Buddhist Catholic Contemplative Evangelical General Christian Hindu Jewish Latter-day Saint Muslim New Visions Progressive Christian

Beliefs

Topics

Columnists

Resource Library

Research Tools

Video

Podcasts

Thought Readers

Faith In Media Tracker

Newsletters

Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In Subscription Support

Follow Patheos

Sick Pilgrim

Home
Catholic
A Back to School Prayer for the Weirdos (and their weirdo parents)

A Back to School Prayer for the Weirdos (and their weirdo parents)

Last updated on: August 31, 2016 at 3:40 pm by Jessica Mesman Griffith

A Back to School Prayer for the Weirdos (and their weirdo parents) 2016-08-31T15:40:17-05:00 Jessica Mesman Griffith

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

I wrote this essay six years ago, before my daughter was diagnosed with autism and my google searches for “toddler anxiety” and “what am I doing wrong as a mother” came to an end (mostly). But as I prepare to launch my ten-year-old into a new school for fifth grade, I dug it out of the archives because it still gets to the heart of my contortions of fear and worry and guilt and pride for my children. I was also inspired by this heart-string-tugging story making the rounds today.

Pray with me, will you pilgrims? For every child who doesn’t fit in, and for every person who can show them a little bit of patience and kindness, and for every parent who is worrying that they’ve done everything wrong.

***

All good parents play Krampus with their kids, right? (vintage photo via the amazing Tumblr: Black and WTF)

My four-year-old sailed off the deep end sometime around last Monday. Her teacher stopped me at the door after I dropped her off (late, again, we couldn’t find the only shoes that would do). I could already hear her crying upstairs—screaming, actually, and pounding her foot. “It’s the squirrel song,” the teacher said. Say no more, I thought; the squirrel song gets her every time.

“Have you had a chance to talk to her pediatrician about her anxiety?” she asked. She’s been fidgeting, rocking back and forth, zoning out, “picking fights,” dissolving into a puddle of tears at the slightest provocation. I assured her I’d call the pediatrician.

It’ll be months before we can get her in to see the specialist he recommends, so I did what modern mothers do: After the children went to sleep, I googled “anxiety in toddlers,” which led me to a page listing the symptoms of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder in children: a tendency toward perfectionism and stubbornness; disproportionate reactions of anger and guilt; a tendency to be disruptive; a hyper-active fantasy life; excessive religiosity.

Does this describe my daughter? Pretty much. But it’s an even more accurate description of me.

Reading this I remembered the first time I submitted a piece of writing about faith for a workshop. Someone wrote in the margins: this doesn’t sound like religion; it sounds like obsessive-compulsive disorder. I guess they’d been reading the DSM-IV.

I was a very religious child, even though my parents were not. I was also anxious, prone to bouts of melancholy, and had at least two panic attacks so intense they left my face numb. My fantasy life was so hyper-active that I convinced myself I was in a serious relationship with Martin Gore from Depeche Mode (he’s the little blonde one who favored leather skirts and dog collars). I was devastated when I found out he was married with children. I sat on my best friend’s bathroom floor and cried. I knew it was crazy, but it had all seemed so real. It was scary.

I still have the ability and the desire to get completely lost in a world of my own creation, for better or worse. I’m a writer.

Most of the time I can convince myself that it doesn’t bother me that my children might be different or even weird. I think it’s cool that they’re being raised by writers, sharing meals and conversations with philosophers, poets, and artists every day. I was, perhaps, more okay with it when I thought her little brother would be the mellow, unflappable child—when I thought my daughter was a (much beloved) fluke. But now he seems every bit as frenetic and demanding as his sister, and I—prone to disproportionate reactions—am wondering if he’s headed down the same road, and if our problem is one of nature or nurture.

In short, I’m wondering if I’m making my kids crazy.

Because sometimes, when I pick up my daughter from her little pre-school, I stand at the fence and watch her on the playground. Usually she’s alone, riding aimlessly on a tricycle, or talking to the teachers on one of the benches while the other girls play house on the jungle gym and the boys destroy stuff in the sandbox. Any sort of pride I might take in my life choices is easily trumped by this image of my beloved child, alone and misunderstood.

Times like these, art be damned, I don’t want my kids to be weird. Or crazy. I want them to be happy.

My daughter befriended a German composer in residence at the artists’ community where I work, and he sent her, as a gift upon his departure, the book Frederick by Leo Lionni. In it, a family of mice is busy preparing for winter, gathering corn and nuts, wheat and straw. All except Frederick. All he does is daydream, stare at the colors in the meadow, study the light of the sun. The other mice gather food; he collects words.

When they’ve eaten through winter’s stores and exhausted their conversations, it’s Frederick who saves them from the cold and drear. Frederick, who studied the sun, can help them to imagine again its warmth. He’s an artist.

In dark moments, when practicality has run its course, it’s the artist who brings hope. What a wonderful gift. It was intended for her, but it came just in time for me.

My children may not grow up to be artists–I wouldn’t even wish it on them–but I hope that growing up among them will be more blessing than curse. Their parents may not always attend to the practical. We live hand to mouth. We run late. But we also study the sun and the meadows; we collect words.

Personal Essay

Spiritual Autobiography

Previous Post

August 29, 2016

3 Things That Every Convert/Revert Wants Cradles to Know (No, This Ain't a Cosmo Article)

Next Post

September 7, 2016 "For the [Not Quite] Dead"

Browse Our Archives

Select a Category Advent Approaching Mystery art Book Reviews Catholic Ghost Story Catholicism community Confession Current Events Dark Devotional Deconstruction Deconstruction Fellow Travelers I Want To Believe Interview Laudato Si Lent Mary Matthew's Letters Movie Reviews Music Reviews Our Charism Personal Essay Pilgrims Pope Francis Popular Piety Prayer Publishing Richard Beck Saints Satan Sheed and Ward Sick Pilgrim Charism Sick Pilgrim Chats Sick Pilgrim Events Sick Pilgrim Travelin' Medicine Show Sick Pilgrimage to The West Sick Pilgrims Small Joys Spiritual Autobiography Spooky Files of Ave Maria Magazine Spooky October Spooky Pilgrim Spooky Pilgrimage Strange Journey The Inklings Things Keeping Us Going Trying to Say God TV Reviews Uncategorized women in the Catholic Church Wonder Podcast Write the Vision

Select a Month February 2022 January 2022 December 2021 November 2021 October 2021 September 2021 August 2021 July 2021 June 2021 May 2021 April 2021 March 2021 February 2021 January 2021 December 2020 April 2020 March 2020 February 2020 January 2020 December 2019 October 2019 September 2019 July 2019 June 2019 May 2019 April 2019 March 2019 February 2019 January 2019 December 2018 November 2018 October 2018 September 2018 August 2018 July 2018 June 2018 May 2018 April 2018 March 2018 February 2018 January 2018 December 2017 November 2017 October 2017 September 2017 August 2017 July 2017 June 2017 May 2017 April 2017 March 2017 February 2017 January 2017 December 2016 November 2016 October 2016 September 2016 August 2016 July 2016 June 2016 May 2016 April 2016 March 2016 February 2016 January 2016 December 2015

TAKE THE

Religious Wisdom Quiz

On which mountain did Moses receive the Ten Commandments?

Select your answer to see how you score.

Mount Sinai Mount Hermon Mount Carmel Mount Ararat