Huzzah! My eldest's first communion is over with and I have lived to tell the tale! I am still taking down streamers, chasing half-dead helium balloons around the yard and the house is still a wreck, but it was an amazing day - the weather was warm and sunny, the (catered) food was delicious, and the company spectacular. So as I return to my life before this big event and realize I have not made the deposit for Little Man's preschool next year, and other major things are dangerously close to falling through the cracks, let me give you the high and low points of the day, at least from my perspective.
Being the heathen I am at heart, the high point of the day for me had to be the car ride to the hair salon. Having been up since five in the morning, blowing up balloons and hanging streamers, I was already exhausted and over-caffeinated. At quarter to eight, I threw #1's dress and associated head gear, my dress, shoes and makeup into the car, having made the decision to dress at the beauty parlor then go straight to the church (I am there so often touching up my roots, it might as well be my second home. They greet me like Norm from Cheers when I walk in, and, no , I'm not kidding). Pulling out of the driveway, I took my first deep breath of the day, realizing my manic list-making could cease, whatever work I could do had been done and I was filled with happiness over the crystal clear, blue sky morning, Party in the U.S.A. blasting* and #1 smiling in the backseat.
If I really want to be completely vain, I'd have to be honest and confess the other highpoint of the day for me was my hair (Pictured above. Sorry, H, I couldn't be that narcissistic and cut the communion girl out of the picture, and any other crop including her face, included yours as well) Sam, my kick-ass stylist and colorist, did an amazing, red-carpet-worthy, side-swept bun that, yes, was probably too much for the occasion, as were my shoes (gold-toned python, my friends), but if you know me at all, you know everything about me is a little too much, and I would wear this hair every weekend for the rest of my life if I could. Especially since it made my husband's jaw drop, he of the, "You look nice" school of underwhelming compliments.
The low point happened, of course, in church. #1 had not really been herself all morning, quiet and complaining of stomach pains, and I feared she had picked up a stomach bug and prayed she wouldn't wind up vomiting the body of Christ all over the priest's shoes. After many bathroom stops all morning, we finally made it to mass. Five minutes to chow time, we're kneeling, and my eldest turns to me with tears in her eyes saying, " I can't see so well." I turn to her, about to explain, of course she can't, since we left her tacky-but-had-to-have-them Hannah Montana prescription glasses at home, when I notice her pupils are the size of dinner plates, I see all the color drain from her face, and she starts to sway, telling me, "I need to lie down." JESUS CHRIST THIS KID IS GOING TO FAINT!!!! Mercifully, we were in the last row and while I had been grateful for this since it allowed maximum Little Man escape routes, I never envisioned myself half-dragging my daughter down the aisle to stop her from passing out, or still laboring under the delusion this might be a stomach bug, puking on or crapping herself.
Long story short, we made into the bathroom, not before I had to give some old lady the stink eye when she tried to protest my cutting in front of her in line, even after I asked nicely, explained the situation and, you know, had one of the communion kids with me. Some cold water on the wrists and cheeks revived her and needless to say, she did not join the class in the group song, complete with odd religious hand gestures, on the altar. It was not, as I had feared, a stomach bug, since she rallied quite strongly after mass, inhaling three pieces of pizza and two cookies.
So it is done, dear readers. I speak not only of first communion, but all the stuff I hate about church - at least for #1. I haven't told her this, but she is done with CCD, although we will still be attending mass regularly. I got her this far, if she marries a die-hard Catholic, she can get confirmed as an adult with minimal effort. Then her fiance can deal with any church-induced panic attacks.
*Perpetual loop, I tell you.
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