers, are in the nursery during most if not all of the service.

For a while, I had tried to keep George in the sanctuary during the whole service so that he would begin to understand the importance of Mass at the earliest age possible. Unfortunately, that was not what he had in mind. He's a toddler, and acted like any normal toddler would when someone tries to get them to sit still for a long period of time. He wouldn't throw a screaming tantrum, but would fuss loudly for a few seconds at a time.

I don't want to sound uncharitable towards my fellow parishioners so I will not go into details of the reactions towards my son in the past couple of months. Suffice it to say that I have felt most unwelcome in the last few weeks for being the mother of a normal toddler.

I think some parishes have gotten so used to children that the tolerance level for normal baby noises is extremely low, while parishes that don't have many children around are so grateful for the presence of babies that they welcome the noise.

If you have thoughts or opinions about this, please share them.

They grow up so fast...

Last week we converted George's crib to a toddler bed because he had been very good about falling asleep when we laid him down drowsy. After a couple of spills onto the hardwood floor, Sean laid down a couple of pillows.

This morning I had George in his room and upstairs hallway playing while I worked on the newsletter. Around noon I realized that I wasn't hearing any noise, so I snuck into his room and what did I see? George was sitting on the floor with his head laying on the bed with a pool of drool under his face. He looked up at me drowsily and I gently swung his legs onto the mattress. After tucking his quilt around him the result is the above picture.

I'm still a little amazed that he put himself down for a nap and even tried to get into bed. Must have been too tired to climb all the way.

A Blessed Easter to You!

What a joyful time of the year. This Easter, amid all of the stress, has helped me to count my blessings. George and Sean, our safe home, food in our mouths, and extended family that love us unceasingly. And our friends. My heart is breaking because two of my best friends are moving away in a few months, but I am reminded to enjoy the time we have left.

Have a Blessed Easter, Y'all!

And We're...Walking...

It finally happened, George started to walk last night. Now he does not want to be still at all, but on his feet exploring the world. This morning we went to Calloway's to get ideas for the front yard, and he was delighted to see all the pretty flowers on his level. This afternoon we played out in the front yard where he got to explore the grass. Of course he takes a few spills but a kiss from Mama makes everything better. Yup.

You Know You're Anglican When...

...dressing your child, you get him to raise his arms for his shirt by saying "raise them up" and then fight the urge to continue..."if they fall, and in their hearts keep thy peace which passes all understanding..."

...someone quotes from either Star Wars or Spaceballs with "May the Force/Schwartz be with you" and you reply with "and also with you" or "and with thy spirit"...

...you coordinate the color of your Sunday clothes with the Church calendar...





yes. I have.

Lent

May you have a blessed and holy Lent. George sends his love.


edit: Yes, shame on me for taking pictures with my phone during the Ash Wednesday service....but if I hadn't, you wouldn't get to see this adorable face all ashed up. He had pretty much wiped most of it off by the time we left.

Just Because

Oh no! She caught me...

Mom, I can do it myself!

See?

Yawn...time for a nap.

and because Mom couldn't resist....the "look"

What a Birthday

This has been. I've spent most of it on the couch, curled under a blanket, heat patch on my back, desperately trying to find a position that does NOT cause excruciating pain to shoot through my back and legs, and playing Fallout3. A few trips upstairs to tend to George (who, unfortunately, has been playing or sleeping in his crib ALL day), and that's it.

It hurts to walk, it hurts to breathe, it hurts to sit, it hurts to stand up, it hurts to bend over. It hurts even more to walk up the stairs or pick up George. The Dr. at CareNow (that I spent 3 hours at on Valentine's Day, so romantic, huh?) said I don't have kidney stones. That's the good news.

Bad news? She thinks it's just a strained muscle.

I have had strained muscles before. It didn't hurt like this.

The painkiller, Tramadol, she gave me (along with the muscle relaxer) knocks me out for a good 5 hours. However, Sean went into work today so I am home alone with George. I would rather put up with the pain than be unconscious if he happened to get hurt or hungry. Driving is also a no-no. If I were to have one of those muscle spasms while I was driving (especially since now it's starting to creep down my right leg), I could possible get into a wreck. So here I sit, too tired to go back downstairs, trying to decide whether or not to get dressed (yes, at almost 6pm), again trying to find a sitting position that doesn't induce a spasm.

When I blow out my candles, I'mma wish for a new back.

Rock-A-Bye Baby

There is not much that tops rocking George to sleep. The books say that rocking your baby to sleep every night is a bad habit and they become accustomed to it. If you know me, you know I am not a big fan of the books.

No matter how hectic the day or how frustrating his temper tantrums were, when I hear the not so little snores coming from the creature in my arms I am at peace. His closed eyes and pursed lips are so kissable that I must restrain myself for fear of waking him up. Then I kiss his forehead anyway.

A soft grunt and he snuggles against me, still snoring.

Patience is a Virtue

I was all set to write an inflammatory post about my frustrating experience at the post office today, but I had to give George his bottle and rock him to sleep first. By the time I laid him down I remembered the conversation in prayer that I had with God last night.

After participating in all sorts of interweb activities that ended around 12:30, I went to bed frustrated and agitated about all sorts of things. Finances, expensive and time-consuming home improvement, worries about George being sick all weighed heavily on my mind while I coughed like crazy from the cold that has been bugging me all week. I realized that I had been lax in my prayers lately and had begun to rely on myself more than God.

Without going into the specifics of my worries (this blog isn't exactly a confessional booth), I began pouring my heart out in prayer. I whispered to God of the sins I had committed, of the opportunities for prayer I had passed up in the last few weeks, and then I thought one last time of all the bills and paperwork that needed tending. In that moment, I realized that none of it was important enough for me to stress out about.

"Lord," I said, "I don't have the strength to worry about these things. I am too weak to be burdened by this stress, and with You, I know I don't have to be burdened so. Here You go. Take my stress, take my worries, take it away from me, I give it to You. I will no longer worry about such trivial matters. I will wake up tomorrow morning refreshed by Your grace and I will deal with what needs to be dealt with but I will not worry over it."

My days have been centered around me (or George) lately, and it has gotten me nowhere. It dawned on me during that prayerful conversation that I needed to center my days around God. If I make Him the center, things will fall into place. All of a sudden my entire body relaxed and I was barely able to eke out an "Amen" and sign of the cross before drifting off to sleep.

I woke up this morning before Sean's alarm went off and was a little shocked to realize I wasn't coughing, and I had slept through the night. The next thing I noticed was that there was no coughing coming from George's room as there had been the last few mornings. So far today I have taken out the trash, run errands, paid bills, straightened out some bills that needed straightening, and I'm about to put a loaf of pear-raisin bread in the oven all on top of taking care of George. We still have a bit of our coughs lingering but neither of us are congested any more and I haven't been hacking up green and brown phlegm.

What a blessing the Lord has given me, a fresh chance to do things right. Some might argue that George and I were going to be getting better anyway since the sickness had run its course. If you want to believe that, go ahead. But I know that the peace I felt last night and throughout today (except for the short time this afternoon when I began to give in to the temptation of anger) comes from the Lord.

Besides, I made bread today, that has to be a miracle, right?

May the peace of the Lord be always with you.