Saturday, November 26, 2011

The language of 3

Addison is coming up with such wonderfully creative little expressions. My continuing favorite: "I wuv you all de much Mommy."
And my newest favorite when asked who her best friend is: "Swoan (Sloan) is the best friend for me. She wuvs me all de much."

Tonight I sat through a 5 minute long oration about the Big Bad Wolf and and how he needed to go to time out and get spankings because he was not being nice. I couldn't agree more.

Lastly, it's Christmas decorating time again. So very soon it seems. While trying to explain to Addison that we had to move all her toys in the Living Room so that we could fit the tree in, I stood where the tree would be going and held out my arms and rotated in a circle. "See baby, the tree will go riiiiiiigggghht here."
Her skeptical response was so matter of fact that I cracked up right then and there.
"I don't think so Mommy."

Along with the language, however, has come a torrent of tantrums and excessive disobedience. We had our worst day every last Wednesday when I tried to take Addison to get her pictures taken. She wouldn't smile, wouldn't sit, threw all the stuffed animals on the floor. She started crying and then her pretty red satin dress was covered in tear drop spots. I looked around the room, seeing all the other well-behaved children and felt the most inept I've ever felt as a parent. I took her outside to cool off, but she just pitched an even bigger fit on the sidewalk. Finally, before I beat my child in public, I loaded her up and drove straight home. I was sooo upset that she was so beautifully made up and I got no picture whatsoever. I lost it and was once again thankful that I have a husband to help me raise my child as he took over and sent her to bed while I had a breakdown on the front porch swing. I may never get a picture of her at 3 years old at this rate. We'll just have to wait and see.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Thoughts on becoming a Methodist

Being born and raised Southern Baptist, I have never had to deal with the pomp and circumstance other religions display. In a Baptist church, the preacher would get fired up to the point of spitting on the front row. That is if anyone ever sat on the front row. They had to leave that one open in case the preacher was inspired to jump up in it while preaching.  In a Baptist church we always sang hymns, but only the first and last verses. I guess the middle ones just weren't that important. You could only distinguish our clergy by the guy in the full suit on Sundays. Most every other man would barely wear a tie much less a jacket. "Just as I am" was always the call to the altar and would happen at the end of the service after the message. It was your last chance to repent before walking out the door. We were really good at incorporating a covered dish supper into almost any event and the highlight of Easter Sunday was the yummy breakfast held immediately after the sunrise service. The only ceremonious events took place every blue moon when The Lord's Supper was held or someone was Baptized. Everything else was pretty much, off the cuff.
I have entered a  different world lately attending my new church, Trinity On-the-Hill Methodist. There are robes. You will always know who's in charge by their robe. There are certain songs that we sing after the offering and at the end of the service. The same little five line tune each time. We say the "Apostle's Creed".  I haven't researched it yet, and for the most part, I totally love what it says but I am confused a little about the part that says, "I believe in the holy catholic church." However, the most noticeable thing to me is the fact that they sing every single word in a hymn....every verse...every chorus. For a former Baptist, this is a bit cumbersome since we're used to just skipping to the end and being done with it.
Here's the interesting thing I've found: I like the formalities. I like the reading of the scripture in unison. I like the fact that the pastor always ends each service with a phrase that starts something like, "May peace be with you..." as he makes a symbol of a cross on his body. I like that at any given Sunday, there is a baby being baptized and in the middle of the service, there is a specified time to pray and come to the altar. I love that Communion is with real bread and that we are each given the sacrament personally in front of the church instead of collectively with some crackers and juice in our pew.
I know there's a new movement about worshiping as you are and some churches that never sing a hymn. For new converts, that may be the hook that gets the fish. But for this seasoned Christian, I have found new comfort in old rituals. I have found a renewal of my spirit through 100 year-old hymns. I can hear God speaking through a collective reading by the congregation. And best of all, the pews never need cleaning from a preacher's dirty shoes.
In a Christian age that finds believers trying to make themselves more like to the world in order to attract the world - I have found peace in a bit of pomp and circumstance, in the midst of formalities and all wrapped up in robes.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

An Indian Princess

By the end of the night, my girl was a pro. She would run up to the house and look back for my approval. "Go ahead, ring the doorbell..but just one time," I'd say. So she'd stand on her tippy toes and ring the or eight times. Very nice people would answer the door. She'd stand silent holding her pumpkin bucket. They would ooh and ahh over her costume and tell her how pretty she was while placing a piece or two in her pail. She turned to walk away, but turned back to say, "Thank you." That's my girl. Then she'd run back across the yard shouting, "I got candy! He gave me some candy!"
I tried to get her to say, 'Trick or Treat'.
I'd say, "When they answer the doorbell, you're supposed to say trick or treat. OK?" She'd answer ok but still just stood there when the doors opened. However, when she'd get back to the middle of the street, she'd yell to the top of her lungs....TRICK OR TREEEAAAAT.....for blocks. I guess it was a blanket greeting that she just got out of the way early. I did have to stop her from just entering some people's homes. Not sure why she thought she was supposed to go inside when they opened the door. She even blew a kiss or two in appreciation for their generous sugary donation. In short, she had an amazing night.
Here's a preview, but for more photos, go here.