Here’s how I know that it’s Holy Week.
This morning I made myself a second cup of coffee because I’d left the first cup upstairs and was too exhausted to go get it. I needed coffee for my coffee, is what I’m saying, and that’s how I know that the Triduum is here.
Holy Week is always a seat-of-my-pants affair. What gets done gets done and what doesn’t, I let fly. I may shed some tears along the way (in fact, it’s pretty much guaranteed) but for the most part, I try to cut the corners that will keep the peace.
I say that like it’s fairly easy, but cutting corners can be deeply humbling, like when my friend Erin came over for lunch yesterday and I tried (but failed) to get the floor mopped in advance. She was gracious and didn’t seem to mind at all but I was…
Deeply humbled.
And thankful for her friendship.
And humbled.
(Some of you less-than-perfect homemakers may relate. You want to pass out protective bubbles at the door because there ain’t no WAY your house is germ-free.)
(Humbling, I repeat. HUMBLING.)
I’m reminded of the twelve apostles who must have known first hand such humility, especially when Our Lord knelt before them and took their mud-caked feet into His hands. Our God is not about being perfect; instead, He comes to us as we are.
We are, after all, His children.
I’ve mentioned crying a lot this Lent–have alluded to it, what, like a hundred times? And I will say this–set it down for the record–that this parenting-a-teen gig is one of the hardest EVER. And I think back to what *I* was like for my mom and am like…
“That poor woman made it to 90 despite me.”
Because it’s true. I could be a butt.
And yet when my teens become a bit bucky–when they rebel, push back, stare at their stupid phones all day–I forget to remember that I, too, was like that, minus the smart phone & social media, thank God.
Anyway. I have a point and I need to return (somehow) to it. So much of my Lent has been about acceptance–coming to terms with my human weakness and accepting (somehow) that God loves me regardless. I’m not EVER going to be a perfect mom…or a perfect wife…or the perfect homemaker. I am who I am and she is flawed.
Which brings me back to the title of this post. My 5-year-old and I are doing the Holy Week in Handprints project, which I highly recommend starting even today if you could. (Or tomorrow, or even next week. I am so not into perfectionism!) It’s a great little book that tells your child this great story: Jesus suffered and died and rose from the dead. This is Easter. This is God’s love for us.
Note: we sometimes skip the messy painted hand prints, opting instead for tracing his hand with a marker.
So this morning he was coloring Judas’ betrayal and wanted a gray marker for the coins. “Here’s a black colored pencil,” I offered, and he set to work saying, “It will do.”
God spoke to me then through my five-year-old’s words.
It will do…and so will I.
I hate to be one of *those* moms but sometimes I just want to say to the moms of a bunch of littles who are tired and worn out that this time of life is challenging but what until they are teens. One of mine (the first three were pretty easy) has brough me to my KNEES. I've shed more tears over her this last year than the last 22 years of parenting combined. Parenting littles exhausts the body and the mind, parenting teens (specifically troubled ones) exhausts the heart.
You've perhaps heard the saying: "Little kids, little problems; big kids, big problems."
We're fighting what Christine aptly describes below, and that's an extremely "yucky" culture. It's not for the weak, this parenting gig! And yet, it never has been.
I will pray for you and your daughter; pray, please, for me and mine.♥
These times are way more challenging then when we were teens….I remember your story and I followed a similar path as you. Our culture is just so…I don't know…yucky!?!!
You have a great family. Those teen will be ok.
Thinking of you as you are approaching a soon to be graduate. Planning a party!!??
Yes, planning a party! But first, the Eagle Scout Court of Honor in April!
(Gah!! Too much on the plate. Too much too much too much…)
You're right, though, Christine–they are good kids–and I get that it's just a difficult age. What's hard is looking back at this age with a perspective that's so, so…different from theirs.
At least, I think it's different. I'm pretty sure it is.
…should have had my second cup of coffee…."those teenS"! so embarrassing.
I went to see Jamie today and surprised her with a Bubba. I remember you had one. Am I correct?! I love my Bubba!
Best of luck planning! I am still trying to get Easter outfits together! Food is not ready. well…nothing is ready. ACK
Just my Lenten Heart for Jesus.
Hope it is good enough!
I love my Bubba too! Just need to fill it (and use it) more!!
And yes, your Lenten heart is perfect.
Ah, you made me cry. But not for the reasons you might think. Just the vision of Jesus on his knees, taking those muddy feet in his hands …
I know. It's an image that really struck me, too.
Much love, sweet Sarah. Have a blessed Easter.♥
I'm so glad you mention the teen thing. My oldest is 14. A girl. And honestly, some days I just bury my face in my hands and sob. When I see pics of her as a younger girl, I sob again. It's like when you had a baby, and no one could prepare you for what lay ahead. I feel like that about teenagers. I want so badly for it to be different with her than it was for me and my mom (I was the oldest too), but I'm learning to just step back. To accept her as she is, parent her when she needs it (or honestly, give it to Dad..she seems to respond much better to him. And taking myself out of the equation seems to temper anything before it starts). I concur what Anonymous said. Teens…wow. So hard.
You get it, don't you. We want so much to not be our mothers and yet, in a very real way, we ARE.
Stepping back is good. Letting Dad step in, even better. Have you read the Meg Meeker book, Strong Fathers, Strong Daughters ? Highly, highly recommended.
He made you so beautiful and wonderful, Margaret… I love you and I love the rawness of Holy Week too! Sending hugs and prayers for a holy and blessed Triduum! ~MollyD
I love you too, Molly D. ♥
Today (actually since last night right before bed) I have suffered at the hands (or electronic devices) of a butt (a butt from this era). How can a mother's heart be broken so many times and not literally just break? Why do we not all die of broken hearts? This teen gig ain't just the hardest thing ever, it's never ending (or seems to be) and it hurts soooo bad. There are days I think it's unfair to parent teens without a drug that just freezes my emotions — so they can't be twisted and ripped and worn raw. But, then I look at Our Lord's mother and think, "He was innocent, and yet…" But then I think, "Jesus would never have done this, or that" so I guess we all have our swords.
Going to Last Supper Mass gave me a little peace. Watching Father wash the feet of those men — they were sinners and if Our Lord could do it, surely I, a sinner, can do it. Humility is a killer — boy, if pride is the greatest sin, humliity surely is the toughest virtue. And teens will make you humble.
PS Sorry for the book. I would have preferred a hug. Love ya.
Does a series of texts count as a hug? : )
My daughter has almost completely ceased communicating with me but *will* talk to her Dad, Thank God. I want her to talk to somebody, anybody besides her therapists and psychiatrists and friends (many of whom have their own issues). There is such a conflict when your child forms a tight bond with another adult, in this case therapist, and shares so much with that person,they know your child better than you do and your child truly cares more about them than you but that person is helping your child so what do you do?. we all joke about being chauffeurs but really am one. I just take her from one appt to another, do what I am told by docs etc,….I am truly nothing but a chauffeur and she knows this, and thinks it is appropriate and fine. Like a previous poster I look at pictures of her 2,3 4 years ago and just weep for my girl. I think of that bright red *angry* little baby they handed me 16 years ago, oh and how much I loved her and still do but it isn;t reciprocated at all. It killed me when said in a family session, "I just don't love mom as much as she wants" No one warns you about this, to gird yourself. Mental illness has left this family changed forever and me, just a shell that is working on getting back to normal and accepting who she is and that I have to be satisfied with whatever love she will allot me.
If any one could tell us how our children would break our hearts, the human race would end. Who would volunteer for that? But some day she may come through the tunnel of darkness and you will have a life together beyond the life you're living now. Have hope — don't despair that this is all there is.Pray to Our Lady of Sorrows.
Anonymous, I have been praying for you and your daughter since receiving this comment. Continue to shower your daughter with love and kindness, as hard as it can be. This is sacrificial love, especially when it's not returned. It's hard. It's heart-breaking. It's the cross.
Love and prayers to you! ♥
"It will do." Amen to that, from another mother of a teenager.
A little Fr.Jaques Philippe wisdom that really struck me, and made me think about my relationship with my teenager:
We must reason as follows: if the Lord has still not transformed this person, has not relieved him of such and such an imperfection, it is because He puts up with him as he is! He waits, with patience, the opportune moment. Then I must do likewise. I must pray and be patient. Why be more demanding than God? I think sometimes that my haste is motivated by love. But, God loves infinitely more than I do; however He is less hurried!
It's from "Searching for and Maintaining Peace", but it should be titled "How not to go completely crazy while raising a houseful of a bunch of people including teenagers!"
Happy Triduum! We're almost there!