Cedar Rapids, we have a chanter

At tonight's paraklesis service, we had a bit of a surprise. There were four adults and one mischievous, bright-eyed, and surprisingly bold little boy around the chant stand. We got to "God is the Lord," chanted the first two verses and refrains and, as we were getting ready for the third verse, an unexpected voice pipes up with "This has been done... by the Lord, and... it is wonderful in our eyes." Two small breaks to make sure he read everything correctly, intoned on pitch, with a proper ending phrase. I just about could not chant the refrain because I was trying not to laugh. This comes after about a week ago he began chanting the apolytikion for St. Mary Magdalene by making sure he got the tone right: "Di, Vou, Ga, Di."

The little boy is growing up. And he is paying attention. Somehow. In the middle of all that running, wiggling, jumping, laughing, whining, thumping, and general causing of havoc.

What has he been eating?

Me: Teddy, why are you squealing?
T: Because there's a siren inside?

Solo church adventures

So, I have a twenty-month-old daughter. And now, a two-day-old son. (The four-year-old overactive wannabe altar boy will be discussed at a different time). Back to the daughter who, now that her mother is not coming to church for forty days, does not have a designated chaperone. Several parishioners have lovingly volunteered to help, but they may not be able to make weekday services. On such occasions, Lucia would be on her own (or, as a parishioner likes to say, not tethered).

Well, today was one of those days. I took the older two with me when I went to get ready for service. While I was getting things ready, I spent as much time as I could with Lucia, but then the service started. She went and sat on the first pew. And sat there through Orthros and Liturgy. By herself. And mostly paid attention. Did I mention that she is twenty months old?

In Orthros she spent some time leafing through the Liturgy book (quite carefully). In Liturgy, well, she spent a lot of time just paying attention. How do I know? Because when I turned out to give the peace, she looked at me and moved her left hand as if she were blessing. When I said "Let us lift up our hearts," she lifted up her hands like I had done. And when it came time for communion, she came down by herself and waited patiently to be the third (of four) to receive, and then went back to her spot in the first pew.

All I can say is glory to God and I am very grateful for this little girl.

Teddy Quotations

Following the service on Sunday, the organ started playing.  Teddy looked at me and asked, "is it time to get married?"

This morning, missing his cousin B, he asked, "Why do they [his cousins] have to go to school to be smart?"  I responded that he would need to learn things, too.  He looked at me patiently and explained, "I'm already smart."

I like his logic

Me: Teddy, why did you not write that 'e' at the end?
Teddy: Because it's silent.

Point-up-point

At Teddy's and my Irish dance class, one of the warm-up exercises is called "point-up-point."  (You point your toe, bend your knee until your toe is at your opposite hip, then point again, while hopping on the other foot, in time to the music.)  Lucia has been quite interested in everything that goes on at dance class, loving to watch the dancers and listen to the music.  This week, however, she tried dancing herself.  The funny part was, she can't actually do the dance, since, at the age of one, she's just mastered standing up.  So her hands were on the floor, and her right leg (and then later, her left leg) was flailing away in a not-too-bad attempt at point-up-point with the rest of the class.

Growing Up

Mommy: "Teddy, what do you want to be when you grow up?"
Teddy: "Daddy.  And when I get little, I will be Lucia."

Fair enough.