Yes, We Are A Dedicated Family...

His Highness was dedicated (similar to, but not exactly the same as, a baptism or christening) when he was about 7 months old.  Our church was having a lake day at a YMCA camp, and there were a bunch of baptisms, so to throw in a baby-dedication while we were all dressed in swimsuits and casual clothes was right up our alley.  We were proud first-time parents, and all was calm and awesome as we passed His Highness from person to person and joyfully dedicated him and our family to God.

After the Littler One was born I would occasionally think about having him dedicated, usually during the dedications of other babies in our church. I'd mention it to the Cat Daddy, and he'd say something like, "Whenever you want," or some such code for "I'm fine with this, but please don't put me in charge of making it happen."  So then Tiny E (yes, this is the one; the Cat Daddy decreed it) was born and I thought, enough is enough, these un-dedicated kids are piling up here.  And it's not that I thought anything bad would happen if we never did it, or anything like that.  It's just something I wanted to do, and I have really loved our church here, so I thought it was fitting to have them dedicated here.  And so this Sunday we did what our church calls a Parent/Child Dedication for both the Littler One and Tiny E. 

It was a nice day for it, too. Sunny and warm, and neither the Cat Daddy nor I was on the music team for the morning, so we got to get ready for church as a family, and go to church as a family, and so on.  Which, of course, meant that while getting ready for church as a family, there would be full-scale mutiny on the brushing of teeth and combing of hair, and a full-scale tantrum on the part of the Littler One, and just a tough morning all around as a family. Also, I forgot the camera.

But we made it to church in time, with the boys dressed matchy-matchy, no less, and with Tiny E in a cute little tiny dress (I also forgot her headband/bow combo).  Thankfully in this age of technology I was able to beg a friend to take pictures with my phone, and while the Otter Box hampers the photo quality, I'm still glad he could capture the occasion, because I thought he captured it well...

Here are the first moments. Pastor R is saying something witty (and likely random). Our boys are dressed alike, and I am groomed and wearing a skirt (which by this point has been spit up on twice).  We are quality individuals. 

Pastor R. is telling about the whys, wherefores, and so on of Parent/Child Dedication. His Highness is incredibly bored from having to stand in one place for more than ten seconds.  I am whispering to the Littler One, "No boobies." He is not listening.

Pastor R. is going thru the statements and such, where the congregation is promising to stand with our family, pray for us (yes please), and so on.  His Highness has slithered down the steps, head-first, on his back.  Tiny E is chillin' like a villain, and the Littler One says he wants Daddy to hold him.

Pastor R. is going thru the statements where we as parents are committing to live by and pass on our faith, and those types of things.  His Highness is (sort of) back for the moment. The Cat Daddy and I have traded children.  The Littler One is now saying he wants Mommy to hold him.  Tiny E is calmly, steadily, warmly filling her diaper, and I'm silently hoping everything stays contained. We answer "By God's grace, we do," and dear God we mean it.

I think Pastor R. has started praying.  His Highness, of course, has begun rolling around on the stage.

Pastor R. holds Tiny E while he prays for her. I'm not really strangling His Highness, just preventing him from escalating to noisy antics.  The Littler One is feeling shy and therefore taking refuge behind my butt.

Amen!  Pastor R. hands the baby back, and he is unscathed.  I am glad I've been in attendance for other babies' dedications, because otherwise I'd have no idea what I just committed to.  His Highness prances around, amusing himself extensively.  The Littler One is still safe behind my butt.  Now that it's time to sit down it takes, like, 17 hours to get the boys off the stage.  We are awesome.

Thankfully, our church is made up of the types of folks who don't bat an eye at such childish antics.  I mean, they are children after all, and moreso they are my children, so they are bound to get a little goofy every so often (or all the time), particularly when you stick them in front of people.  And being among people who understand and sometimes even celebrate us for this trait is precisely why I love this place so much. 

After church I thanked Pastor R profusely, and told him how close he came to needing a fresh shirt, or at least a good arm-scrubbing, and we were both thankful that things turned out as well as they did, all things considered.

And I felt very dedicated, indeed...