Raising Little Angels is a monthly post about the struggles, joys, confusions, and questions that come with parenting. The tongue-in-cheek title refers to the fact that parenting often feels like anything but an angelic endeavor. After all, we don’t want little angels; we want little saints!
This is a guest post by Becky Needham, a friend of PsychedCatholic, and a personal friend. Becky is a wife and stay-at-home mom writing from Catonsville, MD. She and her husband Trevor have been married eight years and have three children, John Paul, Clare and Joshua. In between homeschooling and working in college campus ministry, she loves music, DIY home projects and enjoying the outdoors with her family.
My husband Trevor and I have been at this parenting thing for 
six years now. And even with all our know-how, a degree in Theology and Religious Education, teaching religion in our home school co-op, and three kids later, you’d THINK our own family prayer time would be a walk in the park by now. I can lead everyone ELSE’s kids in prayer just fine. Religion class, vacation Bible school, youth retreats – you name it, I’ve done it. But leading our kids in prayer has always been a bit more challenging, if not altogether unholy. Our six year old, the rule-follower, is fine. Angelic, really. Heck, he’s the one actually leading prayers half the time while Trev and I are distracted trying to get the other two kids to just sit down for five seconds. John Paul will be perfectly singing the Salve Regina while Joshua and Clare are launching themselves off the coffee table into the couch or the dog – or better yet, into one of us. Knees first. Unfortunately, the family activity that’s supposed to gather us together, calm our hearts and lead us all to bed in peace, instead leaves Trev and I shaking our heads and wondering if anything we’re doing is really worth it in the end. We sure don’t feel any holier ending the day yelling at everyone to just “Sit still and pray, jeepers!”