Fuzzy Farted

Saturday Mr. Fuzz received his First Communion.

Are you familiar with First Communion Banners?  I wasn’t, but I learned.  I felt I needed to up the ante a little bit.  A crafty chick such as myself couldn’t buy a kit or keep it simple.  Fuzz designed the entire thing and did most of the glueing.  I was in charge of the dying and sewing.  Needless to say, Fuzzy had the only tie dye First Communion banner there on Saturday.  And no, it didn’t really say Fuzzy…photoshopped helped with that.

First Communion is one of those big moments in a Catholic’s life.  Fuzzy understood the importance.  He was nervous as I helped him get into his suit.  He was full of questions.  What if I trip?  Do I have to wear my glasses?  How will I know where to go?  Do you remember your First Communion? etc..etc..  He’s a worrier, my Fuzzy.

his widdle suit

I assured him that he wouldn’t trip (although he’s my kid, so it was  certainly possible) and that he should wear his glasses to avoid tripping.  I assured him I’d be sitting with him and would tell him where to go and when.  I also gave him some vague details about my First Communion because I honestly remember nothing but feeling like a princess in my dress.

I teared up as the processsion started and my little man made his way down the aisle, looking holier than was possible.  In sign language I asked him where his glasses were and if he wanted to fall!!  made him giggle a little…Fuzzy isn’t a fan of me signing to him in public, but it gets the job done!  I imagine he wouldn’t enjoy me standing in church to shout, “Fuzzy…put on your glasses before you fall!” .. not that I would ever ..um..do something like that.

Maybe one day I will learn how to use my big fancy camera.  First Communion was not that day.  Here’s my blurry, unfocused picture of Fuzz carrying the water.  Yay me and my superb photog skillzz.

The ceremony was super sweet.  I managed to not blubber like an idiot as I tend to do. 

See that bald-ish priest among the frenzied, post ceremony children?? 

I grew up with him, he rocks.  He baptised Fuzz, he was by my side the night my mother passed away, he visited Fuzz in the hospital the day he was born and prayed over his tiny, newborn head.  A group of us went to Europe with that priest in high school.  I spent a portion of every summer vacation smooshed into his station wagon with close friends heading towards a water park.  He makes fun of people, takes jabs at everyone, is down to Earth and sets the bar high for other clergy.  I’m so glad he’s in Fuzzy’s life.

Perhaps the best part of Fuzzy’s First Communion is that he was able to share it with his only first cousin, Squishy. (not that she is terribly squishy..it’s a Finding Nemo reference)

It’s neat to watch these two interact.  They are both only children ??..they are both an only child ??..they has gots no siblings.  They have that sibling-ish interaction with each other. They spent their first few years 800 miles apart, seeing each other only a few times a year.  Luckily, this year they attend the same school.  Fuzz hates to love her and loves to hate her.  🙂  They bicker, hug, giggle, share secrets, and enjoy life together. 

Squishy is my lovely Goddaughter.  I luvs her lots.  She lets me take unending photos of her, even after Fuzz gives up and turns to talk to friends.

I luvs her because she let me make a halo for her special day and she enjoyed wearing it….Fuzzy didn’t.

I luvs Squishy because she lets me hold her hand during mass and her fingers are long and dainty.  They are so different from the rough, short, mitts that belong to my dear Fuzzy.

I luvs Squishy because as soon as a camera is pointed in her direction her face contorts to this…which does not in any way resemble her face in person…but it’s sweet and I luvs it.

It was a great day.  I took a bazillion blurry pictures and someone missed the chance to capture Fuzzy with his Godmother, my Grandma, his Grandparents, his dad and all the other special people who shared Saturday with us. 😦  I’d love to have some unfocused pictures of my son with those folks, but I’ll survive.

Thanks Fuzzy & Squishy, for being you..for being good little Catholics, for going to mass with me Sunday and receiving your SECOND communion…and for giggling about it afterwards.

An extra thanks to Fuzzy…for trying to hold in a sneeze when the ceremony began and then inadvertently farting.  You lightened up the mood among our pew.

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About fuzzysmom

Mom to one 8 year old fondly refered to as Fuzzy. He's smart, funny, smelly, intelligent and the wind beneath my wings. Besides raising an amazing son I'm also quite crafty.
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