How do I know...

...this child is mine?

Because he is a champion worrier just like his mother and his grandmother.

This morning as we were driving to school, Evan and I were talking about how fast time goes by. I told him he was going to be in first grade and playing soccer before he knew it.

He responds by telling me that he doesn't want to be in 2nd grade. Huh? Knowing this kid, his answer shouldn't have surprised me.

In our Catholic faith, the kids go through their First Reconciliation (confession) and First Communion when they are in 2nd grade. Evan attended the First Communion Mass this past spring. It led to a discussion of the sacraments and what he would be doing when he gets older.

Well, he is freaked out by the confession. Mind you, this conversation about confession happened back in April. I guess he's been harboring the anxiety for two months because that was his reason for not wanting to be in 2nd grade. He doesn't want to go to confession.

I could hardly tell him that I don't either! I blame it on being a convert, and I'm sticking to that story. I've just never gotten comfortable with confession. However, Evan is only going to hear that it is an important part of our faith. I fully believe that...I just don't like it.

The part that amazes and frustrates me is that Evan is only 5 and has two years before he needs to even consider confession. He worries. Just. Like. Me. It is exhausting watching him worry the way I do. It is somewhat of a lesson for me to chill out at times. I hate to see him be anxious over things that are so far in the future.

I wish I could tell him to be calm and cool like his dad. It wouldn't matter, though. He's my kid. He's my mom's grandkid. It's in his genes. Hopefully Hudson will escape the worry fate.


Evan and Grandma eating ice cream...and NOT worrying about things two years in advance.