The First Confession
I joined a church because I was desperate for childcare.
Yes, I like to start things abruptly. And yes, that confession is 100% true. I’ll explain that in a moment.
But I want to be clear. If you are looking for an expert on parenting, this is not the blog for you. If you want a pediatrician or a child psychologist or a pediatric naturopath, this is not the blog for you.
If, however, you, like me, are a flawed parent who sometimes recognizes that children are not angels, this might be an amusing roller coaster to jump right on. If you turn the other direction when your kid eats dirt, even better. And if you have kids who unabashedly prefer Kraft macaroni and cheese no matter how often you or your friends might try to serve them Annie’s – you’re my new best friend!
Now, regarding the church issue…
When my now six-year-old son James was born, at Waldo County Hospital in Belfast, I didn’t know many adults in town. My first year in Belfast, I worked at the Game Loft, an after-school program that utilizes non-electronic games (including role playing games). It’s particularly appealing to youth on the spectrum and youth who can’t find a place to fit in. I loved it there. I fit in there. When my position there concluded, I moved on to working remotely for a nonprofit in Lewiston. I continued to volunteer some for the Game Loft, and some for BCOPE, Belfast’s alternative high school program.
Ultimately, because of this, all or most of my friends had the word “teen” as part of their respective ages. When I had James, they weren’t, as a group, especially well-equipped to be supportive, especially in the rough first few months. Why hadn’t I gotten close to many adults? Who knows?
James’ first year of life was really difficult for me, and for him. I lived (and continue to live) far away from family. On purpose. I knew nothing about pregnancy, or babies, or anything. Yes, I knew how they were made. Duh. I waited until I was 31 to have my first, and chastity has never been my strong suit, so obviously, I understood the logistics. How they’re made is wicked easy. How they – and the parents – survive to adulthood…that’s another story.
Warren had to commute to Bangor during this time in James’ life. I was often so desperate that I let the Jehovah’s Witnesses come inside and tell me about their religion, just so that someone else would hold the screaming baby. I couldn’t figure out how to make him stop. Before you ask – no, I didn’t head down that route. I like Christmas and birthdays.
The summer that James turned one, I still hadn’t made many grown up friends. I did have one close friend who helped me out by watching James twice a week during his first six months – that’s how we got to know each other. But she had a life, and, at the time, three kids of her own (four, now). I couldn’t just be her leech.
Somehow I discovered that the Window Dressers program was looking for volunteers. Window Dressers is an organization that makes window inserts that add insulation, conserving heat. The organization provides, at low cost, a number of these inserts to low-income families, thus helping the environment while also helping struggling people survive Maine winters. I was impressed, for sure, but I was even more impressed with what else I discovered: there would be free childcare for anyone who volunteered to help create the inserts.
Yes. I volunteered so I could pawn my kid off on someone else.
I was there for four hours, working with what I think of as industrial saran wrap. It was wonderful. I got to talk to adults. I got to hear about people’s lives. The whole setup happened in the sanctuary of the Unitarian Universalist Church in Belfast, and I noticed an advertisement for a “New to UU” class, one night a week. With childcare. I signed up immediately. Adults! There would be adults! With kids! Who maybe knew what they were doing!
That’s right. I joined a religion to survive parenthood. I became a Unitarian Universalist so that my first kid and I both would live through his early childhood.