"Oh, mommy, that's not going to work with me!"
"When we hold hands, the world gets brighter."
"When we get home I'm going to play dress-up. I'm going to dress up as God."
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Baptisms, Religion, and Faith (oh, my!)
This is supposed to be an entry about Ainslie's baptism and the swirl of feelings and opinions I had/have, but it's really turning into a doozy.
Here's the Reader's Digest version of some background info: i.e., why Ainslie was baptized at 3 years old:
Craig's family is more High Church and of the Infant Baptism persuasion. My family is of the Old Enough To Make a Confession of Faith state of mind. Before we became parents, I knew it was important to Craig and his family to have children baptized as infants, and after all, it wouldn't hurt them, so I said, Fine, as long as he sets it up (knowing full well it would take, well, three years.) Ok, I'm being a little jokey, but what with the moving and all, it's taken this long. And I'm glad. Ainslie was so excited! She kept asking, "How many days 'til my baptism? I just can't wait to be baptized!" We had many conversations with her about what it means to be God's child, and to have Jesus in your heart, and, as well as a three-year old can, I think she understands.
What I have learned, is that baptism, in the ELCA context, is defined differently than in my Disciples of Christ context, and I'm ok with that. I've seen several ELCA confirmation classes make their confirmations and have been moved by the conviction with which those kids speak and act. Everybody's happy, right?
Ugh.
I've always thought that we have different denominations of the Christian faith because God gave us minds with which to think and question. How can we all come to the exact same conclusions about each passage of scripture? How could we all interpret everything the exact same way? We can't! We're human!
Where it gets dangerous, in my opinion, is when one group asserts that they are right, and the rest of us are going to hell. Literally.
Enter my dear old dad.
My parents are happily married, but they have always gone to separtate churches. Before I was born, my mom was visiting church with my dad and grandparents and the preacher told the congregation, in no uncertain terms, that unless you belong to the Church of Christ--NOT the Universal-Capital-C-CHURCH, but this particular uber-conservative instrumental music-less, non-ministerial-alliance participating denomination, you are hellbound. My mom decided that day that no child of hers would ever be a member of that church.
Anyhoo. Brother, Sister and I were well-churched in the more open-minded Disciples of Christ denomination. I married Craig, we found a good fit for the both of us in Lutheran ELCA. We begat Ainslie. Three years later, her baptism approaches. 2 hours before the service, my dad informs me he isn't attending. Fabulous. This'll go over well.
I have relatives arriving, people all over my house, a small girl who needs to be dressed and groomed and now this.
So, we argue doctrine for awhile. He is absolutely convinced that, let's see, all the Methodists, Baptists, Presbyterians, Lutherans, Catholics, Nazarenes, Disciples, UCC'ers, etc, are Doing It Wrong and will be judged thusly.
Arrogance!
I learned a long time ago not to keep arguing, because this idea is so deeply ingrained, there is no room for logic within this otherwise educated man's head or heart. As more relatives arrived, I told him, " You asked whether I'd be upset. Yes, I am upset. It's a family event. All you have to do is show up and sit there for an hour. I am being polite. I can guarantee Craig won't be, and then this is going to turn into a festering *thing* for the next who-knows-how-long. Please come."
Thankfully, Mom made him come.
The sermon was beautiful. Pastor spoke about Jesus getting lambasted for curing the woman on the Sabbath, and then went on to admonish us to not get so caught up in the Rules--the Rituals, the Doctrines, but to get out there and Live It. Do what is right. Help people. Don't worry about what others think or whether you are following the rules of the congregation. Live righteously without worrying whether you appear to be. He reminded us that the Rules of any church are just man-made. Hope Dad was listening.
Anyway, Ainslie did well. We're very proud of her, on many levels. If any mothers of three-year-olds are wondering, there was no hissing when the water touched her. :-) Had to throw that in--there are days when I wonder.
A couple of pictures
Here's the Reader's Digest version of some background info: i.e., why Ainslie was baptized at 3 years old:
Craig's family is more High Church and of the Infant Baptism persuasion. My family is of the Old Enough To Make a Confession of Faith state of mind. Before we became parents, I knew it was important to Craig and his family to have children baptized as infants, and after all, it wouldn't hurt them, so I said, Fine, as long as he sets it up (knowing full well it would take, well, three years.) Ok, I'm being a little jokey, but what with the moving and all, it's taken this long. And I'm glad. Ainslie was so excited! She kept asking, "How many days 'til my baptism? I just can't wait to be baptized!" We had many conversations with her about what it means to be God's child, and to have Jesus in your heart, and, as well as a three-year old can, I think she understands.
What I have learned, is that baptism, in the ELCA context, is defined differently than in my Disciples of Christ context, and I'm ok with that. I've seen several ELCA confirmation classes make their confirmations and have been moved by the conviction with which those kids speak and act. Everybody's happy, right?
Ugh.
I've always thought that we have different denominations of the Christian faith because God gave us minds with which to think and question. How can we all come to the exact same conclusions about each passage of scripture? How could we all interpret everything the exact same way? We can't! We're human!
Where it gets dangerous, in my opinion, is when one group asserts that they are right, and the rest of us are going to hell. Literally.
Enter my dear old dad.
My parents are happily married, but they have always gone to separtate churches. Before I was born, my mom was visiting church with my dad and grandparents and the preacher told the congregation, in no uncertain terms, that unless you belong to the Church of Christ--NOT the Universal-Capital-C-CHURCH, but this particular uber-conservative instrumental music-less, non-ministerial-alliance participating denomination, you are hellbound. My mom decided that day that no child of hers would ever be a member of that church.
Anyhoo. Brother, Sister and I were well-churched in the more open-minded Disciples of Christ denomination. I married Craig, we found a good fit for the both of us in Lutheran ELCA. We begat Ainslie. Three years later, her baptism approaches. 2 hours before the service, my dad informs me he isn't attending. Fabulous. This'll go over well.
I have relatives arriving, people all over my house, a small girl who needs to be dressed and groomed and now this.
So, we argue doctrine for awhile. He is absolutely convinced that, let's see, all the Methodists, Baptists, Presbyterians, Lutherans, Catholics, Nazarenes, Disciples, UCC'ers, etc, are Doing It Wrong and will be judged thusly.
Arrogance!
I learned a long time ago not to keep arguing, because this idea is so deeply ingrained, there is no room for logic within this otherwise educated man's head or heart. As more relatives arrived, I told him, " You asked whether I'd be upset. Yes, I am upset. It's a family event. All you have to do is show up and sit there for an hour. I am being polite. I can guarantee Craig won't be, and then this is going to turn into a festering *thing* for the next who-knows-how-long. Please come."
Thankfully, Mom made him come.
The sermon was beautiful. Pastor spoke about Jesus getting lambasted for curing the woman on the Sabbath, and then went on to admonish us to not get so caught up in the Rules--the Rituals, the Doctrines, but to get out there and Live It. Do what is right. Help people. Don't worry about what others think or whether you are following the rules of the congregation. Live righteously without worrying whether you appear to be. He reminded us that the Rules of any church are just man-made. Hope Dad was listening.
Anyway, Ainslie did well. We're very proud of her, on many levels. If any mothers of three-year-olds are wondering, there was no hissing when the water touched her. :-) Had to throw that in--there are days when I wonder.
A couple of pictures
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Shaping Up To Be An Interesting Weekend
We have a houseful of family coming this weekend for Ainslie's baptism.
Yesterday, my vacuum exploded.
Today, the dishwasher stopped working.
Yesterday, my vacuum exploded.
Today, the dishwasher stopped working.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Single Mother Ballerina
The new pretend game is Ballet Class, where 'grown-up' Ainslie is the Star Ballerina of the class. She takes Baby Carla with her in Baby Carla's car seat. It's an elaborate set-up. First, she has to put on a leotard and tights, then I have to put her hair in a bun. Then, Baby Carla has to get dressed (in the purple dress if her mommy is wearing the purple tutu; in the pink jammies if Mommy is wearing the pink leo) and brought to the 'studio.'
Next, I have to put on Ballerina Music and then watch. But. I. Can. Not. Set. Foot. In. The. Dining Ro--Studio.
She spins, leaps, twirls--she acts out stories (we had a discussion that Ballet tells stories through dancing, so we have all kinds of Ballets--like the one about the good football player and the mean football player), she does Reverance at the end of class.
I asked her how she could have a Baby already, when she is only three. I should have known better.
"Mom! I'm pretending I'm four!"
It's worse than I thought. After Ballet Practice, yesterday, Baby Carla was having a wedding. I had to ask--isn't she a little young?
"Mo-oom! Baby Carla is a very special child."
She would know.
I just worry that she will be devastated when we put furniture in the dining room.
Next, I have to put on Ballerina Music and then watch. But. I. Can. Not. Set. Foot. In. The. Dining Ro--Studio.
She spins, leaps, twirls--she acts out stories (we had a discussion that Ballet tells stories through dancing, so we have all kinds of Ballets--like the one about the good football player and the mean football player), she does Reverance at the end of class.
I asked her how she could have a Baby already, when she is only three. I should have known better.
"Mom! I'm pretending I'm four!"
It's worse than I thought. After Ballet Practice, yesterday, Baby Carla was having a wedding. I had to ask--isn't she a little young?
"Mo-oom! Baby Carla is a very special child."
She would know.
I just worry that she will be devastated when we put furniture in the dining room.
Monday, August 13, 2007
Friday, August 10, 2007
What is Wrong With Me?
I ordered a swimsuit from Land's End. Of course it doesn't fit. The bottoms are too big and the top is too small. Story of my life, but I digress. I'm not really into Land's End except for swim (because it lasts forever), winter shoes, and Big Warm Coats. The clothes just aren't my thing, for the most part.
But have you seen the new winter shoes in the catalogue? SO cute. I want the driving mocs in orange and the chalet shoes in every color.
Our finances are tidied up, we don't NEED any clothes, shoes, etc, and yet my heart beats faster and I itch toward the keyboard every time I think of these shoes. I want to buy them for other people as gifts as well. I want to order them RIGHT NOW.
Is there a program for me?
But have you seen the new winter shoes in the catalogue? SO cute. I want the driving mocs in orange and the chalet shoes in every color.
Our finances are tidied up, we don't NEED any clothes, shoes, etc, and yet my heart beats faster and I itch toward the keyboard every time I think of these shoes. I want to buy them for other people as gifts as well. I want to order them RIGHT NOW.
Is there a program for me?
Saturday, August 04, 2007
Just Doing My Job
The PALP/Harry Potter weekend was fabulous, in every sense of the word--the friends, the book, the gossiping, the goofing around.
It got even better last week, when Craig told me this story:
Ainslie doesn't usually freak out when I have to go out of town for work, etc., but she was overtired and started crying that she wanted her Mommy.
Craig: Mommy is with her friends, she'll be back in 2 days.
Ainslie: 2 days??!!
Craig: Yes, 2 days, and then she'll be home.
Ainslie (starting to wail again): But who's going to take care of us??????
It got even better last week, when Craig told me this story:
Ainslie doesn't usually freak out when I have to go out of town for work, etc., but she was overtired and started crying that she wanted her Mommy.
Craig: Mommy is with her friends, she'll be back in 2 days.
Ainslie: 2 days??!!
Craig: Yes, 2 days, and then she'll be home.
Ainslie (starting to wail again): But who's going to take care of us??????
My heart grew two sizes that day
Thursday, my baby took two large steps toward growing up--two steps that are wonderful and definitely in her best interest, but still---so large.
First, she got her Hogwa--preschool--letter in the mail. From her teacher, addressed to her, with her first-ever school supply list in it. She had to open it, then she had to read it (according to her it was about learning the planets and stars, since there were stars around the border of the paper.) We went down to the office and made a final selection of a personalized backpack to order.
Sigh.
Later that afternoon, we went to the waterpark, where, after 2/3 of a summer of loving the water but not wanting to put her face in, she swam. She's no Summer Sanders yet, but she put her whole body face down in the water, flailed her arms and kicked, and came up for air, repeatedly. She loved it. She is so proud of herself.
We have three weeks left of going to the waterpark, playing all day, and lolling around in summer splendor.
First, she got her Hogwa--preschool--letter in the mail. From her teacher, addressed to her, with her first-ever school supply list in it. She had to open it, then she had to read it (according to her it was about learning the planets and stars, since there were stars around the border of the paper.) We went down to the office and made a final selection of a personalized backpack to order.
Sigh.
Later that afternoon, we went to the waterpark, where, after 2/3 of a summer of loving the water but not wanting to put her face in, she swam. She's no Summer Sanders yet, but she put her whole body face down in the water, flailed her arms and kicked, and came up for air, repeatedly. She loved it. She is so proud of herself.
We have three weeks left of going to the waterpark, playing all day, and lolling around in summer splendor.
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