“Hello, my name is Kim. I have two boys, and I’m a mommy blogger.”
It felt like an admission at AA. I instantly regretted telling the other women at the Moms for Jesus meeting that I am a blogger, because they asked me what my blog address is, and it occurred to me that now I can’t make fun of them.
In truth I would not actually make fun of them, because they all seemed like good women. I mean good women. Like when you say to your husband “you are a good man” and you really really mean it and you remember that you married him because he is a good man, and not just because he knocked you up. They were friendly and open they brought snacks! I tried to be myself but the whole time I was afraid that they could smell my godless heathen nature the way dogs and babies can smell fear.
I know you’re dying to find out why I was at Moms for Jesus. It’s not actually called that. It’s something like St. John Eudes Mother’s Club and they meet every Thursday in an effort to create a community for mothers at the parish, and there’s even free babysitting, and, like I said, snacks. I went because yesterday I met with the deacon to begin the process for Brady’s christening. He urged me to start the process to “convalidate” my godless marriage, he invited me to join the parish for a family dinner in October, and he pushed this mother’s group on me. In a complete reversal of my general nature, I have to say I was intrigued.
The mommy group that formed when Kyle was a baby is still alive and kicking, but its original meeting place was closed by the hospital for lack of funding. Luckily my girls and I still have Monday Playdate and other activities that we organize amongst ourselves, but that original place offered a gathering of new moms that I looked forward to attending with Brady. I haven’t done so already because they met on Friday when Kyle is home with me, and smack in the middle of his naptime, which as we learned last Sunday is a time that you just cannot screw with or you are summarily doomed.
We had gone down to Santa Monica for Siena’s 4th birthday party. It started at 11:30 and we got there late, of course, but Kyle was in good spirits the whole time, so we decided to push the envelope and visit our boat. Boat was floating, check. Kyle enjoyed the boat, check. But Kyle didn’t want to leave the boat, and screamed during the entire ride home. He screamed like I have never heard him scream. It was a perfect storm of overtiredness, sugar high, and a 45-minute drive. As the saying goes, good times.
Kyle is in daycare Tuesday through Thursday. On this morning, a Thursday, we had an exterminator come to spray for fleas, the one parting gift left to us by our former pets over a month ago. That’s a long and itchy story but all I will say here is that it took this long for me to resort to calling an exterminator, and even then I had to call around to find one who uses nontoxic ingredients because I’m all about not coating my belongings with poison, even in the name of stopping the flea bites, already.
He came and sprayed this morning which meant I had to be out of the house for a while, so off we went to the I Love Jesus Mommy Madness Meeting. I was worried that I would be grilled about my religious life, but thank goodness nobody asked. Two people there said that I looked familiar, and I am assuming they watch reruns of the Gilmore Girls because I haven’t been to church since Kyle was baptized. I knew that I was entering a Venus flytrap of Catholicism, so I wasn’t surprised when they sprang a book study on us, and I am now the proud new owner of a Religious Book that I have to read for next month.
The jury’s out on this venture. On one hand, I really liked the women and their children and their brownie bites. On the other hand, I am afraid that, despite eight years of Catholic education, I will not be able to keep up with their scripture quoting and their frequent references to their relationships with Jesus. I mean, I barely know the guy. I am not yet at the point where I can kiss and tell.
I can “hear” Nana praying for your soul, just like she prays for Dad (for the past 36 years!).
I’m a heathen also 😉
I can’t even imagine doing that. You’re a brave woman.
Oh, my. This is quite an interesting dilemma indeed. You will make friends with them because you are smart, kind & funny, and they need that in their lives (from what I remember from CCD, Jesus — while fascinating and amazing — wasn’t all that funny. Perhaps this is debatable, but Job would certainly have an opinion on the subject.)
I digress.
Anyway, pretty soon you’ll have some wine with them and before you know it, they’ll get your blog link and then the party’s over for all of us!
I vote for you to start a second blog specifically for the purpose of sharing the link with them. That way the rest of us can still get our HOP fix.
PS – MomHop, I’m not really blasphemous in real life. Really!
Hey commenters! What’s with the preconceived notions about Jesus lovers? Sheesh.
Well, I hate to break it to ya, but if these women are regular churchgoers (and sounds like they are), they’re not expecting the New Face to rap about Jesus. We’re sensitive that way.
Mom Underground,
SEE?! I don’t even know what New Face means!
And really, there’s no disparaging the churchgoers. I am simply different, and not at all looking down. I think the commenters are just scared that I might shy up if my cover is blown.
Kimmy –
Jacks and I go to church every Sunday, and he has to remind me to do dinner prayers. I don’t know any scripture quotes, and I think NEW FACE just meant new person at the meeting. I do find my church comforting in a group hug sort of way. Maybe because they are my neighbors who give wine to trick or treater mommies, those I see out at the bars, at political fundraisers, and in the statehouse; i.e. my “normal” people.
Don’t fear those ladies, even though I don’t take my own advise and WILL NOT attend the “Singles Catholics of Springfield” outings.
Anyway, need to go home, get gussied up and pawn my son off with a babysitter so I can go out and drink beer with a cute boy.
love, suz
Oh. Now I get it. I will wear my New Face with pride and see what happens. Good luck on your date!
Wow. Just as long as it is a church you like. They are not all the same.
But what I really wanted to comment on was this: I didn’t follow the embedded link, but is seems a bit contradictary- to be killing fleas with something nontoxic. So, how does it work, then? I understand the desire but I”m not sure I believe it.
I feel like I should weigh in here, but faith and religiousness is such a personal issue. Each person has to find her own spirituality and how she expresses it. And sometimes that takes YEARS!!!
I may be a lazy churchgoer (it’s an emotional thing), but that doesn’t mean I’m not part of the larger community of faith. Unfortunatley I think the current political situation has polarized people of faith: if you’re not a dyed-in-the wool, foot-stomping churchgoer, you’re a heathen.
And what about only that finite number of people who are going to heaven? What about the rest of us?
And how do we give our children and grandchildren some basis of faith to at least choose or not to choose to be part of a larger community of faith?
Oh dear, I’ve really twisted my tongue this time…but that’s my two cents…
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