Loose lips sink ships

That's a phrase that I heard uttered around me often as a child.  I was notorious for going up to the person that I wasn't supposed to tell something and saying "I'm not going to tell you [fill in the blank with secret, here]."  And, of course, I always did this in front of the person who told me not to tell.  I was the queen of the blabber mouths.  In fact, I seriously doubt that I have ever actually kept a secret in my life, unless it was my own or Bryan's, in which case it's in the vault. Today I learned that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree*, and that Madeline is the new reigning blabber mouth.

Let me give you the backstory first so you can understand how Princess Blabber Mouth earned her new title. Back in February at Madeline's first reconciliation we had a little incident where my husband had what I felt was a 2 year old tantrum when I decided to go to confession. It consisted of Bryan trying to pull me out of line and telling me over and over that I didn't have to do this. I suspect he did this because he didn't want to go or feel obligated to go, too.  It's an incident that is still very vivid in my mind, and quite frankly, I don't think he's ever embarrassed me so much as he did that day (we knew the people who were behind us and our neighbors witnessed it from a nearby pew).  Apparently, Bryan was just incredibly shocked that I would willingly elect to go to confession.**   In all honesty, there are lots of things I'd rather do, but I'm not going to spend a lifetime avoiding it. His initial response was pretty bad, and he followed it up by walking around for the entire weekend shaking his head and saying "I can't believe you went to confession." and "Why?".  Talk about an awkward weekend. Nothing like being made to feel guilty for going to confession.  

So today I took Madeline over to the church for confession (I left Bryan and Ellie at home).  She had done a few things this week that I felt were confession worthy, so off we went.  I had been planning on going soon, so I figured I'd seize the moment. Why not?  I just wasn't planning to tell Bryan that I was going.  Why set myself up for more razzing?  I made it pretty clear to Madeline on the way over to the church and on the way home that me going to confession was not her Daddy's business simply because I didn't want a repeat of this past February.  Apparently, she didn't think she needed to listen to me (What else is new?).  Bryan wanted to know what her penance was, so she told him and then says "What was  your penance Mommy?".  Ugh! She realized immediately that she did what I asked her not to do and her question to me did not go unnoticed by Bryan.  So far I've managed to not get tormented by Bryan.  

I'm happy to say that for the first time since I converted back in 2000, I was able to leave confession and not feel all weird about it.***  I call that progress.

*Today is cliche day!

**That was his explanation.  You're welcome to buy it if you like.

***Don't ask how many times I've been over the span of 9 years.  Let's just say I wasn't on my  Catholic "A" game the first 8 years or so, and that the number is greater than 2.