Showing posts with label churchy-stuff. Show all posts
Showing posts with label churchy-stuff. Show all posts

Thursday, October 30

Wow, talk about lazy... and weird.

Not us. We've actually been quite productive. (But there's some swearing in this post, so, you know, brace yourself.) I'm talking about the Sparkle Hands church. I've probably hinted before that it's not going well. Did I write about the seriously boundary-challenged nursery worker (BCNW) physically barring me from EmBaby and telling me to "step out into the hall"? No? That's because I still foam at the mouth just thinking about it.

Basically, Zorak was gone, it had been a rough week, and EmBaby didn't want to go into the nursery. She and I did go into it to use the bathroom there, as that commode is little, and I had Jase, and so, well, that seemed reasonable. On the way out, though, I asked Em if she was sure she didn't want to stay. She said, "No, I just want to stay with you." I told her that was okay, put out my hand for her and we headed for the door.

That's when BCNW physically picked the child up (yes, taking her out of my hand) and told me to step out into the hall. Um... pardon me? Yeah. I reiterated that I was leaving, and taking Em. Badda-boom, badda-bing, I ended up exerting every. ounce. of grace God was willing to spare me not to go all Wild Wild West on this woman and ask her to step outside at High Noon. Give me my child and get out. of. my. way. She did finally put Em down, but she mad-dogged me the entire time.

I wasn't going to say anything, just figured I'd keep Em and Jase with me from now on. Thinking perhaps this is not a good place for us to be, but whatever. UNTIL I found out she'd been talkin' 'bout it around the church. And, of course, her story involved what a helicopter parent I am, and how I'm really-really wrong, and what are they gonna do about me? Ohhhhkay... yeah, not okay with that.

Long story shorter than it could be: the Children's Minister and I have talked, and she's "pretty sure" they could "make an exception to church policy" in allowing a parent to come and get her child "without the church staff insisting otherwise". You know, "just for you". Oh. Policy? You have a policy that mandates church workers interfere with parents like that? Wow. Don't I feel special? But we're going to have to sit down with BCNW to have a mediation, first. (Can you sense the tension? Good.)

So, on to other things, they've been riding these kids hard for two months, now. ("Sharp hands! SHARP HANDS!") Last week, two kids were visiting from out of town and their grandmas brought them to the church on Wednesday night. The kids were told they can't come. (Because they'd be too far behind the rest of the group, and you know it's far more important to have a perfect show than it is to welcome visitors! And since nobody ever shows up anywhere in the Autumn, we wouldn't want to keep a bag of Cheetos and some Bible games on hand. Just in case. Pffttt.)

Zorak mentioned a couple weeks back that he can hear me seething at night, and to be truthful, it's kind of starting to freak him out. What with having to sleep near me, and all. The truth of the matter is, this place has very different goals and priorities than what we are comfortable supporting in a church.

Last night was the last straw.

I sit at the sign-in table, with the Big People. I suspect it's so that they can keep on eye on me and my subversive tendencies, but whatever. The Powers that Be started going through the roster, figuring out who is keeping up the pace and who isn't. There's one little boy who hasn't been there in a month. The Children's Minister says, "Oh, yeah *sad face* I talked to his Mom, and they can't afford the shirt. That's why he hasn't been coming."

*blink* *blink* (I'm waiting for her to say something like, "I told her that's SO not a problem and to bring him back," but that didn't happen.)

Another lady says, "Oh, yeah, they're really struggling. Like, they're living from paycheck to paycheck, and having trouble keeping it together." Minister says, "Awww. That's so rough."

*blink* What the--?? I'm sitting here, watching this bizarre scene from a how-not-to-run-a-church video, waiting for the rest of it... still nothing. I hadn't moved or spoken up because I just couldn't believe that this was happening.

The woman picks up her pen, folks, and starts to CROSS THIS CHILD OFF THE ROSTER! Suddenly, I realize they're going to do it. They're cutting dead weight. They're... what the fuck is WRONG with you people?!?!? You can carry the interest on a million dollar mortgage without batting an eye, but you can't fork up TEN DOLLARS for a child?

I didn't smack the pen out of her hand, but I got very, very close before I could just force my hand down on the paper, instead. (I'm thinkin' an assault charge wouldn't bode well for me at this point in my life.) I'll buy the kid the damned shirt. Put the pen down. NOW.

What do they say? "Oh, but you have five kids!" Um... what, exactly, does that have to do with it? You know what, just... don't talk to me. Don't look at me. Do. Not. Engage. Me.

I can't begin to tell you how absolutely disgusted I am with this place. So, yay for them, they have wireless mikes (what is the abbreviation for microphones? mics?) for all the chosen children, but if you can't hang with the Ralph Lauren crowd, Jesus doesn't love you? I know this isn't in the New Testament anywhere, but I'm pretty sure Jesus has a big ol' bitch-slap waiting for people who behave like this in His name. (He may have one for me, too, for plenty of things I've done in my life. I get that, too.)

"Let the little children come to Me," He said. I know that part's in there.

December 14 is the date of the play. December 15, I'm going to have a Captain Morgan's and Coke to celebrate never having to wade through that place's BS again.

Kiss those babies! Oh, kiss them and love on them with all your heart.
~Dy

Thursday, September 11

"Organized Mom" Survived Auditions

Well, toss me a cold one, we survived. I learned a few things last night:

~ It's fairly safe to say that my "spiritual gifts" do not include theatrical productions, large group child ministry, or dealing with people who are trying to live the Big City Life in a Small Town. Yup. We can just cross all three of those right off my list.

~ James seems to have no clue how to listen in large groups, and yet he also seems to have a bent for performing. (There's a niggling bit in the back of my head that says this is going to be an interesting combination.)

~ I never noticed that the baby probably could have used a bath and a change of clothes until we were already out in public, standing beneath fluorescent lighting. Spit-up glows in that lighting, did you know that? Oops.

~ If you're hungry enough, McDonald's isn't that bad.

~ Now I understand why they started this all last week. This is a Big Production. I'm not sure how they'll pull it together by Christmas. However, I'm sure if they fail it won't be from lack of effort or vision.

~ And, finally, I think I'm going to have the children start journaling. This way, I can remind them to write in their journals, "another example of how much Mom loves me and does things Just For Me". They can write that part in red, so that, in the adolescent years to come, if they're ever feeling neglected or unpampered, I can easily direct them to their journals for hard evidence to the contrary.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Friday, September 5

My Head Is Like This Right Now

There's some really good stuff in there, but I have no clue how to get at it.

Day six of this plague. The children are fine. Zorak is much improved. I. Am. Dying. I talked to the children's director at church today. She said everyone at church has had it, too. She also said when it hits your chest, you're almost through. If that's true, then we should all be well, or dead, by Sunday. Either way, we all look forward to some resolution, here.

She'd called because she wanted to let me know the church's Christmas play preparations began last night. So... this is what life is like for non-procrastinators? While I'm at the market, mocking the stores for putting out Halloween candy, other (more organized) people are planning for Christmas. Wow. I... I don't think I'll ever be one of those people. However, the three boys have indicated that they'd like to be involved in the production. John wants more information before making a decision one way or the other. (His main concern was that this will not extend into baseball practice, "right?" Right.) James heard there is a Narrator part, and he's set his sights on that. Smidge just overheard his brothers and wants to be One of Them. So. There ya go. Come Sunday, I will be playing the part of an Organized Mom, gathering information and penciling into my calendar the schedule for the auditions on Wednesday. Then I plan to go to the store and spend half an hour wandering around wondering why none of the summer stuff is on sale yet. (Ha. Yet. They got rid of all of it last weekend, I know. *sigh* I know.)

Smidge turns five this month. He has given me a beautiful lesson on Perspective this year. He has instituted a new ritual, in honor of this merry event. Each morning, he slips into my room while I sleep, gets right. in. my. face. and then says, in a restrained whisper (which is pretty creepy when that's the sound that wakes you from a deep slumber), "Six more days." OK, something that cryptic, said in a snakey-sounding whisper at six in the morning... that'll really mess up your early AM groove, you know that? I'm sure he's convinced that I am not looking forward to his birthday. He's wrong. I am. For, after his birthday, we can go back to our regularly scheduled six AM wake-up calls, which consist of three or more children standing at the foot of my bed, yelling, "Mom! Can we have some food?" It's all about perspective. That which was once irritating will now be appreciated for its non-shudder-inducing qualities. Good Morning!!

Been following the news, but evidently not the calendar (in spite of my daily warnings), as tonight I asked Zorak what time MadTV would be on. He looked at me with such gentle pity before he answered. I don't know if the pity was because I had no idea what day it was, or because he just didn't want to have to tell me that MadTV wouldn't be on for another 48 hours yet. Either way, I realized I'm still not functioning on all eight cylinders. So I leave you with the promise of what is to come (rather than the haze of what is at the moment...)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Monday, June 30

Another Day of Moving Forward

When I look out the kitchen windows now, there are handrails peeking above the sills. They make me smile. Zorak got his quotes for deck boards this weekend, too. It's coming together!

The boys found blackberries down by the barn! They're overjoyed. Yep, it's the blackberries we spent three days ripping out last spring. You know, so we could plant... blackberries. (I've never claimed we were farmers, here, folks! As a matter of fact, I do believe I've been completely upfront about the fact that I do not come from hearty farmer stock.) In my defense, we were going to put in thornless berries, and these have thorns. The boys, however, simply do not care. Zorak and I sat on the porch (under the ceiling fan), watching the boys scamper toward the barn, and we both said, "This is why we bought this place!" Good, good stuff.

We went to church today. Made it to the 8:15 service ON TIME. And everybody was dressed. And clean. No, I have no idea how this happened. This is an LCMS church, so it's close to the PCA. Close enough, at this point. They have three services from which to choose, so we opted for the traditional service. Even going the trad-route, it's just a wee bit slick and shiny, but the children all felt at home immediately. Smidge, our church-barometer, asked, as we walked to the car afterword, "Can we make this the church we go to every Sunday?" He has never said that about any church other than the one we have membership at. Zorak and I were both bowled over. Normally, he asks when we can go back to "our church". Sometimes he cries. So, this enthusiasm was huge. Zorak had no major qualms with it, other than the slickness of the presentation. (It's not like the BigShinyChurch we visited last year. This is more the way you can spot someone from Dallas vs. any other town in Texas. There's a slick veneer, a polish to their mannerisms and carriage that's very definitive. But, um, unless you know about the Dallas Effect, this makes no sense at all.) So, in all, it was good.

And now, we begin again with a new week. My Rainbow order is IN Huntsville! *squeal like a leetle guuurl* No clue on my Logos order. I received an order confirmation, but when I login and try to check the status, nothing appears. I'll wait the recommended waiting time before I call and pester them about it. This is a busy time of year for curriculum vendors. Remind me this week to post John and Smidge's year plans, too. (That way I can find them in November, when I can't remember what we were going to do next!)

Kiss those babies!
~Dy