Alive and Swell

Our family of four is adventuring through Advent. There is a certain chaos to the Christmas season, especially when you have one rebellious elf (oldest child, 2, rebelling her way to 3 )and gingerbread daughter (youngest, 9 months, jolly). This past December weekend was a gauntlet of tidings and joy, tired parents and jibber jabber. Hop on the sleigh, and maintain your sanity.

Mastering Mass
No matter the time or the church, mass with young children becomes a public showcase of parental skills. You have to react to impulsive, unpredictable decisions. Last weekend, my two-year-old treated a baptism like a press conference. From her reporting seat, she exclaimed, "What is he doing!?!", referring to the priest and the holy sacrament. The priest turned and answered my daughter, via microphone, respecting her curiosity and the velocity of her voice.

This weekend we attended the 4 o'clock mass at Our Mother of Sorrows. We brought my mother as a reinforcement. We sat in one row, but occupied space in the row behind us and in front of us with an arsenal of clothing, gear, toys, bags, and a car seat. My oldest daughter brought sunglasses into God's house, anticipating a miracle of radiance no one else could envision. She identifies the kneelers as balance beams. They are not for prayer. They are for performance.

After communion, I held on to my gingerbread daughter, who has not learned how to walk, but enjoyed climbing the stone wall and smiling at those who walked by.  She looked toward the rafters, silently communicating that she was interested in making it to the top. Meanwhile, the elf was trying to squeeze her powerful body in between my arched back and the pew. She offered no reason why nor do I believe she had a true purpose.

When mass ended, we found the nearest potty. I was face-to-face with the eldest, sitting on her throne. She asked, "What do you want to talk about?"  No baptism or bathroom is without a question.

Living the Nativity
The Conemaugh Township Ministries hosted a Live Nativity at Greenhouse Park on Saturday. Directly after that potty chat, I led the brigade to Bethlehem. As young parents, ambition carries you to a Live Nativity. Then, you carry your offspring and question your ambition. It is a beautifully, complex game of cat and mouse.

Bringing the Nativity to life takes a lot of work and dedication. This is immediately visible upon entering the Bethlehem they have created. I had no idea what we were getting ourselves into. When I realized this ancient town had a tour guide, red flags shot out of my skull. Our party needed an accelerated tour. It was cold and our children were confused by what was going on.

When a six-year-old identified himself as a shepherd, our two-year-old had a mind blow. She kept calling out to him, "Shepherd." "Shepherd." "SHEPHERD!" "Excuse me, SHEPHERD!" This kid was an actor. He didn't break character and was not at all flustered by her hysteria. When we got to Baby Jesus, her mind went from The Bible to Old MacDonald. She saw the animals and it was immediately, E-I-E-I-O. When she broke out in song, the crowd chuckled. And on his farm, there was a manger.

At this point, my shoulders could not take much more; my elf was on my shelf for all of Bethlehem. Thank you, Conemaugh Township Ministries. We were in. We were out. It was great.

Dancing Dinner
The Crow's Nest is less than a mile from Greenhouse Park, and couldn't you imagine Bethlehem having a restaurant called The Crow's Nest? 

I made a reservation before noon on Saturday. I did not request to be seated directly beside a 2-year-old's birthday party, but the Lord works in mysterious ways.

When in Bethlehem. Or Rome. Or Johnstown. Just feed us.

Our girls were well behaved and "sitting still" is a silly expectation I no longer even think about. A parent must learn how to enjoy a meal. It will never be the same enjoyment. Upon creating life, I had to recreate my vision of "enjoy your meal". When a waiter or waitress says that to me, I wonder if they understand the complexity of those three words.

After feeding my face and protecting my flock, my two-year-old was awarded a birthday party balloon. I'm not exactly sure how this occurred, but the balloon made it into the car. And at one point, while driving, it hit my head. And shortly after, my window rolled down, and the balloon went up, up, up into the sky, headed toward the moon. I'm not exactly sure how.

But I did it.


Counting Sheep
After church, after Bethlehem, after dinner, and after the balloon to the moon, we came home. Days start and end, come and go. Our girls are growing. My wife and I are trying. It is a team effort.

I love my team. I love my town. Be a shepherd to something good.