A Pleasantly non-Summery Sunday

Yes, there were raw eggs in the dough. 

I'll avoid joining the ranks of people going into rhapsodies over the fact that Fall is finally in the air.  On every blog and Facebook page I read, all people are talking about is how great it is to feel a chill in the air, wear a jacket, and consume pumpkin-flavored everything from Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts.  Don't get me wrong - I feel the same way.  But you are all probably sick of hearing about it!  With the cooling of the temperatures, though, I feel my summertime/early pregnancy lethargy starting to dissipate, and it's really nice to have some more energy again.


I must have been really looking worn out last week, though.  There's an older woman at our church, who for whatever reason, has really taken to my family.  She loves seeing us there with our kids, and always comes up to say hi afterwards, and sends us cards for the kids' birthdays and name days.  A couple days after she had seen us at Mass last week (we didn't get a chance to chat afterwards), she sent us a card in the mail.  She had enrolled us in a year of "healing Masses" with a religious order.  She included a little note, saying "I don't know the nature of your crisis but it was evident to me that you are experiencing severe pain."  Oh my.  It's true that Tom and I were both having a really rough morning that day, but I didn't like her worrying so much.  I wrote her back a note to explain that Tom was really overworked at his job, and had to take on overtime every evening and weekend for the past few weeks.  And that I was really exhausted from the pregnancy, and was feeling rather nauseous that morning.  She wasn't there today, but I hope she received my letter and didn't feel embarrassed.  I did et her know how much we appreciated her concern, prayers, and friendship.

Things have gotten appreciably better for both of us since last week.  This morning, we were both feeling fine.  But man, was it was such a struggle dealing with our little girl.   I had forgotten how bad this squirmy stage is.  Sly's to the point where he can sit or stand relatively still at Mass.  If he needs to be taken to the back, it's just because he's talking too loudly or kicking the pew or something.  But Stella is just all over the place.  She wants to stand up facing the back of the pew and interacting to everyone behind us.  Then a second later she wants to be in my lap.  Then she wants to be crawling on top of Sly.  Then she wants to yank all the books out of the rack at the back of the pew.  Then she wants to stand on my lap and almost plunge over the pew in front of us.  Then she wants to stand against the back again.  I pretty much didn't register a single thing that was happening at Mass today.  I was so completely distracted the baby wrangling, making sure she didn't hurt herself.

As the closing hymn today, we sang "Jesus My Lord My God My All."  I really love that song (Tom would yell at my for calling it a "song", insisting that hymns are completely different), but I can barely get any of the words out when I try to sing it.  It makes me dissolve into a puddle of tears everytime.

Jesus, my Lord, my God, my all,

How can I love Thee as I ought?

And how revere this wond'rous gift,

So far surpassing hope or thought.

Sweet Sacrament, we Thee adore.

O make us love Thee more and more!

O make us love Thee more and more!