A date with Jesus or My Friend the Nun

Next Tuesday Cassidy and the rest of her 8th grade class will get Confirmed. It's an occasion to which I have given very little thought until recently, as in the last two days. This is partly because Cass seems cool with the whole thing and has managed any classes/information about it on her own. But the other part is that I'm just so overwhelmed right now that if something in my life isn't actively broken or screaming it doesn't hit my radar of what needs to be addressed. The only reason it's hit me that in five days my daughter will promising herself to the Catholic Church is because we have been out and about shopping for a dress, slip, shoes, etc. Yes, I am still crossing my fingers for that Mother of the Year award, with my stellar parenting skills I'm fairly certain I'll get it.

I was never Confirmed. At the age of 10 my Catechism teachers informed my mother I hadn't been to class in several weeks. My mom confronted me, at which point I told her I would never again be attending a class, I didn't believe in the whole crazy scheme and it wasn't working for me. My brother was 14 at the time and creating far more havoc than my wee religious rebellion. Picking her battles, my mom decided to let me take gymnastics instead.

I sort of assumed Cass was in the Confirmation thing for a new dress and some gifts. This week she has surprised me with the depth of her consideration regarding this step. While shopping the other day she talked about "Her Friend the Nun" who had been visiting with the class in preparation for the big day. I expected an eye roll followed by a tirade about how lame the nun was. No. Red Sister adored the God Sister! In fact, Cass went on to explain, in great detail, this nun's liberal views of Catholicism and how it applied to modern day life. I was floored by Cass' exuberance and perhaps a bit scandalized by her devotion to it. We had an Adam/Eve discussion about free will vs logic. I offered up that even if there was a pair of scantily clothed folks named such maybe they had simply evolved enough from the fight/flight status to reach emotions, but  fucked it up purely because it was all so new. To this I did get an eye roll. It went on, her giving testimony and me shooting it down with my lack of faith.

When I sent Cass to Catholic school it had nothing to do with religion on my part, much to my mother's sadness. It was a good fit for Cass and that was that. Now I find something has taken root in her, something she appears to cherish. It has prompted me to spew my liberal views tenfold, testing where her other beliefs stand. So far my half-assed mothering is successful, I don't have a young republican on my hands...yet. For that I think the Mother of the Year statue should defintiely be mine: I'll be turning out a faith holding liberal with a healthy side of aggression both at work and at play. Oh look, it's all about me once again.