This past weekend was the first of the new School Year schedule (meaning we’re back to every other weekend as opposed to one entire week on, one week off). It was one of the best weekends we spent together, actually. I had taken Friday as a personal day in order to get some stuff done and then pick up the kids at 3:30pm from school. We came home and got changed and then headed over to the in-laws since Chantale’s Grandparents had come to town (driven down by their second son – Chantale’s dad is the first son). It was somewhat of a birthday supper as Grandpa turned 74 and we all had a nice evening.
Saturday morning I drove the kids to church as they were starting their cathechism(sp?) course. I still stand by what I’ve said in the past: I’m glad I grew up with Religion as part of our regular school class schedule. They’re going to have to go for these classes once a month for 2 and a half hours for 2 years. Only then can Melyssa take her First Communion and James his First Confirmation. When James took his First Communion, he only went to church for something like 2 months. This year, everything’s changed.
I’ll tell you what bothers me about this. For about the last 5 years now, when Chantale and I have taken the kids to church, they (and we) were ridiculed by thier mother and her boyfriend. Constantly. You see, “mother” never cared for church and never went or took the kids outside of when they were baptised. And as they grew older and she had to take a more “active” role by going to these classes in order for them to partake of the Sacraments, she did it grudgingly. The worst parts of this are that (a) the classes and actual sacraments are all done in french and (b) (and most importantly) the kids NEVER go to church outside of that. I believe once or twice they may have gone for Xmas but that’s it.
Thus, going forward, the kids exposure to church will still only come from Chantale and I and yet, for the next 2 years for James and 4 years for Melyssa, they’re going to have to attend french classes and re-learn what they already know in English. It’s hypocritical. And that’s what bothers me more than anything.
Ok, now that I’ve gotten THAT out of the way, let me continue on the good stuff 
The rest of the weekend was spent helping the kids with their homework, playing games with them, and just spending wonderful family moments. Today is James 10th Birthday. Thus, this weekend he was spoiled I gave him something like 10 new Archie digests on Friday. Saturday night I cooked him a meal he’s been dying for for months! Sunday morning we all went to Chez Cora’s for brunch (after spoiling him with gifts of clothes, books, and a Gabriel Morrissette original birthday drawing of The Boy). Sunday afternoon, my parents, Chantale’s parents, my brother, his girlfriend, my niece, and Chantale’s sister’s boyfriend came over to enjoy some snacks and Ice Cream Cake! It was a real nice time and it was especially funny seeing Casey playing with my niece who just started walking By the time everyone left, we were all happy and quite full
Let me say again, it was a really, really, really nice weekend.
Once they left at 7pm, I got changed, jumped on my bike, and rode around the island of N.D. Ile Perrot. When I came home, I took a relaxing hot bath by candelight. Afterwards, Chantale watched the Emmys while I uploaded more Comicopia covers and then, finally done with the day, I sat down to join her. And then, realizing the day was over… I broke down.
Come every September, I feel like I lose the kids all over again and I’m left to pick up the pieces of my little sand castle. Once the month moves on, I’m fine/better because I’m back in the flow. But it just doesn’t get any easier…