The worst Lenten sacrifice ever

This year I made my worst Lenten sacrifice ever. No, I didn't give up chocolate or Diet Coke...that's child's play. This is even worse than when I gave up sitting on my couch. This year I gave up Facebook and I am struggling, people.

I know that lamenting here about the sacrifice makes me a Pharisee who walks around in ashes and cloth asking for attention. I promise this is a one-time only whine because holeeeeey smokes, what have I done?!

I've been nudged to give up Facebook for Lent by a good friend for a few years. A couple of times I tried to dictate one day of the week during Lent would be Facebook-free. I called it "Holy Thursdays." Let's just say I had minimal success with that. 

A few weeks ago, I got this urge from inside that I should give up Facebook for Lent. I ignored it. Then some friends started saying they might do it too. I let the idea rise to the surface of my brain again. But I just didn't know. Finally, on Fat Tuesday, I just decided to go Facebookless or go home. I hastily wrote a "see ya after Easter" note on my 4th Frog Facebook page and my personal timeline. Then I handed Annie my laptop and told her to change my password. 

Wow. This is hard. It hasn't even been a week yet, but I feel so isolated. I can't tell you how many times I want to shoot a quick message to someone, only I can't because I don't have their email address or phone number. I'm just connected via Facebook.

I wonder how certain friends are doing and what new fun my group of blogging friends is up to. And my Catholic moms group is no longer just a keyboard away when I want to share a prayer request or tell them that Robbie decided for this Lent he is going to start listening to the homily.  

Of course, I could give up this giving up of Facebook. I could say it's too hard. To which my mother would reply "Do you think Jesus thought it was too hard to climb up on that cross and die for you?" But I am determined, at least for today, to persist. 

It's the community that I miss on Facebook. Ok, and some of the "which color M&M are you" Buzzfeed quizzes. I've attempted to find community among the tweeps on Twitter. I'm not new there, but it's just not Facebook. In my experience, tweeting is like farting in the wind...you never really know if anyone realized you did it (or tweeted it in this case) before the wind takes it away unless someone says something. I can count on one hand the number of times a Facebook post went unanswered or at least unliked. (So, I might be supposed to learn something about humility I suppose.)

My resolve is strong because Annie changed my password so I don't have a choice I truly believe this was a message from my heart. I consider this first week the detox phase. I've spent the time trying to fill the void with Twitter and Words with Friends, you know, just until the shakes pass. Now I feel myself ready to move into the purpose of this Lenten sacrifice, to seek what I'm supposed to find in this digital isolation. I have some books to read, some letters to write, and yes some praying to do. 

Can I make it five more weeks without Facebook? I'm going to try. But I'm pretty sure that on Easter morning the first thing I'm going to do after I snatch the Reese's eggs from my basket before Mike can get to them is to have Annie log me back into Facebook for my own resurrection of sorts. 

Lord knows what I'm going to give up for Lent this year

Lent begins pretty late this year; Ash Wednesday is March 5. That means I still have two weeks to decide what my Lenten sacrifice will be. It's something I've been giving a lot of thought to. The more I think, the longer my list of possible sacrifices gets -- there are just so many things in my life I can think of to do better!

The two items at the top of my list are both things that would definitely be sacrifices. The first is Facebook. I love Facebook for the social aspect, the community, the ease of keeping up with family and friends I don't see often. But Facebook is also a fancy word for "time suck." It seems that 10 minutes in Facebook time is actually 3 hours in real time. Last year (I think it was last year?) I gave up Facebook one day a week for the 6 weeks of Lent. I wasn't wildly successful, but it's a more realistic sacrifice than going cold turkey.

The second sacrifice I'm considering would also be a Lenten rerun. I'm seriously considering giving up my couch again. Not as in selling or donating it. But as in I wouldn't sit or lay down (it's quite possible that I just used the wrong form of the verb that means "to recline") on the couch. I park myself there, pull up the blanket and suddenly the sun has set and the clock has raced ahead to 11pm. This is a different couch than the one I gave up for Lent a few years ago. It's not as magically comfortable, but it still has that lullaby effect on me.

As I've considered my Lenten options (and yes, I know that adding something meaningful is also an option), I'm well aware that both my consumption of Diet Coke and my use of expletives are also elements of my daily life that could stand some attention. The first would be a denial of self in the flesh, giving up the artificially sweet nectar that at least 2 commenters will tell me is horrible for me, but is oh so bubbly and delicious. The second would be an exercise in self-restraint of temper and language. I really should clean up my effin' potty mouth.

We typically try to give up something as a family sacrifice. The Diet Coke (and all other soft drinks) will probably fall into that category. As for what I'm going to do for my personal sacrifice? I might just lay down on the bleepin' couch with my laptop and ask my Facebook friends what I should do.

A day for thanks

It's Memorial Day. The harbinger of summer. The day of cookouts and pool parties and afternoon movies when the mercury stretches too high. But what is it really?

It's a century-plus old observance, a day set aside to remember those men and women who died while serving in the U.S. armed forces. And in these post-9/11 days of patriotism, it's a day when we look around to anyone who has dedicated their lives to the service and defense of our country and we say "thank you."

So thank you to my Dad, who served in the Army in Vietnam.

Thank you to my father-in-law, who served stateside in the Navy.

Thank you to my uncles Jerry, Paul and Chris for their service.

Thank you to my grandfather who served on the USS Texas and was part of both the D-Day invasion and the securing of Iwo Jima. He was captured and spent time as a Japanese POW, an experience he still will not discuss.

Thank you to Mike's grandfather who was part of the team that prosecuted Nazi war criminals in the trials at Nuremberg.

But the thanks go beyond that.

Through friends I've met in recent years, I've come to understand that it takes a village to send a soldier to defend a country. It takes husbands and wives and children who are willing to part with their family member for months at a time so we can enjoy the freedoms our armed forces protect. Thank you.

It takes people like my uncle Howie, who volunteers at his local USO chapter, so our veterans feel appreciated and heard. Thank you.

What does it take to celebrate Memorial Day?

It takes each one of us to stop at some point in this day and be grateful for our freedoms and their sacrifices. To fly a flag outside of our home. To visit a military cemetery or a patriotic concert. Or to pick up the tab for a soldier and his or her family when we see them in a restaurant.

At the very least, it just takes a simple "thank you."

Sayonara sofa

Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday, the first day in the Christian season of Lent. Lent is a period of 40 days of fasting and sacrifice. As a lifelong Catholic, I've given up a variety of things during Lent. There's the mandated giving up of meat on Fridays. When I was a kid, giving up candy or sweets was a popular choice. Of course every kid tries the "I'm giving up homework (or chores)" thing at least once -- quickly corrected by a parent, teacher or priest. 

As an adult, I've given up cussing, sweets (still a tough one for me), Diet Coke. Last year I gave up internet Scrabble. That was harder than it should have been -- I told you, I'm a nerd. If you want a decent explanation of the theology behind Lenten sacrifices, visit Insomnimom's recent post.

Each year, in our house, we choose a family sacrifice and we each choose an individual sacrifice. Our family sacrifice this year is pop. We've been going through it like water and this is a good opportunity to try to break that expensive and not-so-healthy habit. I think we're also going to try the 40 bags in 40 days challenge.

My personal sacrifice this Lent will help make the 40 bag challenge happen. This year for Lent, I am giving up the couch. Specifically, the couch in what we call the FR2 (Family Room #2, which is actually the living room, but has the TV in it). I LOVE this couch. But the problem is that everytime I lay down on the couch -- does anyone actually sit on a couch? -- I enter some kind of time warp and before I know it 3 or 4 or 10 hours have gone by. 

This couch is soft. It's cozy. It seems to conform to the shape of my body. I blog from this couch. I catch up on my DVRd shows from this couch. I use this couch to play "Mommy's legs are broken." I sleep on this couch -- a lot. I love the way the little swirlies leave imprints in my skin when I wake from a nap or a night's sleep on the couch.

So this year for Lent, I'm giving it up. I'll still watch my favorite shows from one of the chairs in the FR2. But when the show is over, I'll get up and do something else -- like laundry or dishes or reading a book. If I watch those shows from the couch, I may as well kiss the rest of the night goodbye. 

So, sayonara sofa. Catch ya later, couch. I'll miss you. See you in six weeks.

Why do Catholics do that?

The other day in response to my "Givin' it up" entry, Momza asked me to explain the whole concept of Lent to her sweet little Mormon self. And thanks to the great homily by Fr. Paul on Ash Wednesday I can do just that!

Lent is the period of preparation before Easter. As Catholics, we're called to do 3 things during Lent:

1. Pray
2. Fast
3. Give alms

Each one of these gives us the opportunity to work on our relationships -- with God, with ourselves and with others.

Pray: We're called to do something new or extra in our prayer life to strengthen our relationship with God. For some people that might be getting up 10 minutes earlier to read the Bible. Some may choose to pray the rosary daily. For me, I'm going to bed earlier and using the time to read/reflect using the book Reliving the Passion (written by Mike's Godfather, Walt Wangerin). Praying for a parking spot up close the entrance of the grocery store does not count.

Fast: This is where the giving up comes in. Each person chooses for him/herself what to give up for Lent, although universally Catholics do not eat meat (beef, chicken, pork, veal) on Ash Wednesday or on Fridays during Lent. When I was a kid, we always gave up candy which made an Easter basket full of jelly beans, marshmallow Peeps and Reese's peanut butter eggs extra special.

There are two ideas behind fasting. One is self-discipline. The other is rooting out things in our character that aren't good -- something that hopefully continues after Easter. So giving up pop is self-discipline; giving up cussing is about rooting out a yucky part of my character.

A third idea is just a myth, though it seems pretty plausible based on my experience. That is that we give up things during Lent so that our mothers can lay the guilt on us when we cave and sneak a tiny bite of brownie even though we've given up chocolate.

Give alms: This is about relating with others. Doing acts of charity -- donating money, working at soup kitchen, volunteering at a nursing home -- helps keep "do unto others" fresh in our minds. This is the one piece of Lent that I'm struggling with. Not that I don't want to do it, but I don't know what to do and where to schedule it in. I'd like to find a service activity that our whole family can participate in, so I'm still looking.

Lent is over on Easter Sunday. If you count the days, there are actually 46 days in the season, not 40. Which is where the confusion over Sundays comes in. Liturgically, Sundays are a day of celebration, so many people consider them "Little Easters" and allow themselves whatever they have otherwise given up. Other people stay true to their Lenten promises daily until Easter. This is a point of controversy in my house. As is why you can eat eggs on Friday, but not chicken.

There is no punishment for breaking your Lenten promise. It's between you and God -- and your children if they hear you accidentally say "$hit I forgot to thaw the meat for dinner!" and they know you gave up cussing for Lent.

And that, Momza, in a nutshell is Lent. Thanks for asking!

Givin' it up

Since tomorrow is Ash Wednesday, we talked at dinner last night about what we're all giving up for Lent.

Annie and Charlie had obviously been thinking about it. When I asked what they thought they might give up, Charlie didn't even try the "I'm giving up homework" line. Instead, he said he planned to give up his iPod. Impressive -- not as impressive as if he'd said his Nintendo DS, but pretty sacrificial for him nonetheless.

For her part, Annie is choosing to give up saying "Oh my God!" She gets corrected when she says it, but the fact that she recognizes it as something she wants to change about herself made me feel good.

Much to Mike's chagrin, I suggested that as a family we give up pop (that's soda to you Cheeseheads). So we let the kids have caffeine free Diet Coke with dinner tonight. Usually they only have pop when we are eating out, so the sacrifice will be mostly mine and especially Mike's.

After all that was decided, Charlie issued a challenge. "I think you and Dad should give up cussing," he said.

A little embarrassed that we must cuss enough for him to suggest we give it up, Mike and I both agreed. I couldn't help but notice Charlie's victorious grin.

I'm also going to try to abide by "no screens" after 10pm -- no TV, no computer. That will probably be my biggest challenge, more difficult by far than not cussing, dammit.

I don't expect that I'll make it through Lent perfectly sacrificial and we're still having an internal debate as to whether or not Sundays "count." But I'm going to give it my best shot.

Wordless Wednesday: A Shout Out to My DH

My laptop lives, thanks to a hard drive transplant!
It's great to have a nerdy husband willing to sacrifice his computer so I can blog another day.

(P.S. -- You can buy the shirt at ThinkGeek.com. Click here for more Wordless Wednesday fun.)