I can admit it. I'm sensitive.
My ability to filter information with any degree of accuracy or rationality might be compromised. I am weepy. I cry when I think of how blessed my marriage is and what a great team we are and five minutes later I cry, convinced that I am going to have to call in reinforcements when this fourth baby comes because our lives are entirely too overwhelming. I feel defensive when someone says I'm not big enough to be nine months pregnant and I feel like slapping someone when they say how big I am. Or when they guess that I'm carrying a boy/ girl because I'm carrying low/high or because my hips look wider/the same . I have heard it all, really. Like my midwife says, "It's amazing the things that people think they can or should say to pregnant people, as if by being pregnant it means one no longer has any feelings at all."
I cannot filter any longer. I am ready to stay in seclusion. Ready to hide for the next three plus weeks.
Okay, Nicole, snap out of it. Whine session over.
I have read the "Bradley Method", "Christ Centered Childbirth", "Spiritual Midwifery", and "The Bradley Method" again. I have note cards with scripture passages on them, juice boxes ready to be chilled and another pregnancy massage schedule for next week. I finally packed "the bag" last night and came to terms with the fact that, even though it won't, labor could begin any day now and with three small children, I can't really just leave it all to the last minute. For Steve's sake and mine.
I got some great advice from a friend of mine who has labored, at home, naturally, for hours, three times now. Are you ready? Here it is: "Stop thinking so much". In deciding that I am going to go "naturally" this time, I have developed this horrible habit about thinking all the time. Can I do it? Will people think I'm ridiculous? Will I be nice to those I love? Will I be a whiner? What if Steve doesn't pick up on that serious emotional signpost as I'm approaching transition and then we don't make it to the hospital and then I have the baby in the back of the van and then my memories of natural childbirth will involve blood-stained leather and awkwardly gawking pedestrians? See? It's just way too much thinking. I am going to stop now.
There. That feels better.
Realizing that I haven't blogged in about 11 days, I am feeling the need to talk about the Elizabeth Group that I kicked off two weekends ago and the beginning NFP training session that Steve and I went through. I say "Elizabeth Group" instead of Elizabeth Ministry because I just didn't like how limiting the Ministry was, only really being something for mothers who are childbearing. I really wanted something for all mothers of young children, a prayer group, a bible study. Our parish has SO many young families and we all need to be connecting and praying for and with each other. I am SO excited about it and our first meeting went off without a hitch! We'll meet the last Saturday of every month, praying for each other every day until then, when we'll have new prayer intentions. I wish I could convince every woman in my life to join a women's prayer group. It is just so wonderful to have the emotional support, fellowship, bonding and healing that is so important for women to have. We are not whiners (with the exception of me, see: earlier in this post). We are not husband-bashers. We are not gossipers. We are sisters. We are optimists. We are faithful. We are Hearts of our Homes.
The NFP training was great, too. After reading Christopher West's book, "The Good News about Sex and Marriage" over three years ago, I could not go on living in the bubble that I had. I could not pretend that it didn't matter any longer. Once you know and have heard the Truth, you can't "un-know" it. It's right there, in the biggest book of all. It's the difference between asking God to enter into your marriage at ALL times and telling him, "No thanks. You're not invited in here right now." NFP isn't natural contraception. Because it isn't contraception at all. At no time are you telling God that He's not welcome. Oh....I could talk about this for hours! I'll shelf it for now though. Suffice it to say, it'll definitely be more work to be keeping track, charting, and...GOD FORBID.....talking. To be communicating about our marriage, our humanity, our fertility and our family. On a regular basis. To be in it together. Truly together. An interesting tidbit? To paraphrase, "while there is little difference in the divorce rate between couples who say they are Catholic and couples who aren't, the divorce rate amongst couples who soley practice NFP is virtually non-existent." How about that.
Do you feel caught up with me yet?
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Monday, June 04, 2007
What does one say?
Me: Working out at Curves this morning, minding my own business.
Woman next to me on a machine: So....you don't work, right?
Me: Um....at home, all day. I have children.
I either sounded like the biggest village idiot that ever came around the pike or I sounded like the most judgmental shrew for insinuating that I work HARDER because I stay home. Will this ever get easier?
Woman next to me on a machine: So....you don't work, right?
Me: Um....at home, all day. I have children.
I either sounded like the biggest village idiot that ever came around the pike or I sounded like the most judgmental shrew for insinuating that I work HARDER because I stay home. Will this ever get easier?
Friday, May 25, 2007
Last Days.
This morning, we got up and made airplane and helicopter pancakes for our 5 year old and talked about big things to come. Today is Paxton's last day of 4 year old preschool. He will officially be a "kindergardener" at the end of the day. Can he be old enough? Can Steve and I be old enough?! This morning felt like the end of an era.
Yesterday, the Kindergarden teacher invited all the parents to come sit in on a regular class session during the morning period and then to come back with our future kindergardeners for about an hour and half in the afternoon for a meet and greet with their new teacher. I took advantage of both and was so grateful I was able to. I watched how she interacted with those sweet, almost 1st graders. How she commanded their attention without yelling, threatening, or demeaning. I watched as they read aloud to her, as they wrote STORY PROBLEMS for their math equations and as they helped each other. I watched as they began their Read Well program, sitting on the floor. Then, outside, a siren could be heard. Immediately, they put their books down and began making the sign of the cross. They waited for the teacher to begin her prayer for anyone who may be injured. She concluded her prayer and they resumed with their lesson. These kids knew that that's what we do. They began before the teacher. Can I ask you how cool that is? How cool is it to have your children be educated in an environment where the teacher gets to utter the phrase "In Jesus' name" and not have to worry about prosecution?
We are so blessed to have what we have in this parish and this parish school.
Ella gets to spend the weekend with my mom, having some one on one quality "Noni time" and we get to play around here with the boys--who are looking more and more alike every day and making me realize just what a family we have become. Paxton helps buckle the baby into his seat, Ella watches out for him when they're in the front yard. Paxton helped Ella put her shoes on yesterday and when Ella locked herself in the bathroom on accident it was Paxton who began to look very worried and started to cry a little. When Shepherd heard Ella banging on the door and crying, he started crying. Can you guess who wanted to cry then?
Families who cry together stay together. We are a family. We talk. We laugh. We sing. We cry. We play. We grow.
I have a feeling that when I go pick Paxton up I might cry. On this, his last day, it feels like a beginning. Beginnings are beautiful things. And so, sometimes, are endings.
Yesterday, the Kindergarden teacher invited all the parents to come sit in on a regular class session during the morning period and then to come back with our future kindergardeners for about an hour and half in the afternoon for a meet and greet with their new teacher. I took advantage of both and was so grateful I was able to. I watched how she interacted with those sweet, almost 1st graders. How she commanded their attention without yelling, threatening, or demeaning. I watched as they read aloud to her, as they wrote STORY PROBLEMS for their math equations and as they helped each other. I watched as they began their Read Well program, sitting on the floor. Then, outside, a siren could be heard. Immediately, they put their books down and began making the sign of the cross. They waited for the teacher to begin her prayer for anyone who may be injured. She concluded her prayer and they resumed with their lesson. These kids knew that that's what we do. They began before the teacher. Can I ask you how cool that is? How cool is it to have your children be educated in an environment where the teacher gets to utter the phrase "In Jesus' name" and not have to worry about prosecution?
We are so blessed to have what we have in this parish and this parish school.
Ella gets to spend the weekend with my mom, having some one on one quality "Noni time" and we get to play around here with the boys--who are looking more and more alike every day and making me realize just what a family we have become. Paxton helps buckle the baby into his seat, Ella watches out for him when they're in the front yard. Paxton helped Ella put her shoes on yesterday and when Ella locked herself in the bathroom on accident it was Paxton who began to look very worried and started to cry a little. When Shepherd heard Ella banging on the door and crying, he started crying. Can you guess who wanted to cry then?
Families who cry together stay together. We are a family. We talk. We laugh. We sing. We cry. We play. We grow.
I have a feeling that when I go pick Paxton up I might cry. On this, his last day, it feels like a beginning. Beginnings are beautiful things. And so, sometimes, are endings.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Holy articulation, Batman!
Ella: Mom, do you want a bite of my sandwich?
Me: No thanks, honey.
Ella: But, mom, it's wonderfully delicious!
I have a feeling that 3 year old preschool is going to seem wonderfully unchallenging.
Me: No thanks, honey.
Ella: But, mom, it's wonderfully delicious!
I have a feeling that 3 year old preschool is going to seem wonderfully unchallenging.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Gratitude.
I could tell how many people were praying for me this weekend. I thank you and them. It was completely evident that I was not alone.
The retreat was amazing, just the right balance of structured time and "homework" and time to just be. Time to just reflect and pray and let the Holy Spirit use me, breath for me, speak to me. It's amazing the calmness and peace you can feel when you take away external distractions. It's amazing where you see God. Where you feel His majesty and undying love. I am not worthy.
I also realized just how much women need other women, specifically mothers. We are so hard on ourselves. We doubt ourselves. We can isolate ourselves and punish ourselves. We can live in fear and torment. We can get so fixated on what others might think of our motherhood that we forget that it's God whom we are doing this for. It is He who will strengthen us, comfort us.
John 15:11
I have spoken these things to you so that my joy might be in you and your joy might be complete.
Labor has been on my mind a lot latey. (With just over 5 weeks to go, how could it not?!) I decided about four months ago that I was going to offer my pain to God, as redemptive suffering. There are a few people in my life who live with pain all the time. They suffer a cross that is heavier than I would want to bear. Having had three inductions, and three epidurals, I have yet to endure the entirety of labor pain. I want it to be different this time. I want to trust God's timing. He has a birthday for this baby. He has a plan. Three times in a row now I haven't been willing and/or able to stick it out and trust His plan in the timing or in the ability to survive the pain.
II Timothy 1:7
For God did not give us the spirit of fear, but a spirit of power, of love, and of self control.
John 14:27
Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.
His peace is much different than the peace given by worldly things. We may not be able to overcome the fear of birth, but God is perfect and it is His perfect love that can cast out fear for us. We have to let Him take it from us when we are unable. Fear is from Satan who wants to torment us. (Christ Centered Childbirth).
1 John 4:18
There is no fear in love. But perfect love casts out all fear because fear has to do with torment.
I am reading "Christ Centered Childbirth" and "The Bradley Method". I have been laughed at and questioned. "What's the big deal?", "You're crazy", "Why would you do that to yourself?" have all been comments I have received. I do not feel judged. I feel sad for these women. I feel how much they are not understanding my purpose. I do not believe pain relief medications are inherently evil. I have three beautiful children to prove that. I do not believe that people who seek relief are weak. I do not believe that it makes you "less of a woman or mother" if you get an epidural. I do not believe that it means you are lacking in faith.
I do believe that I, personally, can offer this pain up and pull Christ into it with me. I do believe that I have been fearfully and wonderfully made and what a better opportunity for me to prove to God just how much I love and trust Him. I do believe that I can use this as a prayer of supplication for me, for my family, for my children, for those I love who have to endure pain on a regular basis. And even, dare I say, a prayer of gratitude. Gratitude for a body that allows me to bring forth life. That allows me to carry a baby. Because there are so many women who cry themselves to sleep at night because they can't.
Because of original sin, childbirth is supposed to be painful. Because of Jesus' love we are supposed to seek His grace and comfort.
The retreat was amazing, just the right balance of structured time and "homework" and time to just be. Time to just reflect and pray and let the Holy Spirit use me, breath for me, speak to me. It's amazing the calmness and peace you can feel when you take away external distractions. It's amazing where you see God. Where you feel His majesty and undying love. I am not worthy.
I also realized just how much women need other women, specifically mothers. We are so hard on ourselves. We doubt ourselves. We can isolate ourselves and punish ourselves. We can live in fear and torment. We can get so fixated on what others might think of our motherhood that we forget that it's God whom we are doing this for. It is He who will strengthen us, comfort us.
John 15:11
I have spoken these things to you so that my joy might be in you and your joy might be complete.
Labor has been on my mind a lot latey. (With just over 5 weeks to go, how could it not?!) I decided about four months ago that I was going to offer my pain to God, as redemptive suffering. There are a few people in my life who live with pain all the time. They suffer a cross that is heavier than I would want to bear. Having had three inductions, and three epidurals, I have yet to endure the entirety of labor pain. I want it to be different this time. I want to trust God's timing. He has a birthday for this baby. He has a plan. Three times in a row now I haven't been willing and/or able to stick it out and trust His plan in the timing or in the ability to survive the pain.
II Timothy 1:7
For God did not give us the spirit of fear, but a spirit of power, of love, and of self control.
John 14:27
Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.
His peace is much different than the peace given by worldly things. We may not be able to overcome the fear of birth, but God is perfect and it is His perfect love that can cast out fear for us. We have to let Him take it from us when we are unable. Fear is from Satan who wants to torment us. (Christ Centered Childbirth).
1 John 4:18
There is no fear in love. But perfect love casts out all fear because fear has to do with torment.
I am reading "Christ Centered Childbirth" and "The Bradley Method". I have been laughed at and questioned. "What's the big deal?", "You're crazy", "Why would you do that to yourself?" have all been comments I have received. I do not feel judged. I feel sad for these women. I feel how much they are not understanding my purpose. I do not believe pain relief medications are inherently evil. I have three beautiful children to prove that. I do not believe that people who seek relief are weak. I do not believe that it makes you "less of a woman or mother" if you get an epidural. I do not believe that it means you are lacking in faith.
I do believe that I, personally, can offer this pain up and pull Christ into it with me. I do believe that I have been fearfully and wonderfully made and what a better opportunity for me to prove to God just how much I love and trust Him. I do believe that I can use this as a prayer of supplication for me, for my family, for my children, for those I love who have to endure pain on a regular basis. And even, dare I say, a prayer of gratitude. Gratitude for a body that allows me to bring forth life. That allows me to carry a baby. Because there are so many women who cry themselves to sleep at night because they can't.
Because of original sin, childbirth is supposed to be painful. Because of Jesus' love we are supposed to seek His grace and comfort.
Friday, May 18, 2007
Retreat.
Literally.
I am retreating. I am heading up this weekend to what is sure to be the most peaceful and calming retreat. We have a Marian theme this year and I will be surrounded by friends in faith--the best kind.
I am so grateful to have the blogger friends that I do, the kind who give support and encouragement all the while inspiring me to look deeper and to see farther down the road. I am grateful for family and extended family who understand my vocation and make me feel appreciated. I am grateful for my children who make me laugh deeper, make me cry harder, and make my life immeasurably richer than it ever could have been otherwise.
I am grateful for my huband. I am grateful for his unwavering strength, calmness, and gentle love. I cannot imagine what I would do if I were gone all day, working, and then came home to a wife who just seemed to fall into a puddle of either tears or anger. I cannot imagine myself being so gentle and compassionate in the face of personal weakness. God truly blessed me with Steve. He really did.
I'll check in after I get back and, until then, know that I am thanking all of your for your support and love.
I am retreating. I am heading up this weekend to what is sure to be the most peaceful and calming retreat. We have a Marian theme this year and I will be surrounded by friends in faith--the best kind.
I am so grateful to have the blogger friends that I do, the kind who give support and encouragement all the while inspiring me to look deeper and to see farther down the road. I am grateful for family and extended family who understand my vocation and make me feel appreciated. I am grateful for my children who make me laugh deeper, make me cry harder, and make my life immeasurably richer than it ever could have been otherwise.
I am grateful for my huband. I am grateful for his unwavering strength, calmness, and gentle love. I cannot imagine what I would do if I were gone all day, working, and then came home to a wife who just seemed to fall into a puddle of either tears or anger. I cannot imagine myself being so gentle and compassionate in the face of personal weakness. God truly blessed me with Steve. He really did.
I'll check in after I get back and, until then, know that I am thanking all of your for your support and love.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
The grass is always greener at the cemetary.
Today was exhausting, without glory or gratification. It was an everything-seems-to-be-going-wrong kind of day. Nothing measurable or tangible. Little things, really.
Regardless, I found myself sitting out on our front lawn, at 5pm, crying. Just crying. Life just felt like too much. My sweet Paxton and Ella were oblivious to my crying as they happily played in the grass. Or so I thought. Ella came up to me and, as I tried quickly to wipe my tears said, "Mommy? Why do you have raindrops on your face?" I didn't answer. Out came more tears. Paxton said, " Oh Mommy, don't cry, we won't run away." Oh, the sweetness and innocence.
Shepherd is at a very difficult age for me right now. An age that I remember strongly disliking with both Paxton and Ella. An age where one must repeat "no" --repeat everything in fact, multiple times. An age where there is a communication breakdown, an utter disregard and misunderstanding of authority. An age where the idea of sharing is as foreign as multiplication or taxes.
So, I just cried.
And then? Then I found myself on a long drive after Steve got home from work. A long, quiet drive. For two hours. I decided that I was hungry. I bought some california rolls and headed to a place where I knew it would be quiet, no one would bother me or ask me questions or directions. A place where no one would speak. The cemetary. It was beautiful. And quiet.
After enjoying my solitude and self-pity it was time to go. I did not realize it was time to go until I had this thought after looking around at all the headstones: "Oh *sigh*, they all have it SO easy."
Yeah, time to go.
I called my mom to get some comic relief and tell her my pitiful thought. Her reply was eloquent, beautiful, understanding,and gentle. It went something like this:
"Oh, Honey! Get the hell out of the cemetary!"
Regardless, I found myself sitting out on our front lawn, at 5pm, crying. Just crying. Life just felt like too much. My sweet Paxton and Ella were oblivious to my crying as they happily played in the grass. Or so I thought. Ella came up to me and, as I tried quickly to wipe my tears said, "Mommy? Why do you have raindrops on your face?" I didn't answer. Out came more tears. Paxton said, " Oh Mommy, don't cry, we won't run away." Oh, the sweetness and innocence.
Shepherd is at a very difficult age for me right now. An age that I remember strongly disliking with both Paxton and Ella. An age where one must repeat "no" --repeat everything in fact, multiple times. An age where there is a communication breakdown, an utter disregard and misunderstanding of authority. An age where the idea of sharing is as foreign as multiplication or taxes.
So, I just cried.
And then? Then I found myself on a long drive after Steve got home from work. A long, quiet drive. For two hours. I decided that I was hungry. I bought some california rolls and headed to a place where I knew it would be quiet, no one would bother me or ask me questions or directions. A place where no one would speak. The cemetary. It was beautiful. And quiet.
After enjoying my solitude and self-pity it was time to go. I did not realize it was time to go until I had this thought after looking around at all the headstones: "Oh *sigh*, they all have it SO easy."
Yeah, time to go.
I called my mom to get some comic relief and tell her my pitiful thought. Her reply was eloquent, beautiful, understanding,and gentle. It went something like this:
"Oh, Honey! Get the hell out of the cemetary!"
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Pool party.
This post is a little overdue. Mother's Day was amazing, complete with lemon curd crepes and fresh strawberries in bed in the morning, Mass and babies baptisms, a lovely afternoon backyard brunch with friends, visits with Grandma Great and Grandma, and a quiet backyard dinner with barbequed lobster, prawns and steamed asaparagus. I am so blessed. My husband is amazing and I know how lucky I am that he really tried so hard to make the day relaxing and special--all for me. Thank you, love. The kids were so good and I really felt just how lucky and blessed we are, that God gave us to each other. It was probably the best Mother's Day yet.
The Mother/Daughter Tea was a hit as well. Steve got home at midnight on Friday, got up early the next morning and helped (okay did it FOR me) to find all my china, servingware, and glassware for the table from our huge storage unit. It was so much fun to go up to the gym and see all of these tables, each carefully decorated with each hostesses personal style. One was Betty Boop themed, another western themed, complete with bandanas for napkins and cowboy boots for teacups, and another was decorated with ALL lace. My mom said that she could have picked mine out without even recognizing my china. I'm a calalilly, tulip, and lots of white sort of girl. Clean, simple, pretty. Or so I think. Everyone was dressed up. At one table, all the ladies and girls had big, fun hats on! I loved that idea. It was so nice to have my mom there, sitting next to me and Miss Ella. Some great friends and their little girls came. There was even entertainment for us. A Barbershop Quartet, clogging 3 and 4 year olds (who were rather scantily clad and overly made-up. Don't get me started), and even drawings and prizes. I had heard about, but never been to one of these "Teas". I will definitely be hosting again next year.
I know I keep saying it, but I am starting to feel a lot more tired. Wah. I know. I'm sorry. The good news is that there are lots of things I can do about it and I have been--including going on longer walks, trying to carve out rest time during the day, and letting myself just relax more when I can. In fact, I have what's sure to be a very restful, prayerful retreat coming up this weekend that I am SO looking forward to. It's about three hours north of here, almost to the Canadian border. The drive alone will be so nice to just meditate and say a few rosaries for specific intentions.
Today we are heading to some friends house for a "pool party". You know, the kind of pool that's about 5 feet in diameter, heavy plastic and has fish stickers on the bottom? It'll be so nice to let the kids splash around and even nice to just let us pregnant mommies rest, talk and swell up in this 90 degree heat. We will snack on cold, crisp cucumber slices, grapes and sip lemonade. We will slather on sunscreen and discuss luxuries of the past. Belts. Pants with zippers. Red wine. Sleep. Our ankles.
The Mother/Daughter Tea was a hit as well. Steve got home at midnight on Friday, got up early the next morning and helped (okay did it FOR me) to find all my china, servingware, and glassware for the table from our huge storage unit. It was so much fun to go up to the gym and see all of these tables, each carefully decorated with each hostesses personal style. One was Betty Boop themed, another western themed, complete with bandanas for napkins and cowboy boots for teacups, and another was decorated with ALL lace. My mom said that she could have picked mine out without even recognizing my china. I'm a calalilly, tulip, and lots of white sort of girl. Clean, simple, pretty. Or so I think. Everyone was dressed up. At one table, all the ladies and girls had big, fun hats on! I loved that idea. It was so nice to have my mom there, sitting next to me and Miss Ella. Some great friends and their little girls came. There was even entertainment for us. A Barbershop Quartet, clogging 3 and 4 year olds (who were rather scantily clad and overly made-up. Don't get me started), and even drawings and prizes. I had heard about, but never been to one of these "Teas". I will definitely be hosting again next year.
I know I keep saying it, but I am starting to feel a lot more tired. Wah. I know. I'm sorry. The good news is that there are lots of things I can do about it and I have been--including going on longer walks, trying to carve out rest time during the day, and letting myself just relax more when I can. In fact, I have what's sure to be a very restful, prayerful retreat coming up this weekend that I am SO looking forward to. It's about three hours north of here, almost to the Canadian border. The drive alone will be so nice to just meditate and say a few rosaries for specific intentions.
Today we are heading to some friends house for a "pool party". You know, the kind of pool that's about 5 feet in diameter, heavy plastic and has fish stickers on the bottom? It'll be so nice to let the kids splash around and even nice to just let us pregnant mommies rest, talk and swell up in this 90 degree heat. We will snack on cold, crisp cucumber slices, grapes and sip lemonade. We will slather on sunscreen and discuss luxuries of the past. Belts. Pants with zippers. Red wine. Sleep. Our ankles.
Friday, May 11, 2007
Mother/ Daughter Tea.
I am trying to gear up for the Mother/Daughter Tea tomorrow. I am hosting a table and three girlfriends, their young daughters, my daughter and my mom will be there. I am so excited about being able to do it this year, having my own little girl to take.
The part I am NOT excited about? Going to our storage unit bright and early in the morning with Steve, who gets home tonight about midnight, and rummaging through trying to find my china, my linens, my glassware, and my flatware. Um, I think I know where they *might* be. If I can't find them in time to head up to the school gym and set the table? Well, I suppose disposable can feel just as special. Um, NOT.
I didn't really anticipate needing my china until we were at least in our new house. How wrong I was. I better just bring it back home after the Tea tomorrow. After all, Steve's birthday is coming up in June and we'll be having another baby in early July. Both will require some china, right? Er....maybe just beer. Yeah. Nothing says "Happy Birthday" or "Welcome home, New Baby!" like beer.
I am tired. This might be a longer 7 weeks than I expected. Is it possible that they could have my due date wrong? By, say, a MONTH?
The part I am NOT excited about? Going to our storage unit bright and early in the morning with Steve, who gets home tonight about midnight, and rummaging through trying to find my china, my linens, my glassware, and my flatware. Um, I think I know where they *might* be. If I can't find them in time to head up to the school gym and set the table? Well, I suppose disposable can feel just as special. Um, NOT.
I didn't really anticipate needing my china until we were at least in our new house. How wrong I was. I better just bring it back home after the Tea tomorrow. After all, Steve's birthday is coming up in June and we'll be having another baby in early July. Both will require some china, right? Er....maybe just beer. Yeah. Nothing says "Happy Birthday" or "Welcome home, New Baby!" like beer.
I am tired. This might be a longer 7 weeks than I expected. Is it possible that they could have my due date wrong? By, say, a MONTH?
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Pink Popcorn.
We're back!
We (Paxton and Ella and I) got back last night and were soon thereafter greeted by Grandma and Grandpa delivering baby Shepherd. Um, he grew. He was HUGE! We missed him so much and it was so sweet to see how excited he was to be around his big brother and sister again.
It was sad to leave Daddy in San Diego and even sadder to come home to the empty refridgerator that would need to be filled and the mountain of dirty clothes that would need to be laundered. But trudge on we did. I picked up the dog, washed the clothes, got Paxton to preschool and back, had photos developed for the kids, and returned phone calls and emails. 41 to be exact. Man, we're popular people when we're unavailable!
We had an amazing time. Arguably one of the best family vacations yet. We went to SeaWorld, Legoland, Coronado, the Beach, The Mission Basilica, ate wonderful sushi (even the kids), swam in the pool, and laughed a lot. We drank water, applied sunscreen, and then drank more water. I walked slowly. Very slowly. Much like a sumo wrestler or a three toed sloth. That, my friends, must be a combination of late pregnancy and heat. It reminded me of all the Bahamians we met on our honeymoon in Nassau. They, too, walked very slowly. They were dressed up, looking wonderful and professional, and walking VERY SLOWLY. I am assuming there could be a potential chafing issue if one is not careful in hot weather like that. I think someone said that San Diego was having some kind of heat wave. It was awesome. Beautiful. And hot.
Any parent knows that no family vacation is complete without someone vomiting. This time? The lucky girl? That'd be Ella. She was vomiting throughout one night and one day and fought a fever so high ( we didn't have a thermometer to tell us just how high) that she started hallucinating. She was completely confused, hot, and laughing about pink popcorn. Pink popcorn. It was 2 a.m, and our 3 year old was naked, jumping up and down on the bed, reaching for pink popcorn.
After one final episode of vomiting, at the Basilica very near a beautiful life-size statue of the Pieta no less, she recovered beautifully. She was required to follow our strict guidelines for the remainder of the trip. Hat. Sunscreen. Purchased insulated toddler cup from Target. Gatorade and water. Lots of it. Little walking. Ella and I were a pair. Me, waddling through legoland, and her, sucking down grape gatorade like it was going out of style. Both of us peeing about every ten minutes for two very different reasons. The boys had a great time on rollercoasters and Miss Ella and I had some great talks. Afterall, what can two people do who are either too short or too pregnant to enjoy most of the fun rides? We did have a great time though. We reallly did.
It's good to be home. There really is no place like it. Although, maybe I'm calling it home too quickly. Upon entering every elevator on our trip, Ella needed to say to anyone who was already on or about to get on, " Hi. I'm Ella. I'm three." To which they would usually reply, " Hi, Ella."
But one lovely woman said, "Hi, Ella! You're three? That's cool! Where do you live, Ella?"
Ella: Um....in a rental.
Down by the river?
We (Paxton and Ella and I) got back last night and were soon thereafter greeted by Grandma and Grandpa delivering baby Shepherd. Um, he grew. He was HUGE! We missed him so much and it was so sweet to see how excited he was to be around his big brother and sister again.
It was sad to leave Daddy in San Diego and even sadder to come home to the empty refridgerator that would need to be filled and the mountain of dirty clothes that would need to be laundered. But trudge on we did. I picked up the dog, washed the clothes, got Paxton to preschool and back, had photos developed for the kids, and returned phone calls and emails. 41 to be exact. Man, we're popular people when we're unavailable!
We had an amazing time. Arguably one of the best family vacations yet. We went to SeaWorld, Legoland, Coronado, the Beach, The Mission Basilica, ate wonderful sushi (even the kids), swam in the pool, and laughed a lot. We drank water, applied sunscreen, and then drank more water. I walked slowly. Very slowly. Much like a sumo wrestler or a three toed sloth. That, my friends, must be a combination of late pregnancy and heat. It reminded me of all the Bahamians we met on our honeymoon in Nassau. They, too, walked very slowly. They were dressed up, looking wonderful and professional, and walking VERY SLOWLY. I am assuming there could be a potential chafing issue if one is not careful in hot weather like that. I think someone said that San Diego was having some kind of heat wave. It was awesome. Beautiful. And hot.
Any parent knows that no family vacation is complete without someone vomiting. This time? The lucky girl? That'd be Ella. She was vomiting throughout one night and one day and fought a fever so high ( we didn't have a thermometer to tell us just how high) that she started hallucinating. She was completely confused, hot, and laughing about pink popcorn. Pink popcorn. It was 2 a.m, and our 3 year old was naked, jumping up and down on the bed, reaching for pink popcorn.
After one final episode of vomiting, at the Basilica very near a beautiful life-size statue of the Pieta no less, she recovered beautifully. She was required to follow our strict guidelines for the remainder of the trip. Hat. Sunscreen. Purchased insulated toddler cup from Target. Gatorade and water. Lots of it. Little walking. Ella and I were a pair. Me, waddling through legoland, and her, sucking down grape gatorade like it was going out of style. Both of us peeing about every ten minutes for two very different reasons. The boys had a great time on rollercoasters and Miss Ella and I had some great talks. Afterall, what can two people do who are either too short or too pregnant to enjoy most of the fun rides? We did have a great time though. We reallly did.
It's good to be home. There really is no place like it. Although, maybe I'm calling it home too quickly. Upon entering every elevator on our trip, Ella needed to say to anyone who was already on or about to get on, " Hi. I'm Ella. I'm three." To which they would usually reply, " Hi, Ella."
But one lovely woman said, "Hi, Ella! You're three? That's cool! Where do you live, Ella?"
Ella: Um....in a rental.
Down by the river?
Friday, May 04, 2007
San Diego or bust!
We're off to San Diego this morning. Bags have been packed, camera is charged, backpacks are sufficiently overloaded with activity books, kindergarten workbooks (Thank you, Grandma) and Sesame Street Uno cards (Thank you, Noni), and a doctor's note and prenatal records for Mommy. Apparently, 8 month pregnant women make airlines nervous. I should just tell the lady at the ticket counter, "Look, my huband says he refuses to EVER have a baby in California. So, let's not worry". Somehow, I don't think she'll be comforted.
Seaworld, Legoland, the Zoo, Pacific Beach, The Mission and SOME GREAT SUSHI! await us. Oh, and a maternity swimsuit. That'll be fun. What you wear in San Diego stays in San Diego.
Steve will be staying down an extra four days for a conference for work. The poor guy is going to have to suck it up, enjoy all that sunshine, those great restaurants AND "sleep in". He'll be in my prayers. It's gonna be rough.
Thank you, Grandma for keeping, entertaining, and loving on baby Shepherd. He will no doubt have MUCH more fun with you than he would being dragged to and fro, skipping naps and riding in rented strollers. Five days on 'the farm' with slides, tractors, and kitties is just what the doctor ordered for this 16 month old!
This little vacation is long overdue for this family! We'll check in after we're home.
Seaworld, Legoland, the Zoo, Pacific Beach, The Mission and SOME GREAT SUSHI! await us. Oh, and a maternity swimsuit. That'll be fun. What you wear in San Diego stays in San Diego.
Steve will be staying down an extra four days for a conference for work. The poor guy is going to have to suck it up, enjoy all that sunshine, those great restaurants AND "sleep in". He'll be in my prayers. It's gonna be rough.
Thank you, Grandma for keeping, entertaining, and loving on baby Shepherd. He will no doubt have MUCH more fun with you than he would being dragged to and fro, skipping naps and riding in rented strollers. Five days on 'the farm' with slides, tractors, and kitties is just what the doctor ordered for this 16 month old!
This little vacation is long overdue for this family! We'll check in after we're home.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
How can there possibly be a reward big enough?
I was on the phone in our bedroom. I heard lots of silence. I walked out to find the boys playing cooperatively on the floor (which is really saying something that a five year old and a sixteen month old are playing together at all!). I walked further, into the kitchen. And there, right before my eyes, was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen: Ella. UNLOADING THE DISHWASHER. Seriously. I don't know what came over my precious three year old daughter but, whatever it was, I can only pray it never stops coming over her.
Let's just say, that girl? She scored some major stickers. Big stickers. With kitties on them. She can wear them while she eats the chocolate I got her for dinner and while she rides the pony I am going to pick up for her tonight.
Let's just say, that girl? She scored some major stickers. Big stickers. With kitties on them. She can wear them while she eats the chocolate I got her for dinner and while she rides the pony I am going to pick up for her tonight.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
St. Joseph and his beautiful wife.
Today is the feast day of St. Joseph the Worker, my husband's chosen confirmation name and his patron saint, my step-father's name, and the patron saint of fathers everywhere.
"He is that just man, that wise and loyal servant, whom you placed at the head of your family. With a husband's love he cherished Mary, the virgin Mother of God. With fatherly care he watched over Jesus Christ your son, conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit."
Today is also May Day, May 1st, the Crowning of Mary. May is Mary's month and that of mothers everywhere. Taken from the Magnificat - " The Blessed Virgin comes to generate in us the union that she experiences with the Son in her womb. Only this puts to flight all our crippling individualism and insularity. In Mary's face, in her voice, in her gaze we find what we have been lookng for amidst all the trying and frustrating moments of our life."
Afterall, it is through Our Mother that we have the Greatest Gift of all; Christ the Healer, the Good Shepherd, the Peacemaker.
Marian adoration and devotion are of great comfort to me these days. I feel so blessed to be able to call her Mother and to flee to Her for help when I am at my wits end, when I feel like I have no more love or patience to give at the end of the day, when all I want to do is whine about my aching back or my ever-swelling cumbersome belly. The Mother of all mothers.
John 19:26-27
When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, "Dear woman, here is your son," and to the disciple, "Here is your mother." From that time on, this disciple took her into his home.
"He is that just man, that wise and loyal servant, whom you placed at the head of your family. With a husband's love he cherished Mary, the virgin Mother of God. With fatherly care he watched over Jesus Christ your son, conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit."
Today is also May Day, May 1st, the Crowning of Mary. May is Mary's month and that of mothers everywhere. Taken from the Magnificat - " The Blessed Virgin comes to generate in us the union that she experiences with the Son in her womb. Only this puts to flight all our crippling individualism and insularity. In Mary's face, in her voice, in her gaze we find what we have been lookng for amidst all the trying and frustrating moments of our life."
Afterall, it is through Our Mother that we have the Greatest Gift of all; Christ the Healer, the Good Shepherd, the Peacemaker.
Marian adoration and devotion are of great comfort to me these days. I feel so blessed to be able to call her Mother and to flee to Her for help when I am at my wits end, when I feel like I have no more love or patience to give at the end of the day, when all I want to do is whine about my aching back or my ever-swelling cumbersome belly. The Mother of all mothers.
John 19:26-27
When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, "Dear woman, here is your son," and to the disciple, "Here is your mother." From that time on, this disciple took her into his home.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Vocabulary.
After Michelle's AWESOME post, with which I couldn't agree more, I had to share:
Me: Ella, you can wear these shoes if you'd like.
Ella: I love these ones! I just wore them yesterlater!
Huh? Looks like Daddy and I have more work to do.
Me: Ella, you can wear these shoes if you'd like.
Ella: I love these ones! I just wore them yesterlater!
Huh? Looks like Daddy and I have more work to do.
Friday, April 27, 2007
Minor Adujstments.
Okay, I'm back. I have missed you all! Have you noticed my absence? Steve even asked me the other day if, in fact, I still had a blog.
So here it is. We are officially and completely into our *cute* rental. I say cute because it's quaint, charming, quirky, and utterly too small. So, it seems that *cute* is a suitable word.
So far, we have learned some things since having lived here over a week now:
1) It is altogether possible to wash your hands in the sink, sit on the toilet AND wash your feet in the bathtub all at the same time.
2) In order that the toilet may flush all the way, one simply has to hold the handle down for a count of 4. 1...2...3....4. Not 3. Not 5. 3 is not long enough. 5 is too long. 4 guarantees a perfect flush almost every time.
3) Living in town is louder. One may hear two trains, mating cats, barking dogs, sirens, cars backfiring and church bells ringing all in a matter of one hour; specifically, the hour between 3am and 4am.
4) It is not possible to fit our entire family in our kitchen at the same time. Seriously. I mean, I guess it's possible, but certainly not productive or comfortable in any way. With about 4ft x 5ft in which to work, I have become adept at washing the dishes, putting them away, answering the phone, and doing some light sweeping all in one full rotation. If you want to know where I keep my cutting boards, they're under the sink near the cleaning supplies. And where do I keep my pots and pans? Well..some under the stove of course but, yes, I do use that all-too-convenient space IN the stove as well.
5) You always have an audience. With neighbors just over 10 feet to our left and our right and a porch-sitting chain smoker across the street, we never get lonely. NEVER.
6) If you go to plug in a lamp and sparks fly out of the socket, don't panic. Don't continue to try to plug in the lamp either.
7) Smoke alarms placed RIGHT above the stove are a bad idea. Whoever came up with this particular *safety* precaution should be fired. In the name of sleeping toddlers and pregnant mothers who cook multiple times a day, this person should be shot. This house is 700 square feet on each level. There are about NINE smoke alarms.
8) One does not necessarily NEED faucet handles on the outdoor water spickets. Those are for high maintenence sorts of people. No, all one really needs is a metal stump and a wrench. And here I was, always thinking we needed handles.
9) If, before you move into a new place, there has been a *cute* spider's nest full of tiny baby spiders about to hatch, placed by some loving mother spider right at the bottom of the stairs, those babies WILL indeed find their way to the top of the stairs and out the back door. Don't worry. They will. It might just take a week or so. Just be willing to THANK GOD EVERY DAY that they are so tiny.
10) Children are happy in dirt. They love getting to count when they flush, the closeness of the colorful neighbors, the funny spiders going out the door, the *cute* kitchen (which spells very easy access to the fridge any time of day or night), and the sounds of town living. They don't care about sparks, or small bathrooms, or faucet handles. They are happy and content to be wherever our family is. And so am I.
Steve and I moved on Saturday and Sunday, laid sod in the entire backyard on Monday, moved more and cleaned more on Tuesday and Wednesday, had visits from Noni, Popi, some family friends, and Grandma, signed closing papers last night, and Steve just moved into his new office downtown (aka about three blocks away right on the main strip of town) this morning.
Tonight is Friday Night Family Movie and Pizza Night. I couldn't be more thrilled. Wizard of Oz, Mary Poppins and a little cheese and olive pizza are in our near future. This family is blessed beyond words and constantly given things to make us laugh and to make us grow stronger. We just have to remember that last part. Trials which are meant to strengthen us.
God bless and keep you all as well.
So here it is. We are officially and completely into our *cute* rental. I say cute because it's quaint, charming, quirky, and utterly too small. So, it seems that *cute* is a suitable word.
So far, we have learned some things since having lived here over a week now:
1) It is altogether possible to wash your hands in the sink, sit on the toilet AND wash your feet in the bathtub all at the same time.
2) In order that the toilet may flush all the way, one simply has to hold the handle down for a count of 4. 1...2...3....4. Not 3. Not 5. 3 is not long enough. 5 is too long. 4 guarantees a perfect flush almost every time.
3) Living in town is louder. One may hear two trains, mating cats, barking dogs, sirens, cars backfiring and church bells ringing all in a matter of one hour; specifically, the hour between 3am and 4am.
4) It is not possible to fit our entire family in our kitchen at the same time. Seriously. I mean, I guess it's possible, but certainly not productive or comfortable in any way. With about 4ft x 5ft in which to work, I have become adept at washing the dishes, putting them away, answering the phone, and doing some light sweeping all in one full rotation. If you want to know where I keep my cutting boards, they're under the sink near the cleaning supplies. And where do I keep my pots and pans? Well..some under the stove of course but, yes, I do use that all-too-convenient space IN the stove as well.
5) You always have an audience. With neighbors just over 10 feet to our left and our right and a porch-sitting chain smoker across the street, we never get lonely. NEVER.
6) If you go to plug in a lamp and sparks fly out of the socket, don't panic. Don't continue to try to plug in the lamp either.
7) Smoke alarms placed RIGHT above the stove are a bad idea. Whoever came up with this particular *safety* precaution should be fired. In the name of sleeping toddlers and pregnant mothers who cook multiple times a day, this person should be shot. This house is 700 square feet on each level. There are about NINE smoke alarms.
8) One does not necessarily NEED faucet handles on the outdoor water spickets. Those are for high maintenence sorts of people. No, all one really needs is a metal stump and a wrench. And here I was, always thinking we needed handles.
9) If, before you move into a new place, there has been a *cute* spider's nest full of tiny baby spiders about to hatch, placed by some loving mother spider right at the bottom of the stairs, those babies WILL indeed find their way to the top of the stairs and out the back door. Don't worry. They will. It might just take a week or so. Just be willing to THANK GOD EVERY DAY that they are so tiny.
10) Children are happy in dirt. They love getting to count when they flush, the closeness of the colorful neighbors, the funny spiders going out the door, the *cute* kitchen (which spells very easy access to the fridge any time of day or night), and the sounds of town living. They don't care about sparks, or small bathrooms, or faucet handles. They are happy and content to be wherever our family is. And so am I.
Steve and I moved on Saturday and Sunday, laid sod in the entire backyard on Monday, moved more and cleaned more on Tuesday and Wednesday, had visits from Noni, Popi, some family friends, and Grandma, signed closing papers last night, and Steve just moved into his new office downtown (aka about three blocks away right on the main strip of town) this morning.
Tonight is Friday Night Family Movie and Pizza Night. I couldn't be more thrilled. Wizard of Oz, Mary Poppins and a little cheese and olive pizza are in our near future. This family is blessed beyond words and constantly given things to make us laugh and to make us grow stronger. We just have to remember that last part. Trials which are meant to strengthen us.
God bless and keep you all as well.
Friday, April 13, 2007
Remind me...
why I don't let my children play with empty boxes more often again?
This might be the cheapest entertainment known to man.
This might be the cheapest entertainment known to man.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
I know, I know.
It's been far too long since I've made a decent blog entry. It's only going to get worse.
We are MOVING! Yay. So...this means that I might be out of commission for the next week or more. When I come back, I am sure I'll have lots of stories to share about the five of us, our big dog, my midsized pregnant belly, our little rental and the inevitable humor that will have to accompany us.
Many blessings to you, friends!
We are MOVING! Yay. So...this means that I might be out of commission for the next week or more. When I come back, I am sure I'll have lots of stories to share about the five of us, our big dog, my midsized pregnant belly, our little rental and the inevitable humor that will have to accompany us.
Many blessings to you, friends!
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Today, we wait.
Luke 24:1-12
But at daybreak on the first day of the week they took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb; but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. While they were puzzling over this, behold, two men in dazzling garments appeared to them. They were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground. They said to them, "Why do you seek the living one among the dead? He is not here, but he has been raised. Remember what he said to you while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners and be crucified, and rise on the third day." And they remembered his words. Then they returned from the tomb and announced all these things to the eleven and to all the others. The women were Mary Magdalene, Joanna, and Mary the mother of James; the others who accompanied them also told this to the apostles, but their story seemed like nonsense and they did not believe them. But Peter got up and ran to the tomb, bent down, and saw the burial cloths alone; then he went home amazed at what had happened.
We wait in silence, or as much as there can be in a house full of spirit-filled children, and enjoy this one last fast today. A fast from too much busy-ness, too much chatter, too much bickering, from too much indulgence. We wait and we fast because we shall feast very soon.
My faith journey has taken me deeper than I ever knew existed and yet, I can say in complete confidence, I am still just scraping the surface. I cannot believe that just three short years ago I had left our beautifully rich faith. I did not know. I had not appreciated. I wanted Jesus, oh yes, but just not that hard, painful cross that always seems to go along.
I am grateful to be back and I am grateful to see that cross again. Yes, grateful. I am grateful for the indescribably gifts and graces it has brought to my life--to share an ever-deepening faith WITH my husband and my children. I am grateful God didn't give up on me. Not for one moment. He kept putting people in my life who would challenge my reasons for "taking a step back" and "trying out other things". I could name them, but there really is no need. All along, it was just Christ speaking to me through them. Christ saying, "Nicole, my child, I love you. Now turn around and face me. Stop running."
He'll always find a way to talk to our hearts. Always.
Today, I am going to listen and wait. Though we dyed Easter eggs, stocked plenty of goodies for tomorrow and have been inundated with lots of fun bunny dot-to-dots, we will still wait. Easter, I have learned, is about so much more than pretty dresses and egg hunts. That is just the beginning--an opening. A gift. The "gift" is that, through our children's excitement about the "bunny", the "eggs" and the "candy", we are able to relate it all back for them to the One True Gift. That which is Him.
We will wait. We wait for the hands and arms softer than even the softest bunny's fur, the Life that is even greater, brighter, and whiter than those eggs, and sweetness greater than any candy we have ever tasted.
Holy Saturday, indeed.
But at daybreak on the first day of the week they took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb; but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. While they were puzzling over this, behold, two men in dazzling garments appeared to them. They were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground. They said to them, "Why do you seek the living one among the dead? He is not here, but he has been raised. Remember what he said to you while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners and be crucified, and rise on the third day." And they remembered his words. Then they returned from the tomb and announced all these things to the eleven and to all the others. The women were Mary Magdalene, Joanna, and Mary the mother of James; the others who accompanied them also told this to the apostles, but their story seemed like nonsense and they did not believe them. But Peter got up and ran to the tomb, bent down, and saw the burial cloths alone; then he went home amazed at what had happened.
We wait in silence, or as much as there can be in a house full of spirit-filled children, and enjoy this one last fast today. A fast from too much busy-ness, too much chatter, too much bickering, from too much indulgence. We wait and we fast because we shall feast very soon.
My faith journey has taken me deeper than I ever knew existed and yet, I can say in complete confidence, I am still just scraping the surface. I cannot believe that just three short years ago I had left our beautifully rich faith. I did not know. I had not appreciated. I wanted Jesus, oh yes, but just not that hard, painful cross that always seems to go along.
I am grateful to be back and I am grateful to see that cross again. Yes, grateful. I am grateful for the indescribably gifts and graces it has brought to my life--to share an ever-deepening faith WITH my husband and my children. I am grateful God didn't give up on me. Not for one moment. He kept putting people in my life who would challenge my reasons for "taking a step back" and "trying out other things". I could name them, but there really is no need. All along, it was just Christ speaking to me through them. Christ saying, "Nicole, my child, I love you. Now turn around and face me. Stop running."
He'll always find a way to talk to our hearts. Always.
Today, I am going to listen and wait. Though we dyed Easter eggs, stocked plenty of goodies for tomorrow and have been inundated with lots of fun bunny dot-to-dots, we will still wait. Easter, I have learned, is about so much more than pretty dresses and egg hunts. That is just the beginning--an opening. A gift. The "gift" is that, through our children's excitement about the "bunny", the "eggs" and the "candy", we are able to relate it all back for them to the One True Gift. That which is Him.
We will wait. We wait for the hands and arms softer than even the softest bunny's fur, the Life that is even greater, brighter, and whiter than those eggs, and sweetness greater than any candy we have ever tasted.
Holy Saturday, indeed.
Sunday, April 01, 2007
How to truly embrace the "Passion" of Passion Sunday.
This day is interchangeably called Palm Sunday or Passion Sunday. Passion, referring to Christ's passion, or suffering.
How did we experience The Passion today--aside from the profound Gospel and blessed palms?
As we're entering the church for Mass: Casual Acquaintance walks up to Paxton, who tells her that it's his birthday tomorrow. He's going to be five. Then he tells her that he is going to start wiping his own bottom tomorrow. Lesson one: Humility.
At Chuck E. Cheese for his birthday party this afternoon: Well, that's all. Just enduring that whole place for longer than 5 minutes feels like "passion". Lesson two: Mortification
At home: walking into house and realizing that you left it a disaster this morning before church and you still have to clean up AND pack for the trip to Seattle you're taking tomorrow for a couple days. But first? First you really should call and thank all those sweet and precious people who endured "the passion" at Chuck E. Cheese, all for your son's 5th birthday-- at least giving back verbally. Lesson three: Charity.
Ah, what a day. Paxton is growing faster than I thought he would, faster than I hoped he would. But I am also so amazed by him almost every day that I'll take the sad with the amazing. I love him so much, my five-year-old, hand-holding, McQueen- drawing, airplane and train-loving, spelling and vowel-discerning, taller-than-most-every-other-child-his-age, bottom-wiping boy.
How did we experience The Passion today--aside from the profound Gospel and blessed palms?
As we're entering the church for Mass: Casual Acquaintance walks up to Paxton, who tells her that it's his birthday tomorrow. He's going to be five. Then he tells her that he is going to start wiping his own bottom tomorrow. Lesson one: Humility.
At Chuck E. Cheese for his birthday party this afternoon: Well, that's all. Just enduring that whole place for longer than 5 minutes feels like "passion". Lesson two: Mortification
At home: walking into house and realizing that you left it a disaster this morning before church and you still have to clean up AND pack for the trip to Seattle you're taking tomorrow for a couple days. But first? First you really should call and thank all those sweet and precious people who endured "the passion" at Chuck E. Cheese, all for your son's 5th birthday-- at least giving back verbally. Lesson three: Charity.
Ah, what a day. Paxton is growing faster than I thought he would, faster than I hoped he would. But I am also so amazed by him almost every day that I'll take the sad with the amazing. I love him so much, my five-year-old, hand-holding, McQueen- drawing, airplane and train-loving, spelling and vowel-discerning, taller-than-most-every-other-child-his-age, bottom-wiping boy.
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