It’s back to school season with the last of the schools in the U.S. starting up after this Labor Day weekend comes to a close. Children are trying on outfits, putting their names on backpacks and picking out new lunchboxes. But beyond the ritual of buying schools supplies, what can you do to create a sacred space around going back to school?

Starting a new grade is a big rite of passage for children — one that more often than not goes by unnoticed. In the flutter, hurry and relief(!) of finally getting those kids back in school, busy parents don’t have a lot of time to mark the moment. So here are 3 easy ways to honor the back to school process.

1. Special Breakfast. For many years I had a habit of making the children a special breakfast for the first day of school. The food wasn’t that fancy, just French toast and orange juice usually. But I made a special effort to set the table nicely, maybe with flowers or pretty napkins. I left a note on each of their plates with an affirmation for the year — my hopes for them that season. “May you make friends who love and respect you.” Or “This year – long division with ease!” Other options: a scripture verse to guide the year, or a favorite quote or poem about growing up, challenges, or surprises.

2. Growth Spurt: Many people have a practice of taking a photo of their children on the first day of school. Why not take it in front of something that can measure their changing height as the grow — say, with the same door frame in the background, or the swingset poles besides them. When they come home from school the first day, lay all the photos out in a row on the coffee table and let them celebrate how much they’ve grown.

3. Dreamboards. This year for back to school I made a collage for each of my girls with my hope for their learning experiences this year (both in and out of school.) I’m hoping that Cate will learn to love reading just a little bit more. (Time to give in and start buying graphic novels.) And my dream for Eden is that she discover ways to challenge her learning (even in the laid-back Danish skole system.) Both girls loved their pictures and we’ve hung them in the entry hall to keep those dreams fresh in our minds. This practice is especially nice because you can do it even if the kids’ first day has already passed

What do you do to celebrate the first day of school. What ritual or practice do you use to mark this rite of passage?

I struggle to live in the moment. So often I am casting my gaze back in regret and longing, or throwing myself forward in to future worries. I know it’s healthiest for me to live mostly in the Now. But to the Now I feel foreign born, and like an adopted child returning to the place of her birth, I must work a little harder to feel at home on what is truly my native land.

I notice this most when Summer fades to Fall, and the days begin to shorten. I start missing the Light even before she is gone. Start longing for her while she is yet by my side. And in doing so I waste the last long rays of her presence.

This then is my attempt to stay with her, to stay present as long as she is still here.  To remain alert to her companionship. To “…follow the day and reach for the sun.”Later when she is gone, these images may hold her near to me a little longer yet, until she gently moves my hand from her hers, pats my shoulder, and tells me to lean into the next season until she returns.  

 How do you stay present to the edge of this season? What will you need to transition into the next?

Cate as her pirate alter-ego, One-Eyed Jan, ready to defend her booty.

What the adorable offspring said:

“Mommy, why don’t you do something with me? All you ever do in Denmark is chores and work on the computer. And now all you are doing on our vacation is the computer!”

What actually happened the preceeding three weeks, when I did plenty of chores, but DID NOT WORK AT ALL.:

- trips to the homemade ice cream place
- daily swims in the ocean
-not one, not two, but three birthday celebrations
-kayaking by moonlight to watch fireworks explode over the Puget Sound
-letting the children swim–fully clothed– at 10pm
-tie-dying 7 kidlet t-shirts
-massive pirate-hunt with real buried treasure
-Eatin’ Eyeball hunt with a toy surprise in the pack
-approximately one million breakfasts, second breakfasts, lunches, snacks, dinners, and desserts
-4,000 tolerant hours of Sponge Bob Square Pants, ICarly and SYTYCDance
-numerous convertible rides
-making dreamboard collages with the cousins
-kite flying….

There’s more, but I forget. Still, I felt totally guilty for several hours while I tip tapped typed away that day. Oh those blue eyes, they are deadly.

What kid tactic really gets your parenting guilt goat? Tell us (and how you combat it) in the comments below. “Ain’t nobody going anywhere but together!”

Cate’s year of adventures, starting with the amusement park Tivoli in Copenhagen.

Dear Catie,

This morning when I woke up I was chewing, chewing, chewing away about what to write to you for this your Number Nine Birthday.

I’ve been thinking a lot about how Mama and Grandpa like to tease you about getting so grown up. I always say, “Catie! Who told you you could grow up so fast!” And Grandpa says you have to stay 8 another year because he missed your Number 8 year while you were in Denmark. (At least he’s “letting” you turn 9 when we celebrate all the cousins’ birthdays next week!)

But you know what Cate? I don’t think it’s very nice of us to tease you so. You are great at every age!

©       We loved you when you were one second old and crying softly in the operating room.

©       We loved you when you were Baby Cate and your tiny little tushy never touched the ground because no one ever wanted to put you down.

©       We loved you when you were a toddler and said such funny things like “I am getting fwusterated” and “I got distwacked” and “That’s ig-GUSTING!” and “I NOT yelling. I cweaming. You know, CWEAMING!!!!”

©       We loved you when you started school and uncovered your Superpower of being the Worlds Friendliest Child.

©       And we love you now when you are still just the right fit for a cuddle, but getting so big and independent as well.

Every age and stage of life is full and good things and challenges. And just because we love your little self so, we shouldn’t make you think there’s not fantastic stuff ahead in your bigger and bigger girl self. Because baby, there is some good stuff waiting for you this year. Nine is just fine!

This year you did so many big kid things! You learned Danish, a language so hard even Mama can’t learn it – yet you speak it like a pro. Danish grownups always say how perfect your accent is! And you’ve made friends from all over the world: Danish pals like Sara and Sidse, Mia from China, and dear, sweet Johanna from Estonia. You get to do a lot more independent things now, like taking the dog out by yourself or riding your bike to the library with Eden. You even get to walk to the train station to meet Daddy for dinner at McDonalds! Woah!  I don’t think I got to do any of that stuff until I was at least 10 – and that was in the old days when kids got to do that stuff younger. You are really doing great on the responsibility thing Cate!

I hope you will always remember your wonderful year of adventures: riding the double-decker bus in London; drawing the David in your sketch book in Italy; learning about old fashioned skole in Sweden; and picking up pebbles from the Berlin Wall in Germany. And don’t forget the Towers and Dome Tour of Europe with Eden and Daddy! I wonder how many steps you three have climbed to get to the top of the world?

I know this birthday summer here on the island with Giggy, Bompa and the cousins is going so fantastic for you. I’m so glad you get to start Year Nine off in such a beautiful place. I hope the peacefulness of this place – the still morning waters, the long glowing sunsets, and the hush of the rustling trees—sinks down deep inside you and fills you up for when times are not-so-easy. And I know you will be filled up to the top with joy as you run around with your sister and cousins: going out in the double kayak with Preston, building forts and hunting for treasure with Noah and Luke, and showing Jilly and Amelia all the best places to find crabs. Not to mention all the fun that is waiting for us still with the big Chapman cousins in Chicago. (Oh, Mommy cannot stand to look when y’all have Danger Adventures with the big boys! “Do you know you are very strong?”)

I love you Cate Shalom, and I’m so proud of my growing-up “Baby Cate.”

Lots of Love,

Mama

Cate loves collage, drawing, cooking, giggling and screaming. She celebrated her birthday with mocktails, sushi, and a Costco cake that could feed approximately 3,000. She is having 5 birthday parties this year in 2 countries, 3 cities, and 4 houses. You can celebrate her for hours here and here.

You can find more of Catie’s masterpieces here or here.

A picture book by Cate Chapman, age 8. (To see it on a bigger screen click here. )

Dear Catie,

I know Momma’s all over the world say this at nearly every birthday for nearly every child, but I cannot believe you are eight years old! You have such a sweet little voice, and the top of your head still smells like baby hair – so I often forget how much you have grown up!

The child development books say there are years of equilibrium and years of dis-equilibrium, and this has been an unbalanced year for you. You’ve done a great job, and worked hard at growing up, but it has been hard and sometimes you have been tired.

Seven has reminding me a lot of three, with my golden-haired baby suddenly errupting into ‘the rage mister.’ Daddy and I have tried to teach you that it’s okay to be angry. But that anger shouldn’t be thrown at other people. You’ve worked hard to get your anger into a reasonable level so that you don’t hurt the dog or your sissy with scary voices or mean words. I’m proud of you! And you are doing very VERY well at figuring out what emotion is hiding behind anger’s big noise. Did you know that a lot of grown-ups can’t even do that! You are so awesome!

This year we moved away from Seattle to Denmark. It was a HUMONGOUS change, and you are handling it really, really well. I know you are frustrated that you don’t speak Danish yet (especially because Sissy does.) But you understand SO much, and you are already making Danish friends. So don’t worry, you will speak it soon. And don’t worry about forgetting English either. I promise you will always remember your English words. You don’t have to trade one for the other.

Your superpower of Friendship has definitely been able to Shine this year! You made such close friends with sweet Claire before we left, and every kid in class wrote amazing things about you in your goodbye book. I’ll never forget you reading that book so tenderly, and not even wanting to share it with mommy at first, because you knew how precious all those words were. You cried a little and said, “Mommy, I wish I could just call all these friends and say ‘thank you’ because they said SUCH nice things about me!” And do you know what baby? They are all true! Just yesterday Daddy said that you have special aura about you that draws people to you. Everyone says they notice you because you have such cute hair, but Daddy thinks it is because of your superpower. People are drawn to you because you are such a good friend. I guess that’s why every kid on the street waves to me – even though I don’t know them—and then says to their Mom or the friend they are walking with, ‘Det er Cate’s Moa’ (That’s Cate’s Mom!) Everyone knows Cate because she is good friend!

You are going to get to do such amazing things this year! Go back to drum or piano lessons. Sail to an island in the Danish sea. And because sculpture is your favorite, we will go to Italy so you can see the very best sculpture in the whole world. I can’t wait to see you looking up at those amazing Michelangelo’s! By this time next year you will have a whole slew of new friends on your playdate schedule; a half dozen new pins on your ‘where I’ve been’ map; and maybe even a solo airplane flight to sail with Grandma and Grandpa on the Lady Penelope!

Thank you for being my younger (not little!) daughter, and for being the best cuddler in the whole wide world. I love you, ‘Baby’ Cate!

-Moa

click watch a joyful romp

mother’s prayer #105

may my children for always
feel this at home in
their holy, beautiful bodies.
amen.

Cate was yelling at me. Again.

Every day it’s the same story. I pick Cate up from school and she happily shows me the new trick she can do on the peddle car; the stone she dug up in the sand pit; how many times she can hop the jump rope on one foot. We find Eden and start the ten minute walk home. By minute seven Cate is screaming about something. Anything.

We started with sympathy, then moved on to time outs, and I’m sure at some point there’s been some yelling on my part as well. Clearly Cate was struggling with the transition between school and home. Clearly she was angry. And clearly whatever she was yelling about was not what was really bothering her.

Finally, I sat her down at the kitchen table and got down at eye level. I addressed her very calmly and very seriously, “Cate. This isn’t working. You’re having trouble moving between being at school and being at home. I can see that you are angry, right?”

“Yes! I. AM. ANGRY!” (also crying)

“It’s totally okay to be angry. But screaming at Mommy is not okay, right?”

“RIGHT! OKAY? OKAY? RIGHT! RIGHT! RIGHT!”

“Did you know anger is a cover-up emotion? It covers up some other emotion. Something else is hiding under there.”

“It is?” (now backing down to mere sniffles)

“Yes. And I need you to think about it and tell me what it is that’s hiding under there.”

With that, the floodgates broke open. She missed all the friends she left behind when we moved. She didn’t have any friends at school. And she missed BF Day (her old school.) And some of the kids said mean things. And she doesn’t know Danish yet. And her only friends who speak English live far, far away. And did she mention, she didn’t have any friends at school?

Well, I’d already addressed all of those things. We talked about how making friends was her superpower, but that it took time. I had reminded her that we had only been at the new school for 2 weeks. I had explained that it would take a little longer than usual because we don’t know Danish yet. But, I had assured her, friends would come.

Knowing I’d already said all of this, and having a not unsmall amount of parental wisdom, I did not go into this again. Instead I asked her a question of clarification, “Cate. Do you want Mommy to talk about all these problems with you, or do you just need someplace to put them all.”

“Like what place?”

“Like a shrine.”

“I could make a shrine?”

Sure could. I dove under my desk and came up with three or four odd little boxes and tins. Cate chose a tin that used to hold bandages – Jesus bandages to be exact. After asking for stickers, tape and some scratch paper, Cate went to work. Soon she had a bonafide Shrine for Hard Feelings. It consisted of the bandage tin, a sticker of a sacred heart Jesus, some fortune cookie sized strips of paper cello-taped to the side, and one of those tiny golf pencils. Cate wrote her hard feelings down on the pieces of paper and tucked them into the tin.

“If I put these in here, Jesus will make the sad feelings go away.” she said.

“Well,” I fine tuned, “Jesus might not make them go all the way away, but at least he can hold them for a little while.”

Cate has been faithfully using the Shrine for Hard Feelings for a week now. Sometimes she’ll start ramping up into a yell-fest, but then you can see her sort of visibly pull up, and she’ll say “Wait a minute,” and go find her shrine. I’ll see her scribbling away, then tucking the paper into the tin and snapping it shut. A few minutes later she’ll be back with me, or her sister, or her dad, and the steam will have been vented.

Sometimes I wonder what all my ad hoc spirituality is teaching my children. I’m trying my best — but so did my parents, and my church, and my religious school — and I sure ended up with a bunch of crap mixed in there with the goodies. If I make up random sacraments, if my children spend their lives building Shrines for Hard Feelings and hurling plates at Anger Altars, will they regret it? I am not sure. But this I believe; my attempts, though small and flawed and most assuredly open for misinterpretation, these humble attempts at caring for these precious souls will teach them these true things

Your feelings are real.
Someone loves you enough to help in hard times.
God is big enough to handle your anger.
There is a place for you.

That seems like a good place to start.

Cross-posted at BlogHer with links to other great blogs about children’s spirituality.

There was no church for us today, at least not in a cathedral. Still, I’m pretty sure we were playing in heaven’s backyard when we joined up with HopeRevo. This afternoon Cate and I worshiped at the altar of hope–crayolas and markers our consecrated objects, water and paints our bread and wine.

The women of Rwanda have taught me more about grief, hope, and forgiveness than any sermon of hymn could convey, and I’m happy my daughters and I can join them in their knowledge, exchanging hope across the miles.

Here’s Catie’s hope note to a Rwandan girl her age. They haven’t met each other, but very soon this card will unite their hearts. You can play in the fields of hope too! Click here and join our church service already in progress. Here’s to Hope and all her siblings!

“mukobwa-wurwanda niwowe mbaraga zigihugu uwize aramenya, abakobwa babanya merica bwaragu shyigikiye.” Translation: Rwandanese girls; you are the power behind your country! Someone who learns is the one who knows best. American girls are supporting you!

“Lie back, daughter, let your head be tipped back
in the cup of my hand.
Gently, I will hold you.
Spread your arms wide, lie out on the stream and look high at the gulls.

Phillip Booth, Words of Mouth

Jesus in My Stomach
orginally posted November 10, 2003

Yesterday my sister in law emailed me from Africa. She’s a missionary there, in Kenya. She and her husband work incredibly hard to install water systems and build medical facilities and school houses. They are an amazing couple.

Anyway, she emailed us yesterday to tell us “very exciting news.” Now, when I see this in an email from my relatives, I assume this means someone is having another baby. (We are the only ones stopping at two.) However, this time she was super excited because her four year old daughter had accepted Jesus into her heart.

Now I’m happy about this. This is very, very sweet. But at the same time, this makes me wonder, because even though I am an ordained minister, I have not so much as even offered to pray with my children about asking Jesus into their hearts. In fact, it hasn’t even crossed my mind.

After reading the email, I turned to Cate, who was sitting next to me at the computer and said, “Cate? Where does Jesus live?” “In your bah-dee silly!” Cate replied. (Cate is three.) “Oh Yeah?” I answered, nonchalantly, “Where?” “Here.” Cate pointed to her heart, with an uncapped purple marker, tapping her sweater several times.) “That’s great Catie. Glad to hear it.”

On to the next child, age 5, who’s cutting out paper dolls in the living room. “Eden, where does Jesus live?” Eden answered, sounding very bored and put-out, “In heaven….on the earth in the olden days….in my heart.” Again I try the nonchalant parent voice, “Yeah, that’s good to know Eden. You know, Auntie Jewel says Joanne just asked Jesus to live in her heart.” At this point Eden put down her scissors and looked at me with her head cocked to one side and her mouth scrunched up like she does when she thinks a grown up is trying to pull one over on her. “Jesus lives in everybody’s heart. Everybodies in the whole world, Mommy!” “Yeah, Eden. That’s kinda what I think too. (pause) Unless someone wants to kick him out.” Eden shrugged. Then she went on to her paper dolls and I went into the kitchen, confident that my kids were aokay in the ole’ salvation book.

That’s pretty much how I form my theology. Thirty four years of sermons, 12 years of Christian education, 4 years of Christian college, three years in seminary… and it all boils down to 2 conversations with the 5 and under set. Go figure.

Of course, the next day Cate told me Jesus lived in her stomach…with her baby, “Nina”….not sure what that’s supposed to mean…

Bunnyville Bunnies All the Time

Chapter 1: Bunnyville

Once upon a time there were lots of bunnies. They decided to make a ville. They called it Bunnyville. Everything was made in the shape of bunnies. On the dollar bills and coins there are bunnies. Everyone was happy. Then one day, a new person came to Bunnyville. Her name was Miss Lady Lavender. Of course, she’s a bunny. She took care of the pet store, the bank, and the adoption place. And all they sold at the pet store was bunnies. The adoption place is where you can adopt bunnies. You also get a bed and stuff, but when you buy a bunny [at the pet store], you just get a bunny.

Chapter 2: The Bunnies Who Never Listen

There were four bunnies. They never listened to any other bunnies, and there were a lot of other bunnies. There names were Bassie, Brittany, Abraham, and Katrina. The other bunnies decided to do something about these four, so they played tricks on them. The other bunnies made a hole and put a cloth over it. Two of the bunnies, Bassie and Abraham, fell into the hole. Then the other bunnies made a trap by hanging a rope from a tree with a loop on the ground. Then Katrina put her foot inside the loop. The bunnies pulled on the rope and she was dangling from the tree. Then they made another trap with a net on the ground. Brittany walked over the net, and the bunnies pulled on the rope and Brittany was swinging in the net from the tree.

Chapter 3: The bunnies that got lost in the woods

There were these bunnies who wanted to go camping, so they asked their mamas. The mamas said, ‘Yes.’ They went right into the smack middle of the woods. The bunnies couldn’t find a map, so they were lost. One of the bunnies called Miss Lady Lavender, and told her that they were in the smack middle of the woods and they were lost. Miss Lady Lavender came with a boy bunny named Little Chester. The lost bunnies said, “We’re so glad that you guys are here.” And they got rescued.

The End.

As pop-up book that just might entice you to sing as reviewed by Cate, age 7:

“Five Little Speckled Frogs book is a good book. It has a Papa and a sister and baby frogs. I like it because it has little things like mouses and baby mouses and mouses that are cheerleaders and also a ice cream truck. There are bugs on a boat and there are mouses and the mouses are on trapezes, and there are swimming mouses and mouses in a hot air balloon.”

A mother’s note: In spite of all mention of mice, this is truly a book about frogs based on the children’s song which teaches kids to count down (and back up) from five. The illustrations are adorable — as you may have guessed from all the mention of the cute mice — and include all kinds of animal friends. This is one of those pop-up books which is part art and part mechanical wonder. There are lots of tabs to pull and the frogs leap, spin, and jump off that log in wonderful ways. Even though it is intricately made, it’s held up well under lots of use. It’s equally loved by our 3 year old neighbor, and 7 year old Cate, who is proud to be able to now read it by herself.

Cate: “Our teacher says this is the most important thing in our whole lives, and it’s NOT!”

Me: “What is the most important thing in life Cate?”

Cate: (sounding disgusted at my ignorance) “Your FAMILY.”

Me: “Oh, right. Well, some Christians believe that people will go to hell if they don’t know and love Jesus. So your teacher was probably just worried and wanted to make sure you know Jesus.”

Cate: “Mom. I already love Jesus, so this piece of paper is still not the most important thing in our whole lives.”

Eden (piping in with equal indignation): “I don’t even believe in hell.”

Me: “Well, some people do and we should be careful not to make fun of their beliefs. For instance _________ and _______ believe in hell.”

Eden: “That’s because they’re Republicans.”

Something about this makes me hope none of these children grown up to be surgeons.

Dear Cate Shalom,

Today you are adding another year to your age, and as much as I’d like to freeze frame each adorable stage, the reality is that you are now 7 years old. It hardly seems possible that nearly 8 years ago I was standing shell-shocked with a baby on my hip and a pregnancy test in my hand. But here you are celebrating on this one calendar square both your last day of first grade and your first day of being seven. (Too bad you had that s’mores overdose and threw up last night or this day would be a whole lot more fun!)

This past year has been wonderfully, typically Cate – full of giggles and good humor with just a touch of stubbornness thrown in for good measure. This year you learned how to read and how to make scrambled eggs. You fell in love with your favorite subject, math, and your favorite friend, Claire. Most cunningly you developed the fine art of manipulation in which you push your sister until she yells some mean name at you, resulting in one parent or the other telling Sissy to let you have (fill in the blank) – which was your clever goal all along. You love all things food – growing veggies, cooking together, and trying all things adventuresome. You love tuna fish, sushi, and the fancy turkey sandwiches from our favorite coffee shop with cranberries and sprouts. When I ordered that one for the first time, you drew a diagram of it with labels in my notebooks so that we could make it again when we got home! Most of all you love going on “Daddy-Daughter dates” to all the local bakeries in search of the perfect donut.

This year you finally got those drum lessons you’ve been planning since you were three. The first thing you said about your teacher, Lacey, was that “she has such SPARKELY eyes!” As soon as you got home from your first lesson you played the drums for Monkfish Abbey while wearing the Esmeralda costume Rosie gave you, complete with a hip scarf trimmed in gold coins. This Summer you’ve been giving the neighborhood free drum concerts while you practice every night on my bedroom balcony – usually while wearing a rainbow striped poncho and your purple-and-raspberry beanie. Our musician neighbor David says you are a perfect beatnik drummer. (Right on!)

As a six year old you took on some big responsibilities like: watering your own lettuce patch in the back garden, walking Neela and Sam’s dog Merlin while they were away, and feeding Samson each night. I feel very proud of you! I hope you feel proud of yourself too!

My fondest memory of you this year is our “4 minute cuddle” that we have each morning, just you and me! (I like how you’ve managed to bump it up from the 3 minute cuddle we used to have!) I love your infectious laugh that often rings through the house. I adore it that your birthday party this year is “pirates and tea sandwiches;” that you went all by yourself with Daddy to see Great Grandma in California; and that any time I say “I don’t know how to make that, Catie” you just grab scissors and tape and make it yourself. I even love it that you so often “get distwacked” in the morning! (Once, when Souren asked what distracts you so much in the morning, I said, “Oh, anything!” Then I went upstairs to find that you still weren’t dressed because you were carefully walking around the outline of the Hello Kitty on your beach towel. I’m glad you’ve got your priorities straight!)

You kiddo, are really great! I’m so glad you came to us as a surprise to fill up our lives with laughs and wonder. Here’s to wearing out another year’s worth of brown boots!

Love, Momma

Eden: “Nuh-uh. If you can lick the tip of your elbow, then you are a fairy.”

Cate: “No, if you can lick this part of your elbow with your tongue you are a tree fairy, and if you can lick the tip of your elbow with your tongue you are a sky fairy.”

Me: “Did you guys read this in that book Fairy Dust and the Quest for the Egg ?

Cate: “No.”

Me: “Did you two make it up?”

Cate: “No. (pause) It’s true.”

Me to Cate: “Well this week we don’t have any orthodontist appointments so you don’t have to miss any Spanish.”

Eden: “So you have to suffer as I suffer! Bwah-ha-ha-ha!’