WWJS - Where Would Jesus Sleep?

This week marked my 4th First Day of School as an elementary teacher - and, thank God - my third year in a Catholic school. Don't get me wrong - public schooling has its perks {I'll get back to you on what they are... someday?!}, but for me it's cool to be Catholic. Maybe it's the occasional nun in the office, or the fabulous use of plaid in a school uniform, or just the insistence on uniforms in general... Regardless of the reason, I'm happy to be back "in the fold" - even if it IS 200 some odd miles away from the Catholic school I'll always call "home"!

All of my Catholic school parents know that the first week of school always entails a brush up on Mass etiquette. And all of my Catholic school parents also know that I go WAY overboard on Mass etiquette because I'm ultra competitive and so {inevitably} are my students {ahem, 21 Blessings of 2010}... Being in Ohio hasn't dampened my desire to be "the best"; if anything, it has fanned the flames of fabulosity! So of course, before handing out all their textbooks or knowing a fire drill plan, we headed to church.

I always introduce this visit in the same manner. I say that we're going to "God's House" - a place that is not unlike your affluent neighbors' or your {more formal} grandmother's abode. We talk about using manners just as you would on a dinner visit or some other short stay. Perhaps most importantly, we discuss dress. As I often say, "you don't want to go up in God's house looking a hot mess." This usually elicits some giggles, some sage nods, and some distressed looks from students who either A. are in church every weekend in their traditional "Sunday Best" or B. have never seen the inside of a church on Sunday, much less a school day. But we take it all in stride and make the trip together as a learning experience.

The church trip is always amusing - some of my followers remember the "Holy Ghost Aisle Fall Out of 2010 or the "Continuous Genuflector of 2011". But this year takes the cake. One of my students  - we'll   call him Low Talker {I've never heard a child with a voice this deep in elementary school! It reminds me of Barry White.} - was particularly enthralled by the church walk-through. After "touring" the baptismal font, pews, and altar area, we sat down for prayer and questions. I knew when his hand shot up that I should ignore him, but he was adamant about being heard. The exchange went something like this:

Low Talker: Where's God at?

Charming Teacher: He's everywhere! Especially in your heart.

Low Talker: But you said this was His House. So where is he?

Charming Teacher: {to self} OH SNAP!    {to student} Ummm... it is His house.... but...

Low Talker: Never mind. I know where His bed is anyway. I saw it.

Charming Teacher: You saw His bed? In here?!

Low Talker: Yes {snorts at not-so-smart teacher}. It's up there in that box.

At this point the Charming Teacher and her Trust Assistant has to step back and bite their tongues to stop from giggling hysterically. Because Low Talker had just pointed to the choir loft - specifically to the organ. We laughed because earlier, our new priest - who dresses in full regalia, complete with long cassock, had mentioned going upstairs at the church to play the organ and look down on the students. {I think he was going for a kind of Santa Claus, see you when you're sleeping type idea}.

Later, when Father visited us again, I asked Low Talker if he knew who that was. Again, he was suavely confident in his answers...

Low Talker: Yes. That's God.

Charming Teacher: THAT's God? That man there?

Low Talker: Yup.

Charming Teacher: How do you know?

Low Talker: Because yesterday, you gave us that book - for church           {It was their Religion text}
                     And the picture of White Jesus looks a lot like him. And God is Jesus' Dad. So....

His voice faded and his shoulders shrugged, indicating that I should be able to piece together the obvious. As I packed up at the end of the day, I took a quick peek at the picture of "White Jesus" in the front of our Religion books. And I was more than a little shocked to note... he does bear a striking resemblance to the new parish priest. Next time I'm in the choir loft, I'm checking for pillows. Who knows? Maybe the kid knows something I don't. Wouldn't be the first time I got schooled by a student...

XO,

Lock, Stock {Crate} & Barrel

With football season fast approaching, Coach John and I are trying to push through as many wedding details as possible. {Two guesses on who is doing most of the leg work here.} The summer months have seen us check off a multitude of pre-nuptial "must-do's" from the trusty master list I found on Pinterest. {In true Type A fashion, I also created a Wedding Binder - with picture collaged front - that houses sections for ceremony, reception, personnel, budget, guests, registry, and timeline... but I digress}

Perhaps our favorite {second only to cake tasting} component of wedding preparation has been registering. Though it sounds like a recipe for disaster, this shopping extravaganza that seemingly no man would enjoy has been an event that Coach John and I turned into the ultimate team sport. If we'd thought on it earlier, we'd have made a playbook- detailing the Crate & Barrel sales floor and how to navigate it faster and more smoothly than the other engaged couples zapping bar codes that afternoon. A thought to all you almost-engagers out there...

Our foray into wedding registries started out innocently enough. Because John and I have lived on our for some time {I in random, sporadic intervals when not happily ensconced in my parents' house with the pool and five furry friends}, we have acquired a collection of home goods that - while not top of the line - are in great shape and entirely useable. I frequently lectured John on not being greedy when we registered, suggesting we make lists of things we didn't have - but REALLY needed. Like a drying rack. Or a new ironing board. Or a nice knife set without plastic grippies. {You get the idea}. It was with this semi-monastic attitude that I arrived with Coach John at Columbus' outdoor shopping mega-metropolis, Easton Town Center.

Little did I know what would be lurking behind the doors of Crate & Barrel when friendly associate and wedding specialist Joshua {an absolute doll with a penchant for brightly colored napkins and modern flatware} took us in hand. He gave us the tour, along with asides on what "everyone else" was doing with their registries and what he, himself, recommended. Joshua and I instantly hit it off {he wants to be a teacher and LOVES J. Crew} and Coach John was ecstatic that all of this registering was done with a combo of iPhone apps and "guns". As Joshua left us to our own devices at the corner of china and bar paraphernalia, I could swear I heard a starting gun somewhere in the distance.

AND THEY'RE OFF....

If our registry experience had been a sporting event, I'm sure the play-by-play announcing would have been sheer genius. A real treat to viewers and listeners alike. As Coach John vainly tried to develop a system for moving around the store in quadrants {defensive coverage, anyone?}, I surged like a tidal wave across the kitchen offerings. My fiance quickly realized that there was no stopping this train. So he soon joined the fray with reckless abandon. I zapped everything from a pancake batter pourer {saw it on Pinterest} to a juicer {I'm blaming Joshua for this one}. Coach John aimed for professional grade knives and a set of technologically perfect beer mugs. I must have really been caught in a madness of almost-marital bliss; because at one point, I even suggested Coach John include a mini-keg that specialized in Heineken.

After two hours of tagging {and a 30 minute heated discussion on burnished vs. shiny silverware}, it was over. A barrage of electronic sounds reverberated in our heads - collateral from the melee. Staring at each other in disbelief {and a small dose of buyers' - or would that be bridal - remorse}, we left quietly and refueled at the Starbucks on the corner. Later that night, as we sat in our apartment with Jolene, we pulled up the list on the laptop.

"A juicer?!" Coach John questioned skeptically...

"Who needs that many types of glasses? We're not running a bar!" I exclaimed.

"So pumped about the knives..."

"So pumped...."

It was then that I realized that my initial plan had gone seriously haywire. Did we need to ask for a few things? Of course. Did we need a JUICER? Of course...Not. So after a little more "bridal remorse", I did what any self-respecting bride would do. I started editing. But that brew-on-the-go tea mug is staying, dammit!

XO,