Philly Moms

It's Sunday. Do you know where your God is?

There are lots  of ghosts in our 19th-century pews.

Recently I became the priest-in-charge of a small country parish.

Sited off a winding road in a town near the Lancaster County border, the Episcopal church, with its sturdy arches, woodwork and lovely stained glass, is redolent of another century.  The congregation, a mixture of senior citizens, families and children, is devoted, independent and feisty.

The minister before me was the first full-time member of the clergy the congregation had for decades, and possibly centuries.  Run by generations of families whose fore bearers are buried in the large graveyard that embraces the church, it is a parish where most everybody pitches in and makes it work.

Yet I look out at the blank spaces where once farmers and laborers and village gentry sat and I wonder: where are the families that used to fill these benches.

Dressed in history

My daughter wants to give her baptism dress to her new cousin, Alma.

It’s a dress I’ve been holding on to for years, thinking my daughter might one day want to dress her own daughter in it, so I say no. I mention my imagined future grandchild and weave a pretty good argument in counterpoint to her generous impulse.

You see, the dress has history.

Peer Pressure Mommy Style

"You should be nursing. It's best for the baby and cheaper, not to mention you will lose your baby weight faster." What formula feeding mom hasn't heard that one? Or what about, "I put cereal in little Megan's bottle when she was 4 weeks, a little cereal won't hurt ! She will sleep through the night." Ha! You've heard of peer pressure, this is peer pressure mommy style, and it's everywhere. From internet parenting forums to the morning news shows to the mom sitting next to you at your kids school function. Everyone is an expert on everything and they want you to know it. Whether you like it or not.

For some reason my local Wal Mart seems to have the worst offenders when it comes to moms not being able to mind their own damn business and mommy pressuring me.

"You look like an awfully big baby to have that bottle in your mouth!' This came from a squeaky high pitched voice behind me. I reluctantly turned away from the children's cold medicine products I was picking through on the shelves to see another mom, wearing her newborn in a sling, right behind me. "She is 15 months and that's what works for us!" I snapped. She turned away looking defeated and quickly continued past me. I felt bad being so defensive but had I stuck around and played nice, who knows where the conversation would have went.