We have lived in NY for the last 2 weeks, during this time we lived mostly in Bronxville, NY. What a difference. We of course miss the 'Ville and seeing family everyday- but it's good to be home.
Take Church for example. In Bronxville, first we went at the ungodly hour of 9:30 am. While the church is very nice and quaint it is PACKED with holy rollers with their fur coats, their piles of envelopes (to show that they are there and a counted for- they must give envelopes for each parishioner to make sure when it's time to cash in on the benefits of being a parishioner their dollars are accounted for), and bad attitudes, not so much with Jesus in their hearts at 9:15. The church was packed- people were standing in the back and there were kids everywhere. It was a very nice service, although you couldn't really hear anything with all the kids crying, squealing and screaming. We usually sit in the back, so as to not disturb anyone, and the size of our church in general is 100x larger than the quaint church we went to in the 'Ville. It's where my parents got married, where I was baptised and where my cousin serves as an alter girl. It's also where people literally get the heck out of dodge as soon as they drop off their envelope. True story, as SOON as donations were collected the church emptied out. There is maybe 15-20 more minutes of the service to go, but with their checks in the mail there was no need to stay.
Our church, however, is huge and filled with complete randoms. Like the couple today who brought their statues to be blessed (we hope). They were carrying them like they were babies, not the lawn decor we hope they will be used for. At our church, there are no envelopes- just people who might be the homeless walking around with baskets. Where the money goes, we aren't sure- but at least we know they aren't counting to keep track of whether or not we are worthy to be considered a part of their parish.
It's also where we are getting prepped for L's introduction to the Catholic faith. We went to our baptismal prep today. It was us and another mom, with the godmother, the baby and the mom's mom who was clearly driving this boat. She insisted on having the baby take part of the Spanish service our church offers, while the mom of the baby just rolled her eyes and commented several times under her breath how she doesn't really speak Spanish. Once again, to me, the unreasonable reality of family getting involved where it isn't necessary nor appropriate. It's not like the baby speaks Spanish therefore they should go to the Spanish service- shouldn't the mother and the godmother (and presumably the father and god father) understand what they are committing to??
I digress, it's good to be home. We do not miss the fur coats or bad attitudes- but our church isn't with out incident. For example, upon leaving the church today we were faced with picketers and not those on the writer strike (And when is that going to end? If I have to watch one more repeat, I'm going to cut a B). Instead these line walkers were spreading the word of sexual molestation - ah Sunday morning preachin', you wouldn't find that in the 'Ville . It sure is good to be home.