Small Things

The first day of catechism

My first grade son started catechism classes yesterday, beginning to prepare for his first communion in two years.  He seemed to have a good time, when he walked in several kids he'd met at vacation bible school this summer called out called out his name, and they all started acting silly together.

All the parents gathered outside for a meeting with the director of religious education at our parish. The children's ministry building is new this year for our parish, it had previously been a preschool, but our church took it over and renovated it so our kids now have space for classes and activities. Sorely needed. Several years ago I volunteered to teach a 5th grade catechism class, and we met in what is now a storage closet.

So behind this new building is a big play area, with shade, and most importantly, fences. While the director addressed all the parents, our couple dozen preschoolers, too young for catechism, played 40 feet away on the playground, close enough to watch but far enough to not interrupt grownup conversation. Surrounded by fences, and supervised by a couple of confirmation students.

The director told us he'll be leading a bible study for parents here in the back yard of the ministry building during all classes, and plans for us all to bring our young ones to play just as they did yesterday. I know he's always led those bible studies before, but I never considered going because they were always crowded into some corner of the church, and I knew my two girls would not be able to sit and color or play quietly indoors like that.

But now! My girls were so happy playing, and I looked around at all the moms, and seriously, I was afraid I might start crying. I am so looking forward to Thursday evenings now. To have all of my kids happily engaged, while I get to be in basically the best Book club ever with other parents struggling with the same lifestyle as mine . . . what a blessing! What a bonus to bringing my kid to catechism!

Last night, I couldn't get Jimmy to tell me anything about what they talked about in his class. I tried, but he said he didn't really want to talk about it. I suspect he was still processing the new classroom, the new teacher, the kids, and the workbook. Maybe he is at a loss as to how to sum up the lesson for the day. (Also, he lost a tooth right at bedtime, and may have been preoccupied with thoughts of the tooth fairy coming.)

But I think he'll be happy to return next Thursday. I know I will be.

Better than Santa Claus

I love, love, love getting a call from my husband in port!

I've been carrying my phone in my pocket like it's a pacemaker battery, terrified of missing his call by seconds. It's happened before, and it's more than a little disappointing. My friend who is about to have a baby once missed a call from her deployed husband by seconds, and her cry of despair made my son freeze on the monkey bars and yell, "Oh no, she's having her baby!"

But I did get his call, and hearing his voice was like balm to my soul. I feel like we talked forever, and yet it went by in the blink of an eye. And we didn't talk about one bill or mortgage or repair, wait, one speeding ticket did come up . , . But mostly, it was just a happy call with plenty to share.

When I was a kid, we used to get a phone call from Santa before Christmas, and occassionally, we'd also get a call from the man in the moon. (Who would thank us for all of the artwork we sent him that we'd run out of room for on the fridge). My dad was always at work when we got those calls, but we would excitedly fill him in when he got home.

Santa's got nothing on my man. Time for me to go to bed now, but I can't stop thinking of Harry Connick Jr.'s "The Man in the Moon is smiling . . . ."

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

I think it's the start of a new era

Last week my oldest child started first grade. He was in half-day kindergarten last year, from 11 to 2, but is finally on a full schoolday schedule. His school starts at 7:45 in the morning.

So this is it, folks. No more do my earliest days begin with preschool drop off at 9, or the occassional 8 AM doctors appointment. This mom-gig may be 24-7, 365, but I at least enjoyed sleeping in most mornings til 8. No more. For the rest of my childraising years, at least 17 years more, I will rise with the sun. Sometimes before it.

I am trying not to focus on how contrary to my nature this is. I have been falling asleep during Conan's monologue, barely able to switch off the tv through my sleepy fog. I am exhausted from my full days, but I think that Conan's move to 11:35 has tricked my mind into feeling like it is later. Last night , I didn't even make it to Conan. Maybe when Leno starts his ten o'clock show, it will cue me to sleep even earlier?

I am amazed how much more I am getting done each day. Both by rising earlier, and thanks to the extended schedule first grade affords. My drop-off and pick-up schedule is much saner than it was last year, when each day I had only an hour or so between trips to my kids' two schools. It is thanks to this block of over six hours (six hours!) uninterupted by obligatory school runs that I am getting some quality time on the computer to finally return to my blog. This day feels positively indulgent.

Now I am wondering where in the country they might still have full-day kinder. Because I've got two more kids yet to turn 5, and once I get used to this staying-in-one-place for 6 hours, it will be so hard to return to the all-day chauffering.