Godparent

We don't attend church. I'm a recovering Catholic and Käri is Lutheran. We both attended services throughout our childhoods and fulfilled the usual church commitments. I even attended seven years of Catholic school (I like to blame all those years of wearing a uniform everyday, for the reason I have no fashion and can wear the same thing day after day- but I digress). As a couple, we have sought out religion on several occasions, feeling the void of spiritual type guidance, but nothing has ever stuck. We have been invited many times to varying churches. Usually like this " You should come, I have seen other gay couples there" or "Our church is open to everybody" or "Our congregation is very progressive". And while I don't doubt these statements, my problem is not with the individual congregations, but with the doctrine associated with each church and really organized religion as a whole. I think they are all really just a form of a cult. My favorite invitation is "I know our religion doesn't condone your lifestyle, but our pastor/priest/minister is okay with it". Just makes me want to run right over and join up!

Authority has always been an issue for me and perhaps that is where my rebellion towards church stems... I just can't stomach the idea of given a list of rules to live by. Mostly because I think that if I join, I should follow those rules. And from what I see, and from my experience, there are plenty of hypocrites calling themselves "good [insert religion of choice here] who don't follow the rules. It just irks me and is not something I want to belong to.

Which brings me to- A couple of nights ago we were asked to be Godparents. Now, in my experience, this means you agree to ensure that some religious instruction happens for the child and that if the child is orphaned- it's yours. It's kind of an antiquated definition, I know. It seems that the definition has evolved into a 'your a special person in the child's life and you get to attend all the special occasions that come up' kind of thing. But, it did make me think.

This is my second opportunity to be a godparent. The first time I was asked, I was 15. (Which makes my first god child 25! Yikes!) I remember it well. It was Easter and the extended family was gathered together for brunch. At the beginning of the meal, my Aunt stood up and announced her pregnancy. This was to be her sixth child. I was thrilled! A new little cousin- there were already 15 of us on my mom's side of the family. I clapped and let out a congratulations, as I looked around the table at my parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles who were all experiencing a moment of stunned silence. I was confused at the reaction and while I was not a naive teenager, I was a teenager, and unaware of all the nuances of the announcement. In the following days and years I discovered that my Uncle was unemployed at the time and they were struggling to pay the bills. The marriage was also rocky and apparently my aunt's announcement was a bit of expressed spite towards my uncle, as they had been arguing all day.

I remember talking to my mom about the family reaction- getting it, but also feeling sorry for the parents and baby. It was new life. Something to be celebrated, regardless of the circumstances. I had a part time job and earned a bit of cash and wanted to buy the baby something. We shopped at the local baby shop and I purchased an outfit littered with stars and moons. The next time I saw my aunt I presented the gift, and while I don't remember her exact reaction, I do remember she was startled. Now, I assume she was surprised to be receiving a present for her sixth child. (In the same way that we were surprised to get a meal after we added number seven and eight last February). In any case, I think it was this action, coupled with being so excited for the new baby, which led my aunt to ask me to be the godmother for my cousin. We had, and really still have, a special sort of connection. We rarely see each other or talk- but when we do, I can still feel it.

But now, I am a grown up, and not just an excited teen. I have never lost that baby thing. I still am thrilled to hear of a new life. I'm not sure when I will reach a saturation point when it comes to babies. If I hear a newborn in the grocery store, I will seek it out. I'll hold any baby if they'll let me. And this baby, that we have been asked to be the godparents of, is the reason we have eight kids, instead of six. The short story is her arrival was the impetus to us deciding to continue to do foster care. So, I already feel a special connection with this one.

Mom approached us hesitantly and literally stuttered out the request. She was worried about the whole church part, reluctant to force her religion onto us. Sensitive to the fact that we will have to agree to support this baby in her religious life to an entire congregation.

In reality, I am honored and for lack of a better term, touched. And I think it was damn respectful of mom to think about us and our views on religion and church. Of course we will be godparents. And if the day were to come that we were called upon to fulfill the antiquated definition of godparent, I would do that too. Because that's what you do. That's how you follow through with promises. Sometimes it means you put your stuff to the side. And that's really what I was thinking about when I started this post...

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I Want

Today I want

to climb back into bed and pull the covers over

to sleep

to eat ice cream

to cuss out everyone

to throw things

to be sad

to sit still

to read a book

to eat a good meal that some one else cooked

to make love over and over until I pass out and then sleep until noon

to be done

to have more money than I know what to do with

to figure out how to save all these kids I keep hearing about

to connect

to be left alone

to have more time


I think that's about it for now. Just one of those kind of days.

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Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

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Negativie Comment

First one.

Immediately makes me curious about the writer- like do you parent? are you perfect? are you stuck? is this your therapy? wandering around the internet leaving anonymous negative comments? or am I the only lucky one? what do you do for a living? do i know you and this is your way of secretly telling me you think I suck?
and if you actually read the post you realized that I too thought I was being a bit bullyish- that was kinda the point.

I screw up- a lot.

So, Anonymous, if you're reading. Yeah, I know, thanks for the kind thoughts.

I debated about posting the comment, but then remembered why I blog to begin with and equal balance and all that stuff. So there you have it.



I've been trying to get around to posting my first born's birthday blog- it was Tuesday... It will come... I bet the blogging pro's write ahead of time- I just shoot from the hip...hmmm...

Big school party tomorrow- I think I've got some clothes- they still need some altering- and some shoes...

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Clothes, or lack thereof

I've grown rather accustomed to my attire as a stay at home mom.

In the winter, I wear jeans and a t-shirt and in the summer, shorts and a tee shirt. I've branched out a bit and have a few long sleeve T's for winter time use, but for the most part they are all short sleeve. In the last year or so I have even gone from all crew necks- some men's shirts even- to a few v'necks. A few years ago I tried to limit the number of t-shirts I wear with words on them... I wear the same brand of jeans -Lands End- just varying shades of blue and the occasional black pair. I am sure they qualify as mom jeans- but they accommodate my wide ass and are comfortable- so there ya go. Don't fix it if it ain't broke... My shorts are a sorry state- my favorite pair are hand me downs that are a size too large, patched, and fraying. I wore them last summer, but am afraid they need to be retired from public eyes now. The other few are fine. Needless to say, I don't have a lot of clothes.

Oh, I do have a closet full of clothes that I wore when I had a paying job. They are terribly outdated and either too big, or small. I hold on to them in case... um... in case of what, I don't know. I recently gave away a few blouses from the 80's- I think they were originally purchased at The Limited. I don't think that store is even around anymore.- And am slowly working on the rest.

I wear tennis shoes, Crocs, Teva's and Birks, mostly.

A fashion maven, I am not. A candidate for What Not To Wear- Definitely!

Sooooo, when it comes time for dressing up, I am horribly out of date, out of touch, and out of clothes! For the past few years we have attended our school fund raiser dinner and auction, and every year I scramble.

40th birthday in the Bay Area? Nada.
Funeral? Nothing.
Wedding? Zilch.

The auction is less than two weeks away- I ordered a random outfit out of an unknown catalog and am keeping my fingers crossed that
1) it comes on time and
2) it fits

Which leaves- shoes...

I found a couple of pairs at Endless Shoes. (Thanks to Mir). I've saved them so I can consult with Kär.

Maybe I'll have an oufit...until next year.

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Mother of the Month 2x

I have been winning the mother of the month award so often it is starting to get embarrassing. I'm sure the committee could find another candidate. I'll have to chat with the nominating folks.

In February, I won for leaving my six year old , Gus, at home. Oh yeah. It was the usual school morning routine at our house. Everybody dressed, beds made, teeth brushed, breakfast eaten?? Hurry up, lets go, lets go, lets go!! We start loading up the van at 7:30- it takes a bit to get all eight buckled in car seats and ready to roll. Especially, if invariably, one or more forgets their coat or backpack. The goal is to be leaving our driveway by 7:45. As I was getting the last baby in the car, my cell started ringing. Unusual for that time in the morning, but I answered. It was a friend and we chatted all the way into school- a good ten minutes or so. I hung up as we pulled into the preschool drop off spot. Out popped Jack and I walked him in said my goodbyes and sauntered back out to the car where I was greeted with- 'Gus isn't here' I prepared my self to be angry as the kids have been instructed not to unbuckle when they are waiting for me to return, but at the same time get that little funny feeling in the pit of my stomach. 'What do you mean he isn't here, did he unbuckle, is he hiding in the van, he didn't get out, did he?' All queries were met with a shake of the head and then finally a 'No, he was never here'. 'Your kidding, right?' Nope.
They weren't kidding.

A quick phone call to the same friend I had been talking to all the way into school- she had been dropping her toddler off at a preschool near my house. She would head right over. I only know the phone number of one neighbor, who I knew was probably not home... and then immediately called home. The machine picked up as I am racing back to the house, and I start talking to Gus... 'Gus are you there?..., honey it's mama..., pick up the phone babe... Gus? ... Gussie...

He did pick up, and we talked all the way home, a minute or so before I got there, so did my friend. Gus greeted me at the door with the phone in one hand and his comic in the other. It seems that he decided to get said comic to read in the car, forgot we were leaving, and laid on his bed and read his comic book. At some point, he remembered and went out to the driveway- the empty driveway. He found his way back into the house, cuddled up on the couch and read his comic until I called. All in all, not terribly traumatic or scarring, I hope.

Did I mention this was the same child who I had cursed at just days before for following me into the bathroom to watch his older brother puke, so closely, that I tripped over him in my haste to grab a towel from the hall closet, while he was supposed to be making his bed, of course.

Lovely, Eh?

In March, you ask? While it is still early in the month, I received the coveted 'Using Antiquated Methods of Child Rearing Award' for forcing Mia to finish her nasty, soggy, mushy, hour old cereal, before she ate anything else. I did forget to include the speech about starving children in Ethiopia, and for that I almost lost out.

Apparently, it was a close race between myself and Chris .

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