Lessons in Church

We went to church yesterday. Miss M was supposed to sing during the service for the first time as a member of the Calvin choir. They wear red robes in the Calvin choir. K sings with the Cherub choir for another year, then he'll be in the Calvin choir and M and K will sing together again.

I was excited to see M in the bigger kids' choir, but first there was the Sunday School hour. Craig took D to the nursery and I walked M and K to the sanctuary where the big kids gather together for music before splitting into grade levels for school. The early service was running a little long, so my big kids and I gathered at the door along with K's teacher. Before long the service ended and the kids went into the sanctuary. Moments later a woman that I've gotten to know a little bit at the church (we'll call her Y) appeared with another woman (we'll call her B). They stopped K's teacher and told her that they wanted B's daughter to move from the preschool class to the Kindergarten and first grade classroom because she is bored in the preschool class. The teacher was obviously not thrilled with the idea because there is quite a difference between almost 5 and first-graders. But Y and B pressed the teacher insisting that the girl is very bright and polite and would do better with the older kids. The teacher eventually gave in, saying she'd give the girl a shot. After the teacher went into the sanctuary to be with her class, the other two women began to chat about how rude they thought the teacher was for saying something like "well, I am a Kindergarten teacher and there is a big difference between 4 and being in Kindergarten." I didn't find this statement the least bit rude as there is a big difference. I agree.

However I said nothing that indicated I agreed and just listened, smiling B went on and on about how bright, how mature, how wonderful her daughter (who will be 5 in a couple of weeks she mentioned 4729 times) is and how she belonged with the older kids.

Then she turned to me and said She is certainly more mature than K. Oh yes she did.

I told her she was rude and walked away. I have never been so insulted or angry or upset that someone would essentially cut down my child wholly unprovoked. My son was never brought up at any point until she callously stated that her 4-year-old was more mature than my almost 5 1/2-year-old Kindergartner.

Who does something like that to another parent? Who judges another person's child's maturity level, especially only having minimal experience with that child? Why do people have to cut others down to make themselves feel superior?

I allowed this woman's words to cut me. They cut Y too. I cried and as I was crying Y was in another area of the church crying also for me. She's the mother of 4. She felt the insult too.

Later B tried to come to the nursery and apologize, but I told her I didn't want to talk to her. Even her attempt at apology felt contrived and false. She was smiling. I will never be able to smile at this woman again.

This whole incident makes me so sad. Why can't parents support one another instead of making things into a competition?

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I'm also considering making this blog private. If I decide to go this route please send me an email at cool_zebras at hotmail dot com if you would like to be a reader. It looks like I would only be able to allow 100 readers if the blog was private.

Simply Joy Sunday #17

Baptism Day

Moms Day Recap

I'll have you know that I sang the whole song with my daughter's choir...all about how special a mother's love and a child's love is...without choking up until the very last word. Then I choked a little, but I recovered fairly well. Then I had to squeeze between the lecturn thingy whatever-it's-called and the piano and I almost didn't fit so that made me laugh a little.

Us moms even got pretty corsages to wear.

Here's some of the "loot" I was given today:But the best thing was spending time with my family (including my parents and my brother and his family), relaxing and feeling this Munchkin wiggling around in my belly. She's been pretty active today. It's been feeling a little like she's pushing her little fist out my, uh, you know. Which is not all that comfortable, but at least I know she's in there and doing fine.

Easter Addiction and other problems

Saturday night (or early Sunday morning) I was awakened by my son's cry: Mommy! It was the frantic, scared cry that lets parents know immediately that something is wrong.

I scurried out of bed as quickly as my large, pregnant belly and sore groin muscles would allow and entered K's room. He was on his knees in his bed, crying and pointing to the stomach contents on his sheet. My first thought was: Hmmm. No wonder he's not very hungry often. He's hardly digested his supper from last night and it's 4 a.m.

Yes, that's the kind of mom I am.

I went about changing the sheets and cleaning K up, patted his behind and watched him snuggle in for a little more shut-eye. He had no fever, and was more scared about the barfing than uncomfortable from it.

Back to bed for mama, although already beginning to worry about what the throw up incident would do to Easter plans.

When he woke up, he went into the bathroom to barf a little more. Then he was ready for the egg hunt. He ran around with M and collected some of the approximately 75 eggs that the bunny left around our house.

Yes, the bunny is crazy.

He seemed fine. M was scheduled to sing with the cherub choir at the 9:30 service so we decided that K would have to just stay with us instead of playing with the other kids during the service. He did remarkably well for having to sit through people talking for an hour.

M sang beautifully as usual. She was in her Easter finery and I heard several people murmuring "Oh, cute." Which, of course, she is.

Our pastor delivered an excellent sermon, complete with the words "crap" and "bull" (although not together). Nothing says Easter like bull crap.

After church we went to my parents' house. We brought along the new addictions that I alluded to in the title of this post.

Their names are Princess Tiera and Brownie.

Gah! Webkinz.

I don't know who has the bigger addiction problem, M or me. K is not as excited about it, but M has been asking for a Webkinz animal for months. So the Princess is a yellow lab and Brownie is a chocolate lab...which M told me means that they live in a lab. So I had to explain that a Lab is a kind of dog.

Is it bad that I like playing the games more than the kids do?

Random Thoughts #12

It seems that I posted not one, but TWO Random Thoughts #10s, so there is no #11, and I've skipped right to #12.
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Video

My daughter sang in church again today. I post the video because it is so cute, and because my parents missed her singing today and I thought they'd like to see it.

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Reviews and Recommendations

I bought some of those Space Bags that you vacuum the air out of to make things like clothes or blankets take up less space. They work pretty slick. Shopko had them on sale half-price so they weren't as expensive as they would normally be.

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I finished reading DaMomma's book last week. It's a collection of some of her early blog posts. It's hilarious, like her blog is now. The posts were just the right length that I kept the book in the car and read it while waiting to pick Miss M up from preschool.

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I also finished reading How to Talk So Kids Will Listen and Listen So Kids Will Talk by Faber and Mazlish. I thought the book had some good ideas, and liked how it was split into smaller sections so that you could read just a bit at a time and still understand the concepts. I've tried to use some of the techniques they suggest, and they do work if you take the time for it. The techniques can be helpful in adult communication as well.

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Last month, I had a coupon so I bought a bag of those new Pringles Select chips. I chose the sun-dried tomato variety. I found them quite tasty, and therefore they are dangerous to have in the house. I have resisted buying another bag so far.

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Party Time

My kids went to a birthday party at McDonald's Playland today. They were both red-faced from running up and down the climbing toy. They've only been to the Playland 2 or 3 times before so they thought it was great. Of course neither one ate their Happy Meal supper and K only picked at his cake and ice cream. I guess that's not a bad thing though. We went home and made something better to eat anyway.

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Yesterday, we partied at my brother's house to celebrate his youngest son's birthday. It seems like he was just born, he can't be 3 already. That means my baby boy will be 3 soon as well.

Happy Birthday Oogie.

I pray. . .

. . . not with regularity or with sanctioned prayers. I pray what is in my heart.

Most of the time it is the same prayer. It’s short and to the point. I don’t want to take up God’s time unnecessarily.

If I feel like I have more time and God might not be too busy, I have a longer version which consists of the same elements every time.

I pray most often at night, lying in bed before I start to read whatever book I am reading at the time. I close my eyes and recite in my head the same short prayer.

I pray when I hear of terrible things happening. Especially when the terrible things happen to children.

I pray as my husband leaves for work (if I happen to wake up), or on a trip without me.

I pray when my children leave my arms and venture into the world without me.

I pray, but do not have a childhood based upon prayer.

I remember as a child attending various church functions with friends of differing faiths.

Most of all I remember my friend Angie Thompson taking me to choir practice several times at her Episcopal church. I loved singing and the content of the song mattered little to me. Occasionally the choir would sing at a Wednesday evening service. One child would ring the bells before we entered the sanctuary. It was exciting to pull the rope to ring the bells. It was more exciting to don the robes and sing at the front of the church.

Craig and I joined our church by reaffirmation of faith while I was pregnant with my daughter. In truth, I think we were motivated by the desire to have our child baptized, but we have become fairly involved in our church. Our pastor told us at the time that we needn't join based on the idea that our child would go to Hell if he/she wasn't baptized. According to the Presbyterian faith, the child will go to Heaven even unbaptised. We joined anyway.

We don’t often attend the service; usually only when M sings; but we participate in other ways. I teach Sunday School at least once a month. Craig is in the nursery, doting on the babies and helping to watch the toddlers that have older siblings in Sunday School. We’ve gotten to know other parents simply by hanging out in the nursery at church.

Other people in the church know who we are just because we are involved. M is in the cherub choir so I am at church on Wednesday evenings as well. I’ve gotten to know some of the other moms of the girls in the choir just by being there.

The great thing about our church, to me anyway, is that our church is not overly strict. I meet the other parents and don’t feel like I could never say a bad word about anyone because it would be sooo wrong, especially in church. We chat about normal things and are often brutally honest about the problem kids in Sunday School, the irritating things about parenting and the sometimes crotchety older folks of the congregation. The Associate Pastor once even shared a story about some older people complaining about HIS kids being too loud during a sermon HE was delivering.

Our church seems to be dying because there are not a lot of young families attending anymore. It’s sad, but when those young families hear older members saying things like “It’s a shame your kids are so loud,” it doesn’t make for an inviting environment for families with young children.

I love our church because it is generally relaxed. The people are real people who don’t come across as preaching at you or being holier than thou.

Most of the older members of the congregation look at our children and smile. They love their zest for life.

I love going to the service and knowing the words and the melody to most of the regular hymns.

I love watching M sing those regular hymns along with the congregation, wearing her robe, standing in the front of the sanctuary.

I pray my standard prayer when the service asks us to pray silently.

Dear Lord, please keep Craig, Miss M, K, me, and the rest of our families safe and healthy. Amen.

Hey, it's working so far.

Happy Easter.