Letters were sent home the other day from Zane's school regarding First Communion and First Confession. These are part of growing up in the Catholic church, and they happen in the second grade around here. The letter was three pages, single spaced. My son needs to know these prayers, yada, yada, yada. I read the letter carefully, which means that I skimmed it, because three pages. So I almost missed it.
The last page of the letter stated that Zane would have to keep a log of all of his church visits. Not only that, he would have to be responsible for writing down the name of the priest celebrating the Mass, but he would have to get an usher to sign his log. He will have to keep this log for six months.
They expect an eight year old boy, who regularly loses socks, shoes, and tiny Lego parts. An eight year old who forgets where he put every single thing. He regularly comes to me in tears because he can't find his shin guard, or he can't remember where he put his homework folder, or he lost the band aid that was on his finger. THIS child is supposed to be responsible for keeping track of a single piece of paper FOR SIX MONTHS?
That means that I am responsible for keeping track of a single piece of paper for six months. Remember that kid who can't remember where he puts anything? He gets that from me. I forget where I put things all the time. Add the side effects of chemo and all the anesthesia I've inhaled over the past year, and I'm lucky if I remember my name on a regular basis.
So now I'm terrified that I am going to lose that stupid piece of paper. I'm terrified that I'm going to forget to give it to Zane after Mass so he can get the right signatures. I'm terrified that I'll forget the name of the priest who said the Mass. I don't want to be THAT mom, the one whose son wasn't allowed to make his First Communion. My parents would disown me, and my son would be devastated.
I'm completely stressed out about it, which I'm pretty sure negates the entire spiritual aspect of this particular rite of passage, at least for me. But it's not about me. This is supposed to be a bonding experience, between Zane and God. I just hope that I don't lose my mind first.
I don't even want to talk about Confirmation.