Thursday thoughts

I've found it rather refreshing to be away from the facebook thing over the past week.  Though it wasn't specifically asked of me by Fr. Eric, I decided that a fast from something I spent a lot of time looking at was a good idea.  I do miss the interaction with my friends.  Facebook connects Mamas like me, who are home all day to school and raise up our families, with the outside world.  The added factor of living a fair distance from the main action means that I frequently feel isolated and lonesome.  I know there are other Mamas out there who will know just what I mean.  Although I am surrounded by my babies, I long for the conversation and company of other adult people, mostly other women.  I need the connection of hearts and souls that comes with the bond between women.

It's more challenging than one might think.  Trading child-minding with other Mamas is a good idea, but it falls more difficult for me.  My anxiety sometimes makes it difficult for me to prepare to leave the house, even for things I ought to look forward to.  And if it's a flare day for my fibro pain or my back, leaving the house can sometimes prove nearly impossible.  Sounds like a lame couple of excuses, I know, but it's what's put before me.

I continue to pray for so many friends.  I also continue to pray about just how much I can truly write here.  There are things which have happened that need to be thought out carefully and processed fully in my heart, but they are things which affect other people.  It's not always up to me what I can put down in my little space here.  Please pray for me in this.

Moving along...

I keep neglecting my blog.  I know this, and there's been no help for it save for me to put some strict limitations on other things that have kept me occupied in ways I perhaps should not be.  Prudence, self control, and the other good virtues in which I seem to be lacking these days, have nudged my shoulder.
This is a good thing.

Interestingly, though, I seem to have lost the list of blogs I've been following all along--I'm not sure why this has happened.  But I wonder if it's something tied to my inability to comment on any blogs as well.  There has been a lot I've wanted to say in response to some excellent entries over the past few months, and every time I have attempted to do so, I'm hit with the "choose an account"--and when I do, nothing happens.  It's as though I've no account and am thus unable to sign in at all.

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Home schooling is going better these days.  My little ones are loving their binders, which I've outfitted with plastic page protectors covering pages of letters, numbers, shapes, names, and words for them to trace or color or circle or outline.  My Squash is reading, however haltingly, the short stories which begin with Dick and Jane and Sally and Spot and Puff and Tim...and of course, Mother and Father.  It's what all of my big kids learned with, and Squash seems to really enjoy himself when he realizes he can recognize a word from a previous page.  I love this stage!!

Even Cuppie is enjoying tracing the things in her book, and naming the shapes and colors, and learning the letters in her name, and counting things all over the place.  I was thrilled to find some math manipulatives in the dollar section at Target, and scooped up a bunch of different colored foam shapes for sorting, counting, adding, subtracting, multiplying, dividing, making patterns and so on.  Cuppie and Squash have loved using them.

And Reepicheep, as my last big kid at home, has been working on things like sketching, investigating botany, reading like a fiend, knitting, and writing stories.  I know she'll learn whatever she needs to know as she needs to know it, so it's been a blessing just seeing her gravitate toward things which truly interest her.

We're also working very hard toward temperance.  I think it's the virtue left behind sometimes; it's almost as if it's expected for a "tween" to be sassy and short-tempered.  What a perfect time to work even harder at holding one's tongue, carefully thinking before speaking and acting, and always with charity as our goal!  It's definitely not without challenges, and I've found myself having to grit my teeth mightily more than once.  We'll get there, though.

My little Gingersnap grows at a pace.  She has begun to get beyond even squunching (which some people call creeping, but we've always said "squunching") to nearly crawling.  She's been saying "Mama" quite intentionally for weeks now, generally when she is not in my arms and wants to be.  And I have on my hands my very first ever baby who fits into the size clothing which manufacturers deem age-appropriate: at not quite eight months old, she fits neatly into 6-9 month sizes.  She's loving whatever we give her to eat, but only if she is allowed to feed herself.

Having my two eldest both in school at the Wonderful Catholic School which we are so incredibly blessed to have available has been a true mixed blessing.  On the wonderful side, they are learning so much from an incredible faculty!  And the focus that is required, the self-discipline and time management--that's all definitely fantastic.

They are also both running with the cross country team, and doing unbelievably well.  I've always known that junior high boys are ridiculously fast--like fleas, really.  But I had no idea how, with some intense coaching and conditioning, that my Pickle boy could be hearing things like, "You have the ability to become a truly great cross country runner."  I had no idea that by watching my boy run, I would be so inspired that my entire understanding of who he is and what makes him tick has changed dramatically.  And watching the Frog improve her time, meet after meet, mile after mile, has been inspiring, too.  She has been able to change her attitude from, "I'm running well and that makes me happy," to, "I'm running well, but I know I can run faster, so I'm going to work really hard toward that."  That inspires me, too.

We've been going to all of the meets as a family, which enables us to spend a great deal of weekend time together.  We have a family habit of praying the Rosary whenever we're in the van for any length of time--which is usually the case, since we're roughly half an hour from most of our destinations.  It's been truly bonding for the kids, to cheer for one another, to know that their family is literally backing them every step of the way.  And it's been one step in this stage of life which sees us with kids in junior high and high school who have found a niche where they are more than comfortable, they excel.

We bring our big water coolers and a little folding table, two big canopy tents with sides and tarps for the ground, and a few camping chairs.  We get to the meets early, which really does mean early--most meets are on Saturday mornings, with the runners needing to report in time to walk/jog the course, stretch, warm up with their team, and prepare mentally and physically...which means they're usually arriving about 90 minutes before their race begins.  We get things set up for them so that when they arrive, they can relax, get into their warm up shoes, and stay warm while they wait to run their respective races.  Last year, when I was carrying my little Gingersnap beneath my heart, I stayed home with little ones (or sometimes alone!!), and now I see what I was missing out on.  Even with a very small team (we have about 15 runners all together), the kids have a wonderful time.

And so we're all just going along, day by day, trying to hang in there with the intensity that beginning the school year brings with it.  Some activities have been set on hold until a good pattern is established, or until cross country season is over, or both.  Some activities have been stopped all together in the interest of more family time.

Though I've said it before, I really do hope to come back to writing here with some increasing frequency.  I've written many posts in my head, and at some point, I need to make room for other thoughts.  :)

Prayer requests:  Please keep in your prayers:

* Kate and her family, who are dealing with a terminal illness within their family.

*Mary and her family, who recently welcomed their fifth child.

*Our neighbors, who could just really use some prayers--and I'll just ask the Holy Spirit to use those prayers in whatever ways are necessary!

*My Grams, who celebrated her 96th birthday this month, thanks be to God, and who is just always wonderful.

*All those suffering from depression, anxiety, stress, or any other mental ailment, especially those who are negatively affected by the change of seasons--those silent sufferings can be so terribly crippling, even though the one bearing them does not look sick.

*All those suffering with health issues which result in seasonal flare-ups, like arthritis, fibromyalgia and others--for the same reason as above.

Always know that I pray for those who ask me to do so.  Your intentions are always brought before Our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament when you ask for my prayers.

I don't spend a lot of time here on my little cyber-home talking about our lives as a home schooling family. I suppose part of that is that it's just so much a part of our day each day that it doesn't occur to me as something to write about.

A friend of mine on a social networking site made a comment about the school of one of her children just not working out well for their family, and I mentioned that this was one of the big reasons we made the decision to begin home schooling our children four years ago.

Someone known or related to her made this comment in response to mine:

"As flawed as our education system is, it builds social skills that can not be built at home...I have seen this many times over...home schooled kids are less likely to be socially adjusted

"also I feel leaving the education system is not really... solving the issue, become involved, get other parents involved and you will be surprised of the changes that can happen.

"And i sure the comeback will be that "MY Kids" are very social and are doing great..Unfortunately you will not see the damage until they are older....which I have seen too many times....They can not make it because they have been sheltered.

"I personnally am glad my kids are in public school...and yes we are involved in the changes that need to be done...be voice of change a be active in your schools....I see too many times, people who complain, but do not get involved in their schools and still expect change to happen...

"get involved and see what happens...

"As E. knows, I am very passionate about my beliefs. And if you truely want change and/or advice, feel free to contact my wife or myself and hopefully we can get you some good info to get you started in your schools.

"My wife is the PTO President at our school and I volunteer my time at our school also...and we have spearheaded many changes at our own school..."

Now, without being nit-picky and taking this comment apart bit-by-bit, I responded in kind:

"Well.....

"Tell that to my kids, who have been home schooled for four years now and have markedly better "social skills" than their public school educated peers. If you think my kids or any home schooled kids for that matter) aren't socialized..., you don't understand modern homeschooling. It tells me that if you do personally know any families who home school, you likely either do not see most of what goes on, don't know them very well, or know a very small sampling of homeschooling families.

"Please don't assume that I was not involved with my children's education while they were in a building school. Our eldest was in the fifth grade when we made the decision to begin homeschooling, and it most certainly was not for lack of effort on my part, the parts of other parents, or our kids to make the most of the classroom model of education. Very simply put, it does not work for many students, and the ones for whom it does not work are marked as failures, as learning-disabled, as disruptive--when that's not usually the case at all.

"I spent many long days volunteering in their three different classrooms--three days each week, assisting teachers, and helping in ways that most parents would never take the time to do.

"Colleges and universities LOOK for home schooled students because they know that these kids know how to apply themselves academically, generally have good independent work ethics, and are not afraid to set a good example for their peers. I know dozens of home schooled college students and college graduates who have been very successful and are incredible testaments to the dedication that their parents had to their education.

"My children are not "sheltered" from much of anything. They are very involved in many aspects of their community, active in ways that they would not be able to be if they were tied down to the current model of education.

"Please don't assume that homeschooling families are hick know-nothings who could care less about education or are interested only in "sheltering" their kids from "real life." The fact is, very many of us are college-educated, and see the downfalls of the public education system, who work in effort to change it, but who realize that changes happen very slowly, and that had we not made the decision to home school our children, they would have fallen victim to a system which frequently fails kids. Had I *not* been actively involved in my children's' classrooms, I likely would not have seen this in action"

.......and just because I can't keep my big mouth shut (or in this instance, can't keep my busy-bodied fingers from typing), I continued:

" I really want to elaborate on something very specific--the social aspect of schooling. Kids who begin in pre-school and continue toward graduating high school in a classroom setting are not being educated in a way that shapes them to interact well with anyone outside of their specific age group--yet once they reach college (if that is their goal) or the work environment, they are at once thrown into a place where not only are they expected to be responsible for completing tasks under their own motivation, but they are also expected to deal immediately with people of different ages, educational backgrounds and work experiences. These are the types of situations my home schooled children encounter on a very regular basis, through volunteering, participating in activities during the day or evening which encourage them to interact with others who are not necessarily within their peer-group, and which would not be available to them if they were in a classroom from 8 to 3 every day.

"My kids are able to participate in activities structured toward learning actively about government, learning about their faith, learning the history of their community, caring for the poor and needy, tending to the aged and infirm, observing many different professional and vocational callings, and in general, helping them understand that life is not entirely about them and their friends.

"My kids do not have to worry about competing with kids their age over ownership of *stuff*, over "who's dating whom?" (and the accompanying societal peer pressures to get into things they have no desire to make priorities in their lives), over who is involved in more after school activities. They know how to sit down and talk with just about any person of any age, and it's conversation with substance. They can talk with their grandparents and great-grandmothers about family history and learn their stories. They can talk with me and their dad--and do, frequently--about their thoughts and dreams and fears and hopes. They can even talk with the parents of their friends about what's going on with them, what's happening in their lives, their schooling, and their families. They can talk with kids younger than they are and even *play* with them appropriately, without the fear of being laughed at by their friends. They are capable of performing just about any household task that is asked of them. They are able to go to work with their dad and see first-hand what makes the family business run. They are learning to be responsible for more than just getting their Math and English work done!

"All of these things have helped to enrich our children in ways that could never be accomplished in a classroom setting, and each element of their day-to-day living and learning here at home is helping to build great character in each of them.

"I don't mean to imply, so please don't infer, that children who attend building school don't have character or are not capable of building character...but there are many dozens of lost opportunities for learning when you put a child into a classroom for seven hours each day and expect them to fit into that district's idea of the mold of a model student.

"E. is right--there are some children who just do not fit into that mold. Public--even private-- classroom education is not for everyone, just as homeschooling is not for everyone...but for some families, homeschooling can make the difference between a very bright, successful adult and one who has been marginalized by teachers and peers alike throughout their schooling experience."

Now, I didn't get into all of the reasons that went into our decision to home school. There are, for starters, simply too many. But what I've found is that it really doesn't matter, fundamentally, to anyone but us--and the fact of the matter is that the biggest reason we made the lap from building to home education is that it is, plainly, what God was calling us to do. Most people don't understand this, and it would be frustrating and fruitless to try to explain it.

Because we are strongly anchored in our Catholic faith, and because we knew that God was calling us to more fully live that faith, we knew that allowing our children to daily remain in the hands of people who are disinterested in instilling the truths of our faith in every aspect of their education was not only not in the best interest of our children, but for all intents and purposes, quite frankly, to their detriment. Why would we daily immerse our children into a system which undermines the moral values which we have instilled in their hearts and souls since their births? Why would we choose to put them into situations which would make the question the decisions and foundations of their parents? Why is it seen as "healthy" or "good" or "normal" to put children into situations which cause them to have to question the authority in their lives which ought to matter most?

Well, we decided, along with many other parents, along with Holy Mother Church, that it is not healthy, good, or right at all. Parents have the right to educate their children, and the moral responsibility to do so to the best of their ability, and so we took that right and responsibility seriously and began on our home schooling journey.

What do we have to show for it?

I'll let my comments above speak for themselves on that, and perhaps I'll ask the kids to start writing the occasional entry for my little cyber home here at God Will Provide.

I would encourage those of you who have chosen to educate your children at home to chime in with your thoughts--why did you begin home schooling? What have you found to be the positive aspects--and what have you found to be the greatest challenges? Do you have the support of your family? Of your friends? Of your church? Of a home schooling support or cooperative group?

Drawing nigh

I suppose that with nearly a month having gone by, I ought to update the things that need updating.

Life in our home has continued much as usual: rising, praying, breaking fast, sending two off, schooling, playing, reveling in the gorgeous sunshine and unseasonably mild days, gulping great quantities of fresh air throughout the house, lunching, napping, praying, tending chores, schooling, playing, welcoming home, cooperating, praying, supping, playing, bathing, praying and sleeping.

That's the general of it.

The extras have been...well, not profuse, but present.

There have been births within our home school group and parish family, with the requisite ministering to the Mamas, celebration of Baptisms, and loving on sweet, new, beautiful babies.

There have been deaths within the family, with the expected and mixed blessings of late-in-life passings and the shock of heart attack and death, and the requisite ministering to grieving families, prayers for the souls of the departed, and the always mixed emotions of gathering with those we love to speak of memories, sweet and sorrowful.

There have been celebrations of feasts and solemnities, including a grand party to celebrate the great Feast of All Saints, at which my sweet Squash won--to the very pure delight of his four-year-old-heart--an authentic Buzz Lightyear, who shares his days and nights, being set down only briefly, and only for bath time. He may have been aided by some awesome big kids who knew that Buzz was the desire of his little heart, and who may have been having Squash's name written on their tickets for playing games, and they may have then popped those tickets into the bucket in front of Buzz from which the winner's name would be drawn at the end of the night. Yep. That may just be what happened. Perhaps.

That party was pretty cool. It's a tradition several years old now, and for the past seven years, has also served as a fund raiser for the Frog's school. The high schoolers all set up and run little-kid games in a big shed, where the little kids (as mentioned above) receive tickets for having played, have their names written on the tickets, and then put them into buckets to be drawn to win donated prizes. There is a pot-luck supper (amazing amount of delicious goodies!), a lovely bonfire, including last year's Christmas tree, the singing of the Litany of the Saints, the parade of saints (very cute costumes, and some of them quite elaborate!), and the saints trail (middle school-aged kids handing out candy to the little ones on a lit trail through the woods, with daddies watching to ensure safety!).

I did *not* go through the haunted trail. Totally left that up to the big kids who just really seemed to enjoy having the stuffing scared out of them (no little ones allowed, thanks--in fact, most of them leave before the haunted trail even opens) by the returning college kids and upper-grade high schoolers who put the thing together and man the various stations. I like my stuffing exactly where it is, and continued to sit through the evening near the warmth and comforting light of the bonfire.

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The Frog continues to shine at school. Her grades, save for one class, were definitely worthy of a hearty hug and congratulations. That other grade happens to be in a class where my dear friend (and the Frog's teacher) assures me that a low grade is completely within the realm of normal when a student is brand spankin' new, as is the Frog, not only to the school, but also to the classroom setting. There are quite a number of formerly-home schooled students, and it just plain takes time to adjust (or in the case of the Frog, to readjust after years of being home schooled) to being in building school. And since that grade in that class was given for the first quarter of the Frog's freshman year, I'm holding perspective and trusting that she will adjust and that her performance in that class will improve.

The Pickle and the Reepicheep are also doing very well. We are able to incorporate most of their subjects, so that they are learning about the same things at their own levels on everything except math, which they pretty much share. They have made up nearly a dozen games in the back yard, and cannot get enough, it seems, of pumping that beautiful fresh air into their systems. They trek to the library each week, delighting in reading until their eyeballs practically roll straight out of their heads and onto the floor. They love going to our weekly enrichment activities with our home school group. They participate in art, phys ed, science and schola. They're learning physics, multi-media applications, doing the Presidential Fitness tests, and learning Gregorian chant (!!!!!). It's a blessing--it's a long day, but generally a good day.

The Reepicheep has been growing closer to the little Cuppie. The two of them play tea party, dance, dress up like Cinderella (whom Cuppie calls "Reela") no matter what the dress really looks like (did you know that a blue t-shirt with a picture of a fish on it is a "Reela Dress"?--even, or perhaps especially, if it's worn over pajamas!!), dance some more, sing songs together, dance a little, and snuggle in the rocking chair to read books. This is so good for both of them. It's good for Cuppie, because though she misses the Frog greatly during the day, she has discovered that she has a good and trusted friend in her other big sister. It's great for Reepicheep, because she is learning that she is capable of caring for someone smaller than she is. She's learning that when little ones depend on her, and when Mama expects it of her, she really can do things that a lot of big kids just aren't expected to do--and so they just don't do them. She regularly changes diapers, gets snacks or sandwiches, snuggles for snooze, and makes a general invaluable helper of herself. I'm really proud of her!

Squash and Pickle have been learning to play better with one another, too. Squash is a wonderful, energetic four-year-old, and Pickle is a wonderful, focused twelve-year-old. They definitely clash on occasion, but almost always find a way to work with (or around) their differences. They play legos, knights, baseball, sandbox, bikes, and made-up imaginary games galore. They race and wrestle, they fight and argue, and they love one another fiercely. Squash willingly lets his brother play with Buzz....which is a gigantic deal.

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Squash participates in the enrichment activities, too, attending the Junior Saints group. He learns songs and activities, plays games, works on crafts, and just grows and fills me with wonder and astonishment.

The other day, I was leaving a response on a message board. Squash saw my pregnancy ticker in my signature--it's a baby floating around in a circle, drawn to represent "about" what our baby looks like right now. He asked me if that was the way babies grow inside of Mamas. I explained that it's a picture that probably looks a lot like the way our baby looks right now, except that the picture is really small. And I said to him, "Our baby probably isn't bouncing around like that, because there isn't that much room...but there is some water in there for the baby to float in."

He said, "I know. There was water in there with me, too."

Now, we've talked a lot about when I was pregnant with him. He remembers the glow from light, and he remembers seeing what he calls "bloody grapes"--which is a pretty darned accurate description of the texture left behind from other placentas. He *loves* watching the PowerPoint slide show that I made of the pics of his birth, and listening to the music that I labored to. (He calls it, collectively, "Baby Water"--because he was born in the water.)

So I said to him, "What else was in the water with you?"

And he said, "God. God was in the water with me."

I said, "You remember that God was with you?"

He looked at me like he was sure I was a little bit confused, and said, "He's always been with me, Mom."

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My sweet Cuppie will swiftly turn two. TWO. TWO. I cannot even begin to believe it. And the Reepicheep, merely days later, will turn eleven. I have no idea to where the years have fled. I've searched my memory for them, and they only seem to exist in tiny fragments of memories, but even then, as mere wisps of the richness of experiences I know they once held.

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There are only fifteen weeks left of this small child growing beneath my heart. We've come up with the nickname "Little Apple," because, once-upon-a-time, one of those nifty compare-your-unborn-baby-to-the-size-of-a-common-fruit-or-vegetable websites said, "Your baby is about the size of an apple," and the Squash was utterly charmed. In our prayers each night, we say the names of each member of our family, concluding with "Little Apple." When he types the names of everyone in our family, Squash always includes "Little Apple." So even though it's currently about the size of a lovely squash, it's still our "Little Apple."

I'm looking forward to a visit with Chris tomorrow. I'm starting to notice, unfortunately, some of the signs that my body always gives me that my muscles are just a bit touchy. Some people call it "irritable uterus." I call it "stretching ligaments and sore, achy Mama, with plenty of cramping to boot." We probably won't even say the words "bed rest" this time, but I will definitely take it easy as I need to.

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I am not as anxious for this baby to come as I have been with most of the others. I am anxious about what February will bring. Will people be willing to venture out in the winter weather, with the cold, the ice, the wind and the snow, to visit with us? Will I have the energy to keep up with the little ones and the baby, and the patience to make it through each day? It's a whole different ball game with the Frog at school, but the Pickle and Reepicheep have definitely been stepping into more responsible and charitable roles with their younger siblings. That's been a comfort, to be sure. Will postpartum depression make a return, and will I be able to cope with it?

My depression continues to hover, like a storm that refuses to calm. Though I don't feel mired down quite so much most days, it lurks, waiting for my weak moments, and then it sinks in like a weight on my spirit. There are so many parts of it: guilt, sadness, loneliness, anxiety, shame, doubt and lingering grief. I recently spoke with a very dear friend who helped me to think differently on the suffering that comes with depression. I was feeling much as though perhaps God was asking me to learn how to suffer in the right way, like I'm just not getting it the way He wants me to. I don't remember her exact words, but I do remember her bringing up Blessed Mother Teresa, who walked the valley of doubt and darkness much of her life. And I remember well reading the words of Fr. Neuhaus in his book, Death on a Friday Afternoon, in which he reminds us to remain with Our Lord at the foot of the Cross, with Him in His suffering, rather than rushing too soon to the joy of Easter.

It's hard to remain in suffering willingly. It's even hard to think of Mama Mary, waiting with Him in His suffering--and very much in her own. To know that God has something for me to learn from this depression, this suffering, is a joy! But it is a joy unknown and unseen and even unimaginable.

Ah..........faith.

"Lord, I believe! Help me in my unbelief!" Saint Thomas, pray for me!

The autumn comes

Leaves are swirling in the autumn wind and falling onto the lawn, making a tapestry of beautiful colors. They are soft and damp, and the husky smell of them blows in through the open windows. Birds are calling to one another, signaling their end-of-summer plans to find sheltered places to build their winter nests.

Mama Cardinal keeps her eyes sharp against squirrels and bees.

The house is quiet today: Squash is at work with My Darling, and Reepicheep and Frog are both on an adventure with my sister-in-law. (While normally the Frog would be in school, when an Auntie purchases tickets in April for a big Broadway show staged in September...well, the Mama might just excuse a Frog from the afternoon school hours....) Pickle and Cuppie are puttering from outside on the swings, to inside, to the basement to play blocks.

I am content.

I began, about two weeks ago, to feel the small, quiet flutterings of a certain Someone. Though my sweet babe measures only about eight inches from head to toe, I am daily aware of the goings on within. Last night, for the first time, My Darling felt the soft thump of--what, a knee? an elbow? a little hand or foot?--and murmured something sweet.

This afternoon, I find myself daydreaming about frozen, deeply snowy winter afternoons, with a small, warm babe snuggled on my chest, breathing quietly, moving slightly, eyelids fluttering, sighing in satisfaction and thanks for the warm belly full of Mama's milk.

Perhaps it's that I slept better last night and then into the morning. I feel better today than I have in a long time. The Nausea Bug and Major Pukey, thanks be to God, have packed their meager belongings and ordered the retreat of their Miserable Minions. Late this morning, I started a shoulder roast in the crock pot, with onion soup mix, carrots and potatoes hedged around the sides. The smell is so tantalizing that I am eager for suppertime to roll around.

Perhaps it's that I am currently comfortably set up in the sunroom. That would be the main common living space which was included in the addition--the addition that began Four Long Years Ago, when we first broke ground. It's completely drywalled, wired and painted. The only things remaining are trim and flooring--but we do have a temporary carpet over the plywood subfloor. We moved the living room furniture out here about a month ago, and it's just as beautiful and spacious as I dreamed it would be when we were planning our scheme years ago. (The bedroom still isn't done.........but progress is being made here and there, and I know that it will be done eventually.............................)

Perhaps it's that I have been leaning back into the comforting arms of Our Lord more lately, allowing Him to fill my heart with His peace. I definitely have my days--we all have our days (as my last entry will attest)--but they are becoming less frequent. The bad days are intensely bad, but they are fewer. My Lord is pulling me ever closer to His Sacred Heart.

Whatever the reason, whatever the circumstance, I am infinitely grateful to be where I am in this moment--enjoying carrying this small child, this beautiful soul beneath my heart. I am learning to be without my Frog each day, and though I miss her terribly, I am able to see the fruits of her attending The Wonderful School. I am loving the time that I've been able to spend with each of my other children, watching them learn and grow. Reepicheep has been busily knitting things--booties, hats, small squares--for the baby. Pickle has been reading nearly non-stop about all things space and engineering. Squash has learned to write his name (!!) and is learning to read here and there. And Cuppie is talking so much that we can almost always understand what she wants and needs.

God is so very, very good.

The Joys!

I needed to make another, completely separate post. That one, just down there...well, that was a necessary re-introduction. My mind is bubbling with the events of the past weeks--a graduation, a Confirmation (!!), a Grand Decision, and just general life, which, really, adds up to quite a bit.

My Little Frog was confirmed a couple of weeks ago, on Pentecost Sunday! What a joyous day--gorgeous outside, an amazing Mass, and the beautiful hearts of her classmates confirmed with her. Two days prior, she graduated from 8th grade. Again, it was a wonderful event, with Mass and a shared meal with friends. We are so blessed to be among so many families who share our faith and our lives! It really helps to make these important and sacramental milestones more joyous, more deeply meaningful, and more memorable.

Our beloved Bishop prepares to confirm the candidates--LOVE the Fiddleback and lace!!

Back in early April, we received an e-mail about a local private school needing players for their soccer team. When a school is so small that their graduating class includes all of 6 students, it's difficult to put together a team big enough to have people on the field and on the bench. By opening up the roster to local home schoolers, they were able to make it happen. I replied to the e-mail by saying, "I think the Frog would like to participate."

Well, except that she didn't want to participate. But I'm a mean Mama, and I made her go to the first practice.

She loved it!

We had been given shoes, and the socks, shorts and shin guards were relatively inexpensive, and all of a sudden--I became a soccer Mom! AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!! But no--not one of those soccer moms. I was the Mom who grabbed the big orange drink coolers and hauled them to the practices and games. I was also the Mom who came to the tiny school to help transport the kiddos from school to the practice field. I was further the Mom who decided that kids who are playing soccer should also have something delicious to eat every now and then, and that cupcakes (filled with cream cheese, of course) were definitely on the menu.

No, wait--I guess that does make me one of those soccer moms.

So be it.

In the mean time, here's what happened: We came to know the kids from some of the families of our parish with whom we don't get to spend a lot of time, because they're not homeschooling the kids who are my older kids' ages, and they don't have little ones crying through Mass in the narthex (like Cuppie does). We also met and came to know some other amazing kids from families in other parishes--families we'd heard about, but we'd never had the blessing of meeting. Most of the kids were familiar to the Frog because of a diocesan-wide retreat she attended in February. Some of them were in her confirmation class.

This tiny little school, with the itty-bitty classes, is made up largely of families who were homeschooling and wanted to pool their resources into an intense, classical curriculum, and in turn allow their kids to absolutely flourish academically in an authentically Catholic atmosphere. The kids wear beautiful uniforms, attend Mass 3 days a week (easily done, because the facility they use adjoins a church!), and they have Eucharistic Adoration and silent reflection time the other two days. Their days begin and end with prayers, their class periods begin and end with prayers, and the teachers are all wonderful, dedicated professionals, who also happen to be practicing Catholics--some of them are parents of students. God is Good!

And now......this tiny little school will have a new student in the fall. My little Frog is going back to Building School!

The very best part about it is that we have absolute, complete peace about this decision. We can't even come close to affording it, but there are financial aid and fund raising and volunteer opportunities. And sometimes, the Holy Spirit makes things so very plain that it is easy to know that He will take care of the financial side--and so we're trusting Him to do just that!

There really is so much more in my heart......but I'll be back--soon and very soon, I'll be back.

It's WHAT time?!

On the one hand, it's really nice to be in a quiet house. The lights around the Creche glow warmly, the lights around the windows shine gently, and the slow, steady breathing of my Pudge falls on my ear. She is resting peacefully on my chest, the smell of warm milk sweet on her cheeks.

On the other hand, I could totally do without insomnia. Really. I am so tired that I can't even stand it, but my mind just will not let up.

It's been a strange Advent. My heart has been trying and trying to prepare Him room, but it's been complicated somewhat by the turn of events following Pudge's measles.

People are afraid of measles. Think about it--when was the last time you were in the presence of a person with the measles? Probably doesn't happen very often. Most people in my mom's generation had measles when they were kids, and most people of my generation and younger have been vaccinated.

The thing people are afraid of is not knowing enough about this virus to keep cool when they hear that it's "out there."

So the Pudge got measles. We don't know where, and we don't really even know how or when. It could have been at the library, or the grocery store, or even in the Narthex at church. She could have gotten it because some baby slobbered on the handle of the cart at the store and then she touched the handle and then sucked on her pudgy little fingers, or because she was drooled on by a playmate who had just been vaccinated.

So what happened? She had a fever, which we controlled easily with acetaminophen and ibuprofen and tepid baths. She had a rash which lasted a few days and then faded. She had two runny diapers. She may have had a headache and sore throat--both of which would have been alleviated with the meds. She had goopy eyes and a runny nose, which, considering her age, is not so surprising--perhaps what is surprising is that this bout with measles is the second time ever in her little life that she has been sick. And oh, yes, I do count that puny little Piggy Flu as the first.

Oh--and just to get it out there, as soon as we knew that measles was what was had, we were on the phone with those we knew to be at risk, those we thought might possibly be at risk, and those we knew would pray for the Pudge. And for Pete's sake, we kept her home until we knew she was past the possibility of passing it on.

Most of the people with whom we are in contact vaccinate. Some of them don't. Whether we or they do or don't doesn't really matter in this case--Pudge, having just turned a year, was too young to have received an MMR shot, so she fell into the category of "unprotected" by default. And those who choose not to vaccinate do not do so thinking that their children will never get______(measles, mumps, chicken pox, etc......). Generally speaking, they are a very well-educated, well-informed bunch who make decisions after weighing pros and cons, and with the support of their doctors.

But I gotta tell ya, there was mass hysteria out there. Grown, thinking, mature adults absolutely freaked out about this--and mostly because they had no idea what measles is, how it progresses, how it spreads, who's at risk and who isn't, and what they should do about it--because for Pete's sake, we'd better do something!

And why, you might ask, would this affect our Advent?

Well it's like this. We discovered Pudge's measles on Thanksgiving evening. That would be November 26th. That following Sunday (the First Sunday of Advent), November 29th, she and I did not go to Mass (though I was able to go to an evening Mass, thanks be to God). That Monday, Pickle went with My Darling to the boys' club that they always go to on Monday, and someone was very upset about that. Never mind that Pickle is vaccinated and boostered. He cannot carry measles. But whoever was upset about it started The Panic. The Panic spread, the rumors began, the gossip flowed like cheap wine from a box, and the phone began ringing off the hook.

Oh wait--actually, it didn't.

On Sunday, My Darling let a couple of people know that Pudge had the measles, and I received one e-mail from a very lovely woman asking how Pudge fared, and would we like her to send a meal along with her husband and sons to give to My Darling on Monday evening? God bless her!!

The next day, our whole home school group received an e-mail stating that measles was "making the rounds"--because, you know, one child in one family equals "making the rounds." Someone heard about this and passed it on and passed it on and passed it on (because sometimes we women........well, sometimes we talk.). And someone threatened to call a doctor whom they knew who kept track of infectious diseases. And someone called someone else and said that we were using this as an excuse to drop our home school group like a hot potato because we wanted to participate in a different one. And someone called someone else and said that they heard that our daughter said to someone else's daughter that we might not be homeschooling all the way to high school anyway, so what did it matter?

Yes, really.

Everything kind of happened behind closed doors and spilled onto keyboards and screens.

Now, I love e-mail. I use it all the time and think it's groovy that I can send quick updates and notes to my Grams, and print off menus for Mass when I'm scheduled to cantor. But when something like this happens, I truly wish that all e-mail service in the 100 miles surrounding us would crash. People grew not only afraid of measles, but of the phone.

Some of the e-mails we received were near threats--"Don't show up to First Friday Mass!" Some of them were piggybacks of gossip--"We hear MamaMidwife's Lovey and Flower have measles, too--we're praying for them!" (.....except that they didn't have them....not that anyone bothered to call her to find this out.......) Some of them were directed to MamaMidwife, and were Just Plain Hurtful--"Don't come to this event because I'm terrified that you'll give measles to others there!" (.....even though she's vaccinated and cannot carry measles.....)

The fear, I tell you, was palpable.

The worst e-mail--the kindest, but the worst--was the one from our beloved Monsignor. Someone had called or e-mailed him very, very late on Saturday evening, the night before the Second Sunday of Advent. We had already made the decision that the big three were going to Mass with My Darling and the little ones would stay home with me. And at 11:00 at night, I received an e-mail letting our family know that we had all been dispensed of our obligation to attend Holy Mass, the Holy Mass celebrating Immaculate Conception, and all Masses until we were confident that the risk of exposure had passed.

Yes, really.

And what was the risk?

The risk was that because the Monkey, who has not been vaccinated, lives with his dear sister the Pudge, he might carry the measles and hand it off to some unsuspecting unvaccinated child.

Not that we could arrange to not have him at First Friday Mass. Not that we could make sure he stayed--literally--within our arms at Sunday Mass, and in the back of the church, or on the side where very few people ever sit because the lighting is horrible. Not that we were out to expose the families whom we know and love like our own families, for Pete's sake, wishing them all to suffer the wrath of the measles!

And how long was this a risk? Well gosh, I don't know. It probably still is, because here it is, December 17th, and he has yet to get the fever, the Koplik's spots, the rash, the goopy eyes, the sore throat, the headache, the diarrhea, or for pity's sake, the anything associated with measles. But, you know, it could happen at any time.

This Sunday, Gaudete Sunday, REJOICE Sunday, we went to Mass as a family, in the parish to which we belong.

Not the First Sunday of Advent. Not First Friday. Not the Feast of the Immaculate Conception. Not the Second Sunday of Advent. And Heaven knows, none of the daily Masses in between.

And as a result of the fear, gossip, panic and lack of communication, we are now considering leaving the home school group with which we'd felt such a strong bond. We hadn't considered it before this whole thing erupted. But having been on the receiving end of a lot of muck being slung about, we're not sure it's really the place we want to nurture our children. (Our children, who, by the way, were witness to their mother reading e-mail after e-mail, talking with friends and those whom she thought to be friends, trying to sort out and assure that we were not trying to infect people with some deadly disease, and for Pete's sake, would they please ask us what our plans for our family are, rather than relying on what someone's daughter said that our daughter said months ago??!! Yes, REALLY!)

A lot of damage can be done when people allow fear to take hold. With the refusal to ask questions, research anything, talk with any doctor who actually deals with measles, rather than studying it from a book, so much has been accomplished on the side of evil--hurt feelings, motives questioned, friendships destroyed, faithful people alienated.....

So it's been a strange Advent.

I'm trying so to keep it all in perspective, to focus on the joy of this season. It's been mighty difficult. There's so much other crud going on that Mass has been all I've had to look forward to...and when you're told not to come to Mass, it's like a stab to the very soul, with a twist of the blade for good measure.

Thanks be to God, my Pudge is well. Thanks be to God, the Monkey is, too. Thanks be to God we can now fully focus on Advent, on preparing our hearts to welcome the Lord Jesus, the Infant King, Emmanuel, God with us.

The Sacrifice of the Holy Hour

It's First Friday, thanks be to God. Last night, My Darling and I (along with the Snuggle Bug) went to take part in the prayer service which, combined with Adoration, makes up the First Friday Vigil observance, which is part of our devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Though my sacrifice was called to be a bit different, the part I was able to participate in was lovely. Fr. B., our home school group's chaplain, brought our Lord in the consecrated Eucharist out from the tabernacle. He placed the Host in the monstrance, and we were able to sit there with Jesus, adoring Him, seeing Him there before us. We prayed, we sang, we sat in silence....

.....well, relative silence. See, in a silent church building, the smallest sounds can be heard. And when those small sounds are emanating from a sweet nursling, such as my Snuggle Bug, it's really quite noticeable. The gulps, the slurps, the grunts...and especially the belches of appreciation...these were all her little contributions last night. And it would have been fine if that had been the end of the matter. Ah, but it wasn't. She went from being a happy, babbly, amiable little thing to a fussy, crabby, grumbly little thing.

So, with 20 minutes remaining to our Holy Hour, she and I found ourselves pacing, bouncing and praying in an enclosed narthex off the side of the church. This, too, would have been fine but for two points: the first being that the Blessed Sacrament was just out of view...and I wanted to spend my Holy Hour gazing upon our Lord and listening for Him to speak to my heart. Even with a fussy baby, it's easier to focus on Him when one can actually see Him.

The second point was that when we first came into this small room, the heater was on and it was relatively warm. But the fan only remained on for the first four or five minutes, and then quit--leaving us in an unheated space, walking on tiles which grew colder and colder with each passing moment. Of course, in my thinly-soled loafers, my feet quickly became chilled, with the chill rising up into my legs, settling into my very bones. My arms ached. My back grew sore.

And so what we long for as human beings: comfort, warmth, a nice place to sit, what we want before our eyes and ears is so often sacrificed. Not just by mothers and fathers, for Pete's sake, but just simply as people. I could have stayed comfortably perched on my padded kneeler. I could have sat on the cushioned seat of the pew. I could even have stayed in the heated nave. Heck, I could have left the Snuggle Bug at home under the capable care of the Frog.

But what would the cost have been then? It wouldn't have been a sacrifice at all. It would have been the easy thing...which is rarely the right thing. Easy would have been to stay home, lounging on the couch with my Boppy and my baby, and taking in a spiffy movie or playing a round of cribbage with My Darling. Easy would have been to not pack the diaper bag, not load up the Bug, and not go to the Holy Hour at all. Easy would have been to sit there and let my fussy baby fuss, assuming that the other adorers there would just get over it--Jesus called the little children to Himself, after all. But none of these things would have been quite the right thing.

The day will come when I will not have a fussy, squirmy baby in my lap, for whom I now have to take the time to comfort and rock. I pray fervently that the day comes because my baby has grown out of this particular need.

For C., that day came so abruptly...so unexpectedly....and far, far too early.

I hope that what I am doing is the right thing. I think Jesus for the much, much bigger sacrifice that He made for me, a miserable sinner. I ask God to bless me with the wisdom that I too often lack, for the prudence that I so often seem to miss, and for the grace which never seems to be abundant enough. And in the mean time, I'll let Him be enough.

Holding steady

Well, we seem to be in a holding pattern, thanks be to God. While some things remain a bit tedious (contractions and bed rest combined with the intense urge to NEST, for Pete's sake!!), my hypoglycemia issue has apparently been assuaged by small, frequent infusions of high protein. Meatloaf, eggs, nuts, cheese...everything helps. Oh, and yogurt, too...but I only tolerate the taste of yogurt when it's mixed into a smoothie. Mmmmm!!

Saturday brought a crew of helping hands to the house, and boy did they get a lot done! Thanks be to God for good friends, decent weather, and a fruitful day.

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Missing Mass yesterday was hard. Aside from the intense longing just to be at Mass, our dear friends were having their precious baby boy baptized (thank goodness the Frog took her camera and captured some beautiful images for me...), and there was a prayer service following Mass to support our wonderful priests (yesterday was Priesthood Sunday).

When my family returned home, My Darling removed his sweater and handed it to me, knowing exactly what I would do with it: I covered my face with it and deeply inhaled the sweet, holy fragrance of incense. I still have it near my pillow so that I can grab it from time to time and smell one of my favorite scents in the entire earthly world...

And, of course, My Darling brought me Communion in our pyx. It is so comforting to know that I can read and reflect on the readings in my Magnificat, watch Mass on EWTN or one of our local stations (one of them broadcasts Mass every Sunday for those unable to attend), and then My Darling can bring me Jesus. It's so not even close to being there and experiencing the Mass, but it'll do for the next couple of weeks. I can do this for two more weeks. Really. I can. Philippians Four-Thirteen, for Pete's sake!!

I have been finding it a little easier to keep in mind that whatever sacrifices He asks of me, God intends for either the betterment of my own soul, or for someone else. Two weeks really is not so long.

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Some ladies are coming tomorrow night for what our home school group has dubbed "Maternity Moms' Night Out." There is a regular "Moms' Night Out," which always involves going out to eat as a group and recently has included karaoke. But one of the moms decided that with all of the pregnant Mamas in our group, we needed to do something specifically for the expecting Mamas.

Most of us are having our fourth, fifth, sixth--even seventh babies. Sadly, so many of our family and friends outside our home school group or parish families just don't seem to recognize the miracle that each life is! I remember having a shower for the Pickle, but nothing for Reepicheep or Monkey. And with Monkey, we really could have used one! We had given all of our baby items away, after four years of secondary infertility and having been told that we would likely never conceive again. We ended up having to buy everything all over again, from the car seat to the crib and high chair. A few of the special clothes had been set aside, so that each of our children could have something from their babyhood down the road, but most of them had been given away long ago.

More than a shower, though, it was the support that we really found hurtfully lacking. There were a very few of our family members who came to visit after the Monkey was born (some of them never even called or acknowledged his birth at all!), and only a fraction of them were in attendance at his baptism. And forget the notion of bringing a meal or tossing in a load of laundry, or giving a hand with household chores. I think there were perhaps two people who filled that role, and the rest of it fell to My Darling. Do people think that if it's your fourth or fifth baby, you bounce back faster physically??

And the announcement that we were pregnant *again* was met with just plain eye-rolling disdain on some parts--not just with this Little Pumpkin, but even with the Monkey. Hey, we happen to have planned this baby, and by the grace of God, we were blessed! And we happen to realize that every single baby conceived and brought into a family is a miracle, whether they are the first, the third, the fifth or the tenth!! Every soul is new, every new life ordained by God Himself. It saddens me that so many fail to recognize this.

Well, this happens to be an issue faced by many of the families with whom we are friends. So rather than having a shower for each baby, we Mamas gather together with the expectant Mum and treat her at her favorite restaurant. We talk and share our pregnancy and birth experience stories over good food. Some people bring small token gifts--a crib medal, perhaps, or a baby Rosary--but most just come for the fellowship.

Since I am on bed rest, the Mamas are coming here and bringing potluck. We shall play board games and laugh and visit, and most of all, they will bring love and support for this sweet Little Pumpkin! I am so looking forward to the company of my dear friends; it almost makes the next two weeks seem even more bearable!

If my prayers come to fruition, the birth of this baby will be celebrated with joyful thanksgiving, prayer, and love from all sides. I pray for everyone who knows us to welcome this child as heartily and enthusiastically as they did our first and second and third. And I pray for hearts to be softened to know that children are such precious gifts, that families can have more than two or three, and that no matter what number in the mix they are, each dear child is cherished and loved.

And hey, a helping hand wouldn't hurt, either. :)

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The Forty Days for Life campaign is coming to a close on November 2nd. Please continue to keep in your prayers all those whose lives are adversely affected by this tragedy; may God have mercy on them and on all of us.

And so it goes

I've not been getting here perhaps as often as I'd like to. What can I say? Life when homeschooling can be unpredictable and crazy-busy, and that's exactly what it's been here.

The graces continue to flow, thanks be to God, which means that things are very much getting back to where we need them to be in our marriage and in our home. Humility and obedience are good things.

We were supposed to go see Chris this week, but for the second time, when I called to let her know we would be departing, she was with a laboring Mama, so we have to reschedule. I love this--really! Any Mama who has had to deal with delays at the clinic because her doctor is at the hospital will probably understand this. See, I call ahead to make sure Chris is available for our appointment. If she is, it's spiffy, and we meet with her. If she's not, we reschedule for a couple of days later. This means that our time and gas is not wasted--we don't sit around idly in a waiting room somewhere, with people coughing and sneezing on us, or holed up in an exam room reading the same magazines we've read the last four times we were in. Anyway, we get to meet with her this afternoon. When I called her this morning to reschedule, she said, "Well, that baby eventually came out!"

I am anxious for this appointment. I think the baby is lying transverse--that is, a bit sideways--and I want to see what Chris thinks about that. I've been becoming increasingly frustrated as my body continues to betray me here and there...my round ligaments are so weak that they are not doing a very good job of suspending my little one's home...and the muscles beneath it are beginning to rebel at having to pick up the slack. This means that although we are nearly 26 weeks (only 14 weeks left?! How did that happen?!), other peoples' perspective is that I appear small, when in reality, the baby is filling me out very, very low, and also very much toward my back. It also means that as that lower muscle becomes more and more fatigued, my belly contracts more and more...and that's not necessarily a good thing. I know that bed rest is coming; at this point it's just a matter of time.

But as I mentioned to My Darling: I can teach from the couch. I can plan simple meals which yield lots of leftovers. I can e-mail a detailed shopping list to My Darling--who works on the other side of the highway from the grocery store! Going to Mass does not mean I'm not resting--I have to sit to drive, don't I? This, too, shall pass. And of course, I'd do it again, and again, and again...it's such a small part of my life, traded for the beautiful life of such a lovely gift from God Himself. As long as my family understands and cooperates (and they do!), then it doesn't bother me too much. I guess.

So I find myself filling the time by embroidering, sewing, praying, reading, snuggling my babies, answering questions about spelling and history and science, watching old movies (I love Doris Day!) and daydreaming about the Bean. Life could be much worse! And it seems that this is just another lesson in obedience: I could just as easily go about my business, bustling around, doing whatever I please, and ignoring the signs that my body is giving me, but what good would that be? No, I choose to slow down and take the time that is necessary to carry a healthy baby, allow the growth that is needed, and wait. There will be plenty of time for bustling later.

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School is going so well that I find myself continually thanking God for His goodness. At the moment, the Frog is listening to her "math teacher" (a CD-ROM) explain basic algebraic equations, the Pickle is at the kitchen table studying the readings for Sunday, the Reepicheep is reviewing her Latin lessons for a quiz, and the Monkey is drawing on a dry-erase board.

Frog loves math. If I were to tell her, "The only thing we're doing this week is math," she'd be happy as a little clam. I so cannot relate to this. I dropped Algebra II at the semester break during my senior year of high school because all of a sudden, I Just Didn't Get It...and there was literally no hope. My mind is absolutely not set up for abstract math concepts, and even though I was getting tons of extra help from both teachers and students-who-got-it, I was failing miserably. So since it wasn't required, and since there was another English elective I wanted to take instead, I made the easy choice of bidding fair well to math, for Pete's sake.

But the Frog? She takes after her aunt, my sister C, who loved math way more than I ever knew was possible. Frog is happy to just sit there and fiddle with numbers the live long day. Have at it, I say! The big blessing here is that we have that CD-ROM which explains everything she needs to know. I also have an answers manual which also shows the work for each problem, so that we can go over things step-by-step, one at a time, to make sure she understands everything. And we also have an uncle in the family who happens to be a math (and science and chemistry and physics) expert...so we can go to him with questions, too.

The Pickle enjoys reading (all of my kids are book worms!), so his first assignment this morning is gravy. Also, I like to have him be able to look ahead so that when he's concentrating on being the Very Best Server He Can Possibly Be on Sunday, he's already heard the readings and the Gospel, and he gets more out of the Mass. He'll zip through his spelling and vocabulary quizzes later on, I have no doubt, and will tolerate the rest of his school day, and then relish in the afternoon of outside time.

Reepicheep is absolutely enchanted with Latin. Isn't that a beautiful thing? She particularly loves learning about derivatives, and seeing how we use other languages to make new words in English. I find it fascinating as well, I must admit, and I'm enjoying learning Latin with the kids. I knew lots of basic Latin from choral music and a few liturgical phrases here and there, but since the Church stopped using Latin so much, there was never a need to learn it when I was in (Catholic) grade school. I love this return to the earlier traditions of our faith, and I love learning along with our children about the rich histories.

We've noticed that the Monkey is mostly left handed--a south-paw! Indeed, when he grabs a fork or a pencil or a crayon, it's with his left hand. Scissors are becoming useful to him, so I'm going to have to look for some "lefties," so that he has better control. Funny thing is, he's actually rather competent with either hand, so part of me wants to just keep fostering that aspect. Can you imagine injuring your dominant hand and not being inconvenienced by it? I remember breaking my right thumb in high school, and feeling like I had to relearn how to eat, write, play piano, open my locker, tie my shoes......you get the idea.

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Not so interesting, I know, but that's how the day is going. It's not always interesting, but it is our daily life. Each day is such a gift, full of God's graces and blessings, and even if it's not exciting enough for someone else to say, "Man, I wish I was doing THAT today!" we are thankful that this is the life He has provided for us.

It's Official....

We've comfortably settled into a great routine. The kids get up, they do their morning tasks, they eat their breakfast and clear their places, and then they settle into schoolwork. This morning we began with English. Although not a single, solitary sentence has been diagrammed since late Spring, the Frog fell right into pace with it. She did about five minutes' worth of review, and then promptly remembered what she needed to. The Pickle was dealing with pronouns (singular? Plural?) and he did just as well as the Frog. Reepicheep, loving English the way she does, did English yesterday as a "bonus" lesson (yep; she's one of those!), so she did Math today. Out of four pages, only two answers were wrong. Impressive!

Even the Monkey is responding well: he knows that when Brother and Sisters are bent over their books, it's time to play with his toys in the area affectionately known around here as "Monkeyland." He makes block towers and lets his Brown Monkey knock them down. He works with his puzzles. He puts his vast collection of brightly colored duckies into circles or squares or rhombuses (rhombi?). He plays with his Pooh-in-the-Box. He's a good boy! He's very patient, and his patience has been rewarded. Today is soggy and rainy, so recess is upstairs. I think Legos may be involved.

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We have set the date for the Bean's baptism! It is on the calendars of our wonderful friends, Msgr. H. and Fr. E. and Teresa, thanks be to God.

It will be a stand-alone occasion rather than a Mass. While I'm a little sad about this, I'm not nearly as sad as I was earlier. I know that the day we've chosen will be a grand celebration, because the people we know and love (and who know and love us!) will be there with us--and the baptism is what counts, for Pete's sake. It could be just us and the Bean's godparents anywhere at any time, but we've been blessed to have such wonderful people supporting us and loving this baby, and it will be at such a grand time in the liturgical year--The Octave of Christmas, Indeed!--with such fine people surrounding us in a place we know and love! God smiles on us and provides each of our needs in turn, as always. We are so richly blessed!

It's good to have things settled, date-wise. Now I can start planning everything else. I love that the church will still look and smell like Christmas. I'm sure that the meal will be scrumptious. The company will be pleasant. The conversations will be savored. And, God willing, everything will be Just Right.

And so we begin anew.....

I had such fabulous intentions of starting school last week. Isn't that always the way--those intentions can really come back to bite a person, especially if you share them with another person. I'm pretty sure it's proportionate, too...the more people you tell, the less likely it is that you'll reach your goal. Or something like that.

So we began this morning.

The kids did their usual "two chores before each meal" routine, and then everyone did math. At the moment they're outside for "recess," which is nearly over.

I love how this morning went. I love that while they were doing their math, I had time to work on my menu and shopping list for the week, while Monkey watched a little bit of Thomas. I love that I had time to make a quick phone call to My Darling to see if he would have time to pick up a few odds and ends that we need....and that he said, "Why don't you e-mail the grocery list to me, and then if my afternoon permits, I'll just do the shopping?" (Oh, TWIST my arm!) I love that the kids are all playing so nicely outside that I hear nothing (not even the Scream Just Because Screaming is the Thing To Do), even though the windows and doors are wide open to let all this glorious fresh air inside!!

What a gorgeous, perfect day.

The other thing that we started, along with our school routine, is a new system of privileges. I need to be able to steer them away from media and into activities that will actually benefit them, rather than encourage laziness, for Pete's sake (although, truth be told, they do spend lots and lots of time outside messing around in the yard or biking or rollerblading or jump roping or bouncing on the little trampoline or......).

So each week, each of them will be able to earn Art Project Time (free project--not school related), Baking Time, Movie Time (once each week), Computer Time (twice each week), and either Sewing Time or Tool Time. This amounts to six days, because Sunday is Family Day, and the options there will be up to Dad. They each have a specific privilege on each weekday which can be earned by completing their morning routine (Bedroom Zone, 2 Chores Before Breakfast, Clearing Breakfast Mess, Morning School) without complaint and in a timely manner. The days alternate--so for example, today, Reepicheep earned Baking Time, Pickle earned Computer Time, and Frog earned Movie Time. Tomorrow, Reep can earn Computer Time, Pickle can earn Tool Time, and Frog can earn Baking Time. The other part of this is that they can do these things during Quiet Time, with the exception of Tool Time (because that's with Dad, and, well, he's not here during Quiet Time).

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Tweenagers. Is there anything like them in the world? I'm finding it something of a mixed bag to have one in my house, and a girl at that. She is clever and talented, tall and pretty, and very responsible. And very much starting to have to reign her emotions and attitude in. It's not a bad thing, but it's definitely something that I'm glad didn't happen overnight.

I'm having to be very careful about how I phrase things to her, lest a fit of tears be the result of careless words. And warnings--oh yes, we Absolutely Must Follow Through With Them. There is no other way. That's kind of been one of our strengths anyway, so that's not too worrisome. The trouble is finding something that matters to her enough that when a privilege is removed, it actually makes an impact. Then the trouble is making the consequence proportional to why it's being meted out. Then the trouble is following through, yet again, to be certain that the undesirable behavior is actually changed. I know there are books, "life coaches," counselors, nannies on television, and Dr. Phil (we prefer Dr. Ray by far!)--all kinds of experts to tell parents what to do and exactly how to go about it. The problem with all of that is that I'm the expert on my children. What is effective for one does not necessarily work for the next.

I know, I know. This, too, shall pass. And then the next one will be this age, and I'll have no idea what to do for him, either.....and then it'll pass. And then the next, and then the next........and hopefully, by the time they're ready to be Their Own Individual Persons, we will have laid a solid foundation and they'll be able to just......really be OK and learn from their mistakes and treat others kindly and remember everything we taught them and love Jesus more than life and eventually.....make it to Heaven.

Can you tell I'm just a little anxious? How in the world can I not be, when it's my job to raise these Little Souls, which are on loan to me and their Daddy from God? And it's our goal, then, to safely return these Little Souls to Him in heaven. It's a trialsome journey, but it's also joyful. And this is where I really need to just keep praying my way through each day, each hour, each minute...and hope that I'm hearing Him right and then be obedient.

And always keep in mind.....Phippians 4:13, for Pete's sake!