Well, this has turned into quite the Friday night at our
house. First time we are hosting sleepover for an additional two kids but it's really fun! Holy shmoly.
And Ben’s on call. I’m not going
to lie, I was a little…a lot… nervous about all this. The boys are always the hardest. Momma’s boys.
I’m quite certain Colton
will never move out. Though, Gabriela
Catalina is also going to give us a run for our money. She cried the other day and said she didn’t
want to leave me for college and could she just live with me? My heart swelled and I told her of course…. But…
really??? She’ll change her mind. Just like her wanting me to be on her
honeymoon, which is all sorts of weird in so many ways.
So I have them all in there, jumping on their beds- which I don’t
allow and they know it and I’m getting annoyed. I silence them with a rowdy rendition of “Strawberry
Shortcake”- man that redhead knows how to party. After our songs I say, “Shoot! Sorry guys- we forgot to pray. Colton,
you want to start?” And Sophie asks, “What’s
praying?” Okay… so… here’s the
thing. I am a HUGE believer in that
parents should be the ones to guide their kids spiritually. I’d be really pissed if my kid went to another
kid’s house and the parent’s started indoctrinating my kid in their religion- I
certainly don’t want to do that in my home. I don't care if my kid asks questions and they answer it, but I certainly don't want my kid being converted at someone's house. I believe the same for me in my home. My home is a place of love, peace and equality
where we accept people for who they are and what they believe (barring mass
murderings of course). I don’t have
people over to convert them and I’m not interested in converting. I believe that you get people to cross over
from the dark side (that part is meant to be funny… not real) by living your
life the way you think God wants you to live it. I’m not perfect and I don’t pretend to
be. I make mistakes and a
looooooooooooot of them. But I try. And I think that is the point. And a part of trying is being respectful of
my friends and their beliefs and how they want to raise their children.
So, I hesitate. Because I don't want to cross any lines.
I start by saying, and every sentence I say begins with, “Well,
“I” believe” and continue to say that I believe in God and Jesus to kind of
explain. I’m pretty proud of myself,
explaining what praying is and what we believe while at the same time not
pushing my beliefs on a four year old, which I think is completely and utterly
inappropriate.
Let’s be honest, I don’t like talking about it. I don’t like praying out loud. Never have.
Never will. The ONLY reason I do
it with my kids is because I know I am supposed to. But I hate it.
For me, praying is only my business and no one else’s. But that’s me.
I don’t judge you for wanting to pray in groups, don’t judge me for
preferring to swim in bloody water with sharks over praying out loud while
another person can either hear me or knows I’m doing it. And I’m good with it. So back off.
And don’t talk to me about it. Seriously.
Anyway, I’m sweating explaining what praying is when Sophie
busts out with- “Oh yea! My great
grandma is in heaven! I can pray and
talk about her!” And then, my little one
says, “Mommy? Are you going to die soon?
I don’t want you to die before me.” And what was a semi pleasant conversation
(with the exception of the years that got taken off my life by discussing
prayer), has turned into this depressing therapy session. Um… THIS IS A SLEEPOVER!!! Talk about Pinkalicious! Or pancakes!
Not about me dying!! Has my
daughter even MET me before? Like its
anywhere on my list to talk about dying or prayer. Jeez louise.
This is quite the heavy stuff for a Friday night.
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