Play It Again, Sahm

ZeeMuzzy: the amount of time it takes for the congregation to walk from their seat to the back of the sanctuary?

PhyllisLorimer: The average for that is 21.6 seconds. So a little less than that, yes.

ZeeMuzzy: poor girl. wish i had something spiritually profound to say.

PhyllisLorimer: I do, too. You know I’d listen.

ZeeMuzzy:

my best advice is avoid checking your email for the next few minutes. any minute here, and you’ll have a rosalyn-bomb in your inbox.

PhyllisLorimer: Happy thought, indeed.

ZeeMuzzy: shouldn’t be long now. wait for it…

PhyllisLorimer: Waiting. Nothing yet.

ZeeMuzzy: wait for it…

PhyllisLorimer: Waiting with anticipation and mortal dread.

ZeeMuzzy: 3…2…1…

How very odd—six hours later and no response! I wonder what happened to her?

Phyllis

Huh. Therapy session run long, maybe?

Z

Okay, y’all… I mean, all of you (sorry Ros),

All y’all (argh, I can’t help it! I may not be native Texan, but I tell you… I have the soul of one!)—anyway, you all have inspired me with your honesty, so here’s what’s going on in lil’ old Ronnie’s corner of the earth…

Ashley’s now thirteen years old, and as determined to make her momma miserable as ever a teenager was. Keeps talking nonsense about how she wants to go live with her “real mom” instead of her dad and me—despite the fact that “Real Mom” sent BACK the Christmas presents the kiddos made for her last year! I know Ashley’s just trying to annoy us, but it’s super irritating to have to admit it works.

Courtney’s nine and Stanley’s seven. And other than the sibling war that the two girls have been waging since…birth, I guess, they’re not doing too badly.

And my baby, Stephenie is eighteen months old now! I shouldn’t phrase it like that, I suppose. I feel like the other three are mine, too, after being the only real mama they’ve ever had for three years now. But y’all know what I mean, I hope.

Lest you start thinking this is sounding an awful lot like a Christmas newsletter, I’m saying all this because of the thing I want to talk about for this Honesty topic of the week thingy.

Frank, my sweet Francesco, has been telling me that since the kids are getting older and especially with Ashley being a pain in the behind lately, and also since he wants to avoid the mistakes he made with his ex…

He thinks we should try attending church! His family back in Italy is 100% Catholic, and he’s wanting to check out our local parish.

I know most of you all on this loop are churchgoing folks, so this is where that hard-core honesty is coming in for me. I’m not real sold on the idea of going to church. I don’t think it’s very responsible of us to expect religion to solve our problems or fix our kids. You all are generally sincere and genuine people, and I respect that. I’m just not sure I’m the religious type.

But Frank really is pushing for it. I told him if he wanted to take the kids and go, I wouldn’t put up a fuss. But he doesn’t want to go without me. Not sure if there’s a sentimental reason for that or if he just doesn’t want to handle all four kids by himself. But we’re kinda at a standoff with it.

And that there’s my confession. Hey…confession! I don’t need to go to church. I’ve got all of you.

Veronica

Dia daoibh! (“Hi there” in Gaelic),

I will not reveal my given name, but I am called Iona—ever since I discovered that my great-great-grandmother was born there. I had a dream about her three years ago and she called me “her Iona.” When I woke up, I knew I had been renamed. I’m studying Gaelic, but it’s slow going because I don’t have anyone to practice it with.

I am a poet and songwriter for my husband’s band, Broken Wrench and Copper Bucket. I’ve recently joined your lovely little brigade because the Angel Child (my ten-month-old, Gabriel) and I are trying to learn our Life Dance with each other a bit better—and we’ve been stepping on each other’s toes too much.

My moment of utter honesty is thus:

I never intended to become a mother. What started as a moment of passion has become a never-ending progression of confusion. I love the Angel Child, but I don’t understand him. And the more I become his mother, the less I understand myself, as well.

I can’t share further with you right now, but I will in time. At the moment, I’m waiting for Francine to return. I was soaking up the beauty of God’s Word this morning and felt a strong urge to open the Bible to a random page. Every time that happens, it’s always a life-changing moment for me. So I did, and my finger landed on Psalm 141:2 “May my prayers be counted as incense before Thee; the lifting up of my hands as the evening offering.”

And I knew. It was clear to me that God was calling me to burn incense in our apartment so that we would no longer view prayer as something we do, but something we live. So I took the Angel Child and was on my way to a Tats ’N Wicks shop three blocks away to buy incense. But the Angel Child’s diaper sprung a leak about a block from our apartment. Just as I turned around to go home, a woman appeared and asked if she could help me. She said her name was Francine, and that she has eight children of her own and spent twenty years as a stay-at-home mother. I gave her twenty dollars and asked her to pick out something that smelled like Jesus and bring it to my apartment.

I believe God gave me that scripture verse so I would meet Francine today. She’s a treasure and blessing. She looks like a homeless prostitute—probably a meth addict. But Jesus visits us in the most unlikely disguises.

We’re going to invite her to live with us for a while.

May you live in the divine mystery of God, my friends, Iona James

What was THAT???

Brenna

I have no idea, but I think it’s gone now. Do you suppose it will come back?

Jocelyn

It? She was beautiful, and I hope she does come back. Don’t scare her off, understand? I think I’m in love…

Phyllis

Hi Krissy,

U R so NOT going to believe this. I joined this loop for stay-at-home moms this week, and they’re like really bizarre. The loop moderator just got out of some sort of mental hospital, I think. I guess she crawled into a coffin because she thought her husband was having an affair with a Lesbian! Can u imagine?

And then her sister is even worse! She’s not even a Christian. And she married a divorced guy! The scariest part is…he was raised CATHOLIC! In Italy, where the pope lives! He’s trying to talk her into going to church again. But she says she’s not “the religious type.” And they actually let her post on the loop!

There’s another new girl this week, too. She’s psycho. She has a ten-month-old baby, and she’s inviting a prostitute to live with her and her husband! I would NEVER be so totally stupid! If a prostitute even looked at my Bradley, she’d be sorry! Is sharing your home with a homeless hooker even Biblical? Nobody in our church would ever do that, I’m sure. What if she tempts the husband to, you know, SIN or something? And she thinks God told her to burn incense, too! I’m pretty certain incense is new age. You can’t be new age and still believe in Jesus, can you?

So I’m hugely bummed. I thought this was going to be a loop full of Christian SAHMs like me—well, sure, I figured they’d be a little older than me. But these people are really weird. I don’t think they’re what I’d exactly call “Christian” even.

I thought about just unsubscribing from the loop. But I really am very lonely without you here. Bradley is nice and all, but it’s SO not the same as having a best girlfriend. I decided not to leave the loop just yet, because maybe it’ll be better and I’ll meet some normal moms. I don’t want to be all like judgmental or anything, you know?