Communion, cardboard and cake: A Mom's musings on First Holy Communion

I didn’t know what to expect when our firstborn made his First Holy Communion.  Of course I knew that he’d be accepting the Host, the body and blood of Christ, during mass that day but beyond that, there were a few unknowns.  How would he feel about it?  How would I feel about it? What, pray tell, do you get your seven year old son when he makes his First Communion?  And how in heaven’s name would I pull off the post-Communion party in the midst of traveling for work and juggling our busy lives?

The answers, it turns out, are simple.  As they often are.  How did our sweet Liam “feel” about his First Communion? “It tasted like cardboard.”  Can’t argue with that!  And, such is the level of emotion routinely revealed by your average second grade boy.  Why I continue to expect a response akin to “I’ve been spiritually renewed. I feel like a man now Ma”, I’ll never know!

As for my feelings, well, let’s just say the tear ducts got a good workout that day.  For starters, in looking at my “baby” in a navy suit, I realized that the kid he is today bears a strong resemblance to the man he will be tomorrow – not literally tomorrow but, one day in a future that I know will come far too fast. As he posed for pictures with his pals, all shined and scrubbed and full of anticipation in their matching pint-sized suits, I knew I was looking at the same group of guys that are likely to appear when he is confirmed, graduated, and married.  The spectrum of life’s milestones passed before me as the tears welled up in my eyes.  And that was all before he walked down the church aisle with a lovely little lady Communicant in a white dress.  It was before I sat in a pew, sandwiched between my parents and grandparents, with our three-year old triplets climbing in my lap thinking of how lucky we were to have four generations of O’Connor’s witnessing Liam’s special day.  And then he said “Amen”, accepted the Host for the first time and beamed me a great big grin that really got the tears flowing.  Tears of joy for my little boy.

As for the gift, well, the foreshadowing was in my husband’s remarks the day Liam was born: “He will be Catholic and he will be a Yankee fan.”  As such, it was only fitting that we gave him a beautiful Celtic cross, straight from one of the Irish shops on McLean Avenue in the Bronx AND tickets to a Yankee game… a game to be attended by just the three of us – Mom, Dad and Liam.  Needless to say, the kid was thrilled, “Just us?! Not the little guys?! Not Ciara? Awesome!”  Which is not to say that Liam doesn’t love his sister Ciara or the “little guys” (his triplet brothers, Kevin, Declan and Cormac) but his response really underscored how valuable the time we spend with him and him alone truly is.  More surprising though, was the fact that he actually liked his silver cross.  He really liked it!  He put it on right away and even asked if he could sleep in it…  suggesting, perhaps, he has greater emotional depth about this right of passage than “it tastes like cardboard.”

As for the party, it came together, as parties always do.  It was a family affair, low-key and intimate, as the best parties often are.  I wouldn’t necessarily have chosen to spend that Friday night ironing the tablecloth and prepping the salads but I’m glad I did.  I’m glad we did; my husband Des deserves at least as much credit as I do for the successful soiree we had.  It was as sweet and memorable as the cake that topped it off and the smile on Liam’s face as he dug in and remarked, “This is much better.  Not like cardboard at all!”

Lessons learned from back to school night(s)

This week was a doozy.  Monday was the 2^nd grade back to school night.  Tuesday was the kindergarten back to school night.  Wednesday night was the parent orientation for CCD and for me, a wake-up call for just how much of my Catholic education I’ve forgotten. 

I’m told that as a kid, I used to sing church hymns in the tub but, it seems with the passing of the years, I’ve forgotten not only many of those hymns but some of the Catholic basics as well – like the fact that the Sacrament of Reconciliation and First Communion both apparently take place in the second grade. This was just one eye-opening takeaway from our back to back evenings back at school; here are a few more.

1.     Second grade is tough.  Especially the spelling homework -- not the words themselves but the routine of how they must be written, then alphabetized, then used in a sentence. There is also some very specific page folding and numbering involved; it seems a lot more complicated than the good old spelling bees I recall from my youth.   What I learned from one night in second grade is that following directions is key to success... with spelling and the rest of the curriculum!

2.     Kindergarten is lovely.  There are songs, coloring, snacks, blocks and nap time. All of this appeals to me, especially the nap time.  I learned here that I would like to go back to kindergarten and I still like to color. 

3.     Our second grader is a conniver.  Of course we knew he could be mischievous at home but we thought he was an angel-child when we let him spread his wings.  Not so. His teacher very kindly told us that he likes to push the boundaries, see what he can get away with – like trading baseball cards between reading and arithmetic for example.  That is not allowed.  And so I was reminded once again that it's important to follow the rules and breaking them has consequences... in this case, there will be no more baseball cards for our budding little trader!

4.     Our kindergartner has a great voice.  And she’s not afraid to use it.  This I knew.  At home she's been known to shriek and scream like she's possessed.  However, in school, she uses the power of her apparently well-tuned pitch quite differently.  She confidently stands in front of her classmates and sings her name in the attendance song,  softly crooning like a pro. Who knew?! I learned I should listen more closely and that there is a positive way to channel that voice!

5.      We have to purchase a navy suit and white tie.  Seriously.  This is a requirement for those aforementioned Sacraments.  On the upside, when you consider the hand-me-down possibilities with our up and coming Catholic triplets, it will surely be worn more than once.  But really?  A suit?  A white tie?!  I suppose I learned that sometimes you just have to smile and play the part.  In this case, my sweet (can you be both sweet and conniving?  I think so.) second grader will be assuming the role of a more fully-fledged member of our church community and I will be the proud mama. 

That, perhaps, is my biggest takeaway from three nights in the classroom; I am indeed a proud mama.  And, I still have a lot to learn!