So, typically for Lent, I give up something that starts with the letter “c”.

Does it make sense?  No.  Does it have anything to do with religion?  Not in the slightest.  But for the first few years I observed Lent, I typically picked things that started with C.  The first year it was carbs.. JesusGod, was that hard.  It was, by far, the hardest Lent ever.  That was followed by chocolate.. and then caffeine.. and then craziness.. and I may have skipped Lent last year.  I don’t really remember.

Lent completely snuck up on me this year.  I didn’t realize that it was Mardi Gras, so the fact that the day after was Ash Wednesday was completely lost on me.  So I’ve been trying to figure out this past week what I’m going to give up.

Stephanie, in all of her Presbyterian wisdom, offers the suggestion (every year) that I do what she does and take up something instead of giving up something.  But part of me feels that Lent should be a sacrifice that leaves you incomplete, if not for a short time, so that you have to find a way to complete yourself before Easter.  I clearly have some Catholic guilt issues.

Last night, as I rushed from my house to dress rehearsal, leaving a happy baby with an exhausted husband, I wondered what I should offer up for Lent this year.  Not long after I got to the theatre, I got this in a text message:

I miss the momma.

And it hit me. 

Committment. 

So, this year, I’m both giving up and taking on.  I am giving up overcommitting to projects outside of my family.  My priorities right now should reside with my husband and new baby first, and then projects will be discussed and only selective few allowed in.  I am taking on committing to being a better wife and mother, by actually participating in my household instead of only sleeping there.

I know that sounds ambitious, especially for a Virgo who strives to be an overacheiver in everything she does until she cannot do anymore, but how can you look at that face and not want to be there and comfort him?  On top of that, I miss Book Club.  I miss going to shows.  I miss afternoon naps.  I think I will feel far more complete at the end of Lent than I ever will feel incomplete by doing this.

I swear, this child cannot grow up and want to play sports.