First American-Born Pope?

If the ladies at daily Mass were responsible for choosing the next pope, I think they’d vote Jacob into the office now—even though Benedict XVI is still serving, and even though Jacob can barely talk. Jacob is like the homecoming king of daily Mass: all the ladies know his name and want to be around him. He is pretty cute, so I can’t blame them. The ladies will often tell me how sweet it is to hear his voice during Mass, and as long as that voice wasn’t screaming that day, I believe them and take their kindness to heart.

The truth is Jacob has been easier and more fun to have at Mass in the past few weeks. I attribute a good deal of that to the fact that I’ve started to bring a snack cup for him to keep him entertained. His snacks are admittedly a bit crunchy, but with only eight teeth, he’s still pretty quiet.

The other part of the equation is that I’m starting to believe he’s paying attention. Yes, he is barely fourteen months old, but he goes to Mass nearly every day, and rather than letting him roam the church for the entire service, I try my best to draw his attention to the altar and whisper to him what’s going on. If I ever doubted the power of the Eucharist, the quiet and calm that comes over Jacob once the Host has been consecrated has turned all that around. When I point to the altar, he keeps his eyes trained on the priest and is virtually silent, in a relaxed and very happy kind of way. Almost like an angel, you might say.

This is not to toot my own horn and suggest that I never let him walk around church, or I never get frustrated with the physical workout Mass can become. Sometimes Jacob needs to get his legs moving, but he also needs to learn when to sit still and how to obey when I tell him to be somewhere. I can’t help but get frustrated when I see school-age children ignoring what’s going on in front of them at Mass, not kneeling or standing at the proper times, seeming to not listen to the readings at all. Given, I’ve never attempted to participate in Mass while caring for a second-grader, or anything like it. But kids are expected to sit still, eyes forward, and pay attention at school for seven hours a day, five days a week, right? So why not an hour on Sunday morning?

Sometimes I think I’m jumping the gun, trying to teach Jacob things before he’s ready for them. But I’m not pushing him or punishing him if he needs to talk a little more some days or take a stroll around the back of the chapel on other days. On the other hand, if we don’t start teaching him this now, then when?  John and I decided early on that we would do our best to keep our kids near the front of the church so they can see what’s going on, and hopefully be more interested. I’m amazed and grateful for how well it’s worked thus far.

First American-born Pope? Maybe. But in the meantime, a little boy who understands and appreciates the faith his parents are passing on to him is all I ask.

Call Me Mrs. Frazzle

Sometimes mothering a toddler makes me feel like I’m losing my mind.

 

When a day starts off too early (read: no time to blog!), continues with a too-short nap (read: no time to knit, my new hobby), and climaxes with too many pokes at my glasses and pulls at my hair, I wonder when I’ll have two logic thoughts together again.

 

Then I chastise myself for thinking I’d do something for me today, rather than relishing every moment of head-butted “kisses” on the floor. I remind myself that someday, Jacob may not want to give me a random hug or six in the middle of the afternoon. I know that most of what I’d planned for today isn’t really necessary, and time is better spent with my little boy. But then, today turned out so different from yesterday, and then tomorrow will probably turn today on its head. I never know what to expect, and while that’s the challenge, it’s a joy as well.

 

 

Being mama to a toddler means plans always change, your time is rarely, if ever, your own, and it may be four o’clock before you realize you have consumed neither fruit nor vegetable all day.

 

Today I am tired, and a little cranky, and can’t do literary justice to the Montreal Biodome as I’d intended. But today I had the blessing of a day at home with the cutest, giggliest, snuggliest little boy on the planet. And the one definitely outweighs the other.

Lucky Thirteen

Today Jacob is thirteen months old. This last month has been incredibly eventful, mostly because he began walking for real. But somehow that triggered a bunch of other, smaller developments as well. Just enough for a celebratory blog post!

Thirteen Things Jacob Learned to Do This Month/Why I Love Being Jacob’s Mom:

1. When I hold my finger out (like I’m waiting for a bird to perch on it), Jacob grabs hold and we walk around together, holding hands. Sometimes he sits down and starts to play but doesn’t let go, and just plays with one hand.
2. He eats whole pears and apples by himself, down to the core. One day this week, he ate two pears and one apple. Aren’t I supposed to start making comments about how much he eats when he’s thirteen years, not thirteen months?
3. He makes on “ooooh” sound, sometimes on command, and often ends it with an “ay” sound. Maybe he’s trying to say “boy” or “soy”? Either way, it’s adorable.
4. He whistles. Seriously.
5. He uses the sign for “all done” when he’s finished eating. Sometimes he keeps snacking when I start to clean up, which confuses me. Eventually he drops food on the ground and I know he’s done for real.
6. When I ask him to go to the bathroom for this bath, he often walks there by himself. He’ll also take my hand to go to his room for a nap. And he’ll even go to the high chair at mealtime. I think he wants to climb in, but I don’t see that happening any time soon. Or ever!
7. He’s less interested in outlets and some (but not all) of the other things that used to be trouble. I guess that means he used to get bored kind of easily. I also guess this isn’t something he’s learned, but it’s close enough.
8. He’s started to put toys inside one another—like food in the shopping basket and a banana in a bowl.
9. Sometimes he helps me clean up this way. Mommy score!
10. Before we go out, he helps put his sweatshirt on.
11. He played with a friend and not just next to a friend for the first time. The giggles were ridiculous.
12. He still loves peek-a-boo. This isn’t new, but I’m amazed he’s still so excited by it. See #11.
13. Walking means he can come over and hug me whenever he wants. Which is often. If there were any order to this list, this would be number one.

Happy thirteen-month birthday, Jacob!  Here’s to another month of development and discoveries.