So far, I've mastered giving up ideals like equality and hope and understanding, and replaced them with fear, guilt and hate. I'm on my way, and you can be, too!
To become a Catholic parent, it helps to fill your home with lots of creepy Catholic things. Start your parenting with something simple and sweet, a nighttime prayer and a couple rounds of "Jesus Loves Me." A picture book with a fuzzy, teddy-bear cover also helps to bond your tiny, unscrupulous, idol worshiper to God and the Church.
Once they love Jesus, it's good to make sure the children have a visible reminder of their faith:
See that guy right there? He died a bloody, rotten death while his mommy cried so that you could be forgiven for grabbing that toy from your brother. If you really believe you deserve your cookies tonight, you may have them, but I want you to really think about it.
What's that you ask? What is that necklace hanging from the crucifix? That's only the Rosary, dear heathen child, something good people pray every day. The carvings on the stones are shamrocks, a symbol of our Irish heritage, which we celebrate because our ancestors nearly starved to death when a blight killed the potato crops, and then our great-great-great grandparents had to sail on a big, big boat to the United States where you now beg for McDonald's before you've finished your organic hot chocolate from Starbucks. How would you feel if you only had potatoes to eat? Hm? What about if the potatoes didn't grow? Still hungry? You want apple dippers or french fried potatoes?
Next, you'll want to reinforce those feelings of guilt and low self worth with a few reminders of people who are much better than your children. For example:
St. Francis of the Swiffer Wet Jet for Wood
Patron Saint of Hiding the Dead Spiders in the Corner the Vacuum Can't Reach
St. Francis of Assisi is the Patron Saint of Animals and the Environment. He died of an eye disease and stigmata, which is a condition in which really good people - really, only the best people - get bleeding, pus-filled wounds just like Jesus had when He was nailed by his wrists and ankles to a large wooden cross. He died while singing a Psalm.
I'm sorry you have the sniffles, honey, but don't you think you should recycle your orange juice carton? After all, St. Francis always loved the environment, even as he was dying a bloody, painful death while singing praise to Our Lord and Savior. You make your own decision, sweetie.
Another good example is St. Jude.
I'm sure Jesus wants whatever makes you happy.
After the saints, introduce something sweet and cherubic: Angels! Everyone loves them, and they are available year round in the form of pins, wall hangings, bumper stickers and sweatshirts your Grandma buys God-knows-where.
Angels are special winged creatures of God who bring to our lives the music of Heaven and protect us in our times of need. Think of them as God's winged warriors.
Once upon a time, one angel fucked with God, sweetie, and things didn't go so well for that angel.
According to the Book of Charlie Daniels, that angel became the Devil, who went down to Georgia, where Johnny showed the devil how it was done. We are never to enter into conversation with the devil, but fiddle competitions are allowable.
All of the above will give you a good start as a Catholic parent, but there are some handy tools on the market to help keep your household Godly, guilt-ridden, and righteous. Maybe Baptists think it's idol-worship, but we Catholics say, "Phooey." Whatever keeps your children miserable is good enough for us!
My favorite is the Elf on the Shelf. He's a little Santa's elf who sits in your house year-round and watches your children and lets Santa know if your children have been naughty or nice.
Some holidays, especially those involving candy, can be difficult for children. It's important to motivate them not to become gluttons or thieves. Giving in to temptation is exactly like nailing Christ to a cross.
Place the elf in a place where children could get in trouble. For example, the candy-filled dining room.
The devil left you unattended candy.
No one can see you.
One little cherry-vanilla Nib wouldn't hurt anyone, would it? Would it be exactly like jabbing the hanging Jesus in the side with a sharp stick? Maybe, maybe not.
In a situation like this, a kid sure could use something to help make the right decision.
Something that appeals to a child's natural evil - the greed, the gluttony that overrules the desire for candy.
Christmas presents.
Not a saint or an angel or a son of God, but pretty fucking scary nonetheless.
By now, you're well on your way to being an effective Catholic parent. Any day now, you'll start working off those minutes in purgatory. God speed.
