Givin' it up: for Lent

Last week we marked the beginning of Lent (literally) by attending an Ash Wednesday service.  Miss Rosie wiggled and fussed while RT flopped on the floor of the narthex. I attempted to focus on the priest's words while sweating profusely after administering a timeout near a potted plant RT for said flopping.

Ahhh, Church.  Anyone with small children knows how unholy it can make you feel.  Trying to get the kids out the door on time, coaxing them to behave "properly" during the service, and making game-time decisions about how much noise from your 7 month old is too much noise, even though she IS a baptized member of the congregation are all part of the worshipping process.

Mercifully, this wasn't a Mass, so it was considerably shorter for the kids.  I'd explained to RT about the ashes - and he understood where they came from.  (Thank you NBC5 Chicago for showing the ceremony of burning the palms at the cathedral on afternoon news!)  I thought for sure that he would want to participate in the wearing of ashes this year; he showed all the signs of readiness: asking questions, understanding that the ashes don't hurt your forehead...

So we get in line to receive our ashes, and RT starts the wet noodle trick - also known as "going boneless."  Holding Miss Rosie securely on my right hip, I attempt to guide him into the ashes line, and his arms slips from my (firm but gentle!) grasp, and he slides to the floor.  I start sweating again.  With an attempt at saintly patience, I redouble my efforts ,and we make it to the front of the line, just in time for RT to clamp his chubby hands over his forehead.  Ashes denied!

The woman dispensing the ashes also tries to coax him to receive them.  At this point I don't care whether or not he wears them, I just want to go hide in my car.  To show him that the ashes don't hurt, she anoints Rosie with them (yikes! she's only 7 months!), and then sneaks her hand near his hairline and slips him the goods.  He immediately starts rubbing his head saying (loudly), "But I don't want these ashes! They are yucky!"

By now I have soaked through my button down, and my fleece jacket is starting to feel damp.  We make it to the car, RT rubbing his forehead the entire way.  Looking around me, I am relieved to note that I am not the only parent who struggled in her attempt at sainthood today.  All that sweat starts to cool me off, and I start feeling like I can speak kindly again.

On the way home, I explain how people give things up for Lent - things that they enjoy.  They don't eat certain favorite foods or do a favorite activity, from now until Easter.  I told him that I'm giving up ice cream this year and Daddy's giving up beer. (BEER!!)  RT annouces, "Mom, I would like to give up computer games for Lent."

WHOA, hold the presses.  COMPUTER GAMES?!

Maybe my boy will become a saint someday.

One can only hope.  Until then, I think I'll be washing some more sweaty laundry.