This May Be A Dream Come True

May 4, 2015

An SMC Family Goes to Church

Twice each week. Three times if you count choir practice.

Henry plays handbells

I've said it before, and I'll say it again--I love our church. I am very fortunate to have found this place where everyone is extravagantly welcome. My boys were baptized and later attended preschool here. It's a joyful place to be and a very happy ending to a long story.

I was born into the Catholic church but did not find a home there. When I was growing up, the children of divorced parents were an anathema to the Church, if not doctrinely, certainly in practice. The Church's exclusion simply added to the separateness I felt growing up. I made the sacrament of First Communion but not Confirmation. I desperately wanted to go to Catholic school when I was in sixth grade but my mother said the priest told her no. Decades later, I'm not sure I believe her but I did then and felt awful. As an adult in my twenties, I inquired about being confirmed and was told I'd have to find a sponsor. I knew no one in town, much less the parish. So you see, "church" was a place other people belonged and I didn't.

Hurtful as these experiences were, in the long view I realize that they made me who I am today. Given no other other option, I embarked on independent study. Yes, it involved decades of church-hopping but it also involved a lot of reading and discernment. For many years, more than I care to admit, I was Goldilocks trying on one denomination after another. Too strict, too universal. Too exclusive, too existential. I'd read Statements of Belief, then attend services for several months. Most of the time, no one--not a soul noticed me. And that was okay especially if the church didn't feel like a good fit but sometimes it made me wonder why I even bothered worshiping in public. Anne Lamott kept me company on my journey and other authors helped as well.

And now we've come full circle. My sons attend a Catholic elementary school. I pay twice as much as the parishoners and both boys are excluded from some rituals. But when Sunday rolls around, they are included in all that is our small United Church of Christ community. This past weekend, as I joined the communion procession, I felt Henry's hands on my back allowing me to guide him up to the altar. I've rarely felt so complete as I did in that moment.

April 26, 2015

Sentimental Sunday

2009

2015

April 21, 2015

An Early Earth Day Outing (Say that 5x Fast!)

We packed our comfy shoes, camera and bird guide as we headed outdoors this weekend. We were rewarded with beautiful weather and a barn swallow sighting. Not just this nest that Henry found, but an actual barn swallow--which to my embarrassment, I identified as a bluebird at first. Apparently I'm not the quick study I thought I was when it comes to this wildlife stuff.

Once I handed over the bird watching guide, there was no getting it back from Henry. He took off to study it in peace while his brother ran around pretending to play laser tag with a new friend.

There were lots of volunteers on hand from the conservation district. Near the barn, live music was provided for those parents whose children allowed them to sit down. I could barely hear it from where we were roaming but it seemed to draw a crowd.

Liam's favorite part of the day was making his own reusable bag from a t-shirt. A wonderful volunteer helped him. A similar tutorial can be found on here on leethal.net The only difference is that instead of gathering the bottom in two sections, we made six cuts equally spaced along the hem (three in the front and three in the back). Then we gathered a front section with a back section three times. Try it! All you need is an old shirt, scissors and a safety pin. Did you know that the average family acquires 500 plastic bags each year?

That looks something like this (in case you were wondering)

For the record, I haven't accepted a plastic bag from a store since I took this photo three days ago. Happy Earth Day!

April 13, 2015

Searching for spring (we may have found it, not quite sure)

Okay, so the trees didn't have leaves and the grass wasn't green but it was wonderful to be outside watching for signs of barn swallows. They are late this year because it was such a cold March. That's okay, I loved having the boys outside in a wide, open space last weekend. Next Saturday is a big Earth Day celebration and although we have two other things on the calendar, I think we'll make the trek to the nature center in the afternoon.

We've yet to take a long bike ride because the daytime temperatures have been so fickle. One day it's in the low 40's and the next it's 65. The trouble is, we never have enough free time on the days it's in the sixties. Instead I'll get serious and clear our calendar for a bike ride the next day. Then the temperatures plummet. We end up stuck inside with nothing to do because I cancelled everything.

I sure wish I could find an extended forecast source that was accurate. The general trend is for warmer weather though, right? So soon we will be on the bike trail. (It may be time to attach the new bike carrier to my car--I'm excited and nervous at the same time!)

Today after school, I took the boys for ice cream. You can see how much three days and a good rain did to bring out the color in the grass. Liam went back to the car for his jacket but Henry and I were fine in the sun. I even managed to beat the temptation to join them in a fattening treat. I've decided to save my calories and fat grams for an emergency. I will admit that I was half-hoping Liam wouldn't like his root beer float. He wanted to try one for the first time but only if I agreed to "drink it and buy him something else" if he didn't care for it. It really seemed like a win-win situation. Liam would take a risk and I might get dessert. Well, he enjoyed every last drop of that float. I know 'cause I watched him drink the entire thing just to be sure.

Speaking of spring rains, last Thursday just past midnight, I was awakened by the tornado siren. I spent about ten seconds trying to ascertain if I was really hearing it. I was convinced enough to get out of my warm bed and race to get Henry. (Liam was co-sleeping. Again. That's another post. Believe me, that's another post.) Anyway, where was I? Oh, I raced and shouted for Henry, scaring him quite nicely. He followed my directions and watched as I carried his sleeping brother to the safest part of our house. Then all was completely quiet. I checked my phone--no alerts. Five minutes later, I ventured out to the living room to check the television. No warnings in effect. Nothing at all in the area. After ten minutes and more "radio" silence, I let everyone go back to bed. Of course by now I had two frightened boys (it was thundering) so they slept in my queen size bed. They slept. I didn't.

The next day everyone at work laughed at my story--waking from a dream and "hearing things", disturbing soundly sleeping children.... But what's a mother to do except follow her instincts? And then, the next day-- redemption: A coworker has a friend at the local police station. She said the siren did go off, in error, at exactly the time I reported hearing it. So, hah! I feel much better on all accounts. No tornado but if there was one, I would have done my best to protect my family. You know, in a sleepy, confused middle of the night kind of way.