God and Thank You Notes

I feel as if I'm failing my children in two significant areas of life. First and foremost, I feel they are missing out on the gift of a religious upbringing--something that both Chris and I were blessed with. It's not that I don't have a strong belief in God myself, it's just that Chris and I can't seem to find a place where we both feel comfortable. And we can't seem to drag our asses out of bed on a Sunday morning, either. The combination is proving morally lethal for our kids. When George first began preschool at the local Methodist church, his teacher asked each of the children what they would give Jesus as a birthday present. The other religiously well-fed children said things such as "a lamb, a warm blanket, a winter coat." George, however, informed his teacher that the perfect gift for Jesus would be a "Bowling For Soup" CD. Why wouldn't he enjoy hearing "1985?" We sang it all the time. Heck, we even went to the "Bowling For Soup" concert at the House of Blues when we were in Myrtle Beach. Apparently, George didn't want Jesus to miss out on some serious rocking.

So, my first concern is that my kids don't really know much about God, Jesus, the Bible, and all things associated. We're good people at heart; we live (as much as possible) by the Golden Rule, but my kids couldn't tell you what the Golden Rule is. I am a firm believer in the Ten Commandments, but my kids think that the Ten Commandments begin with "Thou Shalt Brush Thy Teeth Twice Every Day." One of the greatest gifts my Mom gave me as a child was a Catholic school education. Growing up without a father wasn't easy, but growing up without God would have been much harder. I talk to my kids about God, but I know they don't quite "get it." He's right there with Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. Maybe a few steps ahead of the St. Patrick's Day leprechaun that also passes for the Lucky Charms mascot. I definitely need to step up to the plate. Father, forgive me, for I have sinned. It's been over a year since I took my kids to church on a Sunday other than Easter or Christmas. Four Hail Mary's isn't going to save them now.

My other misgiving is in my inability to teach my kids the proper thank-you note writing etiquette. When I was growing up, not writing a timely and thoughtful thank-you note was akin to committing a mortal sin. (See the previous paragraphs for the Catholic school reference.) I used to LOVE writing thank you notes. I could schmooze with the best of them, and I adored describing in full detail how perfect my Easy Bake Oven really was. Once I had four kids in five years, I couldn't even remember how to spell "thank you." I was so sleep-deprived and reeking constantly of spit-up that a trip to the Hallmark Store for a box of notecards was as elusive as an all-expense paid trip to Hawaii. So, I gradually stopped being grateful on paper, and my kids have never learned the art of thank-you writing themselves. Now that they're older and can bathe and wipe themselves (well, at least most of them can), I've realized with horror that this essential lifeskill is an unknown entity to my kids. I'm sure my mom is ashamed. I know my aunts and uncles are appalled. No one is as embarrassed as I am, though.

We're going to sit down as a family tomorrow and pray to God to help us learn to write a proper thank you.