Children & Church

On Wednesday, October 17, 2007, the youngest was baptized in a BAPTIST church. WOW, now that was a hard one to swallow for yours truly. He had asked me several weeks prior to "it" what I thought and if I would allow him to literally, as I found out on Wednesday, take the plunge. I didn't tell him what I actually thought, all organized religion is corrupt at some level, but that I was proud of him for making a decision and would support him in every way. If this was what he truly wanted, if he had given it enough time and thought, then who was I to refuse? Who was I to say right from wrong on this issue?

Yes, I am his mother, and believe me I know what power that yields. I do have the ability to refuse such a request. I wanted to refuse it! I wanted to yell from the rafters, no, no, no, please for the love of god(?) no! Why I did not want this to happen, that was the reason for the eventual "If this is what you really believe to be the right choice for you, seeing as I love you and respect your desires, I will attend and support your efforts." The desire for refusal was all Michelle and had absolutely nothing to do with the youngest, and everything to do with me.

The youngest is one of the smartest, intellectually, people I have ever known. In many ways he reminds me a lot of my father (and ol brother of mine), who finds it difficult to have conversation with people simply due to the fact that his mind is running so quickly in so many directions it is an actual effort to slow it down to normal speed. The youngest will never be cool, like his two older siblings. He will never be interested in being cool. His mind does not work in that way.

What he needs, in my humble opinion, is to know that while cool is well, cool, it is not everything.

In this church he has found acceptance and love. He is safe there, I have my spies, and do a bit of investigation of my own. I have tried to instill in them (all three) some principles, or morals, or whatever, they know right from wrong, their Jiminy Crickets are working just fine.

So, Wednesday I called upon ol brother of mine, rather force-ably I might add, and we went to church. Still in my work attire I was way over dressed. I had to work late that night. So, shove ol brother of mine in the car, and bitch the entire drive, just complained about almost everything! Such a tolerant soul ol brother of mine is, neither of us wanted to be there. But, we love the little guy so we went.

What an incredibly, wonderfully, friendly bunch of people greeted us. Neither of us were falling for it! (Insert long rant about the hipocracy of your average church goer.) Alas, I am an actress by trade and found the role not too difficult to sustain the hour or two while in attendance. I have, once again, put my skills to good use for good reason, constantly reminding myself that this evening was NOT about me, it was about loving someone.

And the result:


Gosh, there is a hot tub in the church, only not so hot. This really surprised me, growing up the only baptisms I ever attended where at the catholic church, only involved a drop or two of water, and were more symbolic that an actual dunking.

So, the moral of the story? I love my son. As long as the decisions he makes about himself involve an abundance of education, and do not harm himself or others, I will be there for him, even when I don't want to.