April in Photos

Flora is one year old, and finally starting to pull up to standing.  The other kids are engrossed in the Elmo's Potty Time video their Grammy sent, the latest in a string of unsuccessful ploys to convince Linus to potty train...

Flora in my favorite old-fashioned type of little girl dress

my sweet girls :-)

Just an unecessary photo of my kitchen, because I'm so happy with how bright and cheery it is

Stella's art is just too cute for words

The kids have been bringing me and our Mary statues bunches of spring flowers every day

We identified these ones growing in our yard as periwinkles, and grape hyacinths

Sly had to spend an afternoon in the hospital, after whacking his face on a chair and cutting open his eyelid.  His vision is fine, but he needed four stitches - which required him to be fully sedated.

After years of working on Tom to allow us to get a pet for the kids, he agreed to let the kids pool their money for a pair of hmasters + cage that someone was selling for a really good price on Craigslist.  They are over the moon, and just loving their new pets.  Here, Sly is holding "Mr. Woodchip" (the kids picked the names)

Linus holding "Mr. Fluff"

Flora pulling up once again.  At the midwife's office....where we have been going for prenatal appointments.  We are expecting another baby in September! :-D

December Photo Dump

Happy St. Nicholas Day!

I took a photo  of Stella with a fluffy little toy alpaca she found in her shoe this morning, and realized that I have a bunch of photos in my phone that I needed to transfer over to the computer.  Here are just a few, to give a glimpse of what we've been up to recently.

The weekend before Thanksgiving, we had dinner with three other families we are friends with, all of whom live in Maryland.  Two of us are homeschooling the kids, and two of us send the kids to a Catholic classical school.  Needless to say, our children have all been made to memorize poetry.  So it was the most heartwarming and encouraging moment for me when, after we had finished eating, the children voluntarily took turns going up to recite poems for the whole group!  At one point, there was even a little scuffle as several of them began shoving each other, wanting to have the stage.  With the exception of that little episode, though, the whole experience so completely fit my ideal of the type of education I'm trying to give my kids.  A wonderful time.

Sweet sleeping baby shot.

While driving from Maryland to the Philly area to stay with the in-laws, we stopped at a tiny middle-of-nowhere diner that was a total throwback to the 50s.  They still had a functioning jukebox that played 45rpm records for a nickel a song!  The kids were fascinated by it, and loved watching the automatic arm put down the record and start to play.

My brother-in-law and my husband dressed super fashionably (they were in vacation mode, I guess) a couple days before Thanksgiving.  And yes, they did go out in public like this!

My quilting group meets on Monday nights, which is trash night around here.  Several times on my way home, I have pulled over to save some treasure from someone's trash.  One of my recent finds was this cute little children's rocking chair.  The wood wasn't in the best shape, so I didn't want to spend time refinishing it with stain.  Here it is primed and ready for painting.  Stay tuned for a future post to see what color it became!

The big kids put some reindeer antlers on Flora.  She is not crawling yet, but seems so so close.

Babies with anything on their heads are just the cutest.  Maybe I'll have her wear these when we visit "Santa" this year.

Someone posted this on Facebook, and I liked it.  I feel like I should have this posted up somewhere in the house, as a reminder to myself.

I'm very slowly starting the decorating process around here, trying to keep the spirit of Advent, and not go "full Christmas" too soon.  I pulled out some of my special paper snowflakes I made in college, and hung them up around the bottom floor.  The kids thought they were so neat, and wanted to make some of their own. It turns out that Sly is currently the only one with enough hand strength and control to cut through all the layers of paper....which means the younger two were alternately crying in frustration/whining at me for help, and....it just wasn't that fun for anyone.  Maybe in a few years we will try again!

Linus fell asleep for a late afternoon nap, and our cat was willing to go the closest she's ever gone to him!

The Closet Madonna

We have an abundance of Mary statues around here....an outdoor one who looks after our garden, a beautiful pearlescent one on our home altar, one in the dining room opposite a St. Joseph statue, two kitchen Madonnas in - appropriately enough - the kitchen, and a scattering of smaller ones in bedrooms.

Then there's the poor neglected  Lady of Sorrows statue that's been sitting in my closet for ages.  We used to have her out in out living room until Advent started one year.  A sorrowful Mary just didn't fit with the season of Advent.  Besides, I was going through the house trying to reduce excess where I could, and that statue had never been my favorite anyways.  So I put her in my closet to keep her safe from little hands....and I guess I kind of forgot about her.  Or perhaps I just haven't taken the time to figure out what to do with her.

I have a strict "no kids in my closet" rule, but ever since the kids discovered the statue in there a few months ago, I've allowed one exception - they are allowed to go in each morning while I have it open and give her a kiss.  Stella often talks to me about why Mary is so sad.

Acting upon another sweet and holy inspiration, the kids have been occasionally picking flowers from the yard, and bring them in to give to the yellow Kitchen Madonna near the sink.  I keep some mini vases next to her just for this purpose.  Truth be told, it's a benefit to myself as well, since I enjoy having pretty fresh flowers to look at while I'm washing the endless dishes.

A couple weeks ago, Stella brought in a big orange day-lily.  It was one of the first of the season, and I was looking forward to displaying it on my kitchen shelf.  I started filling one of the little vases, but Stella stopped me.  "No, I want to give it to another Mary."  I tried to convince her to give her flower to Mary in the dining room or Mary in the backyard.....somewhere public where we could all enjoy the beautiful flower.  But Stella was insistent - she wanted to give the flower to the Mary in my closet.  I told her the flower wouldn't do well just shut up in the dark, that no one would be able to see it in there, that I didn't want a vase of water spilling all over the carpet, and that we should really find a better place.  "No," Stella answered, "I want to give it to Mary in your closet.  To make her not sad anymore."

Of course, my heart just melted under the impact of such a pure and loving intention.

It's now become somewhat regular for Stella to bring a flower to "Mary in my closet" - gifts given completely unselfishly, entirely for the joy and honor of the recipient.

Why I Don't Hate My Body Anymore

For the first time since adolescence, I think I'm finally becoming comfortable with my body.

It happed like this.

Like so many females, I spent my pre-teen and teen years longing to be thinner.  Wanting my body to resemble the women's figures in magazines and movies, or at least to fit into a smaller pant size like the other girls.  Searching after that elusive "skinniness" every teen talks about.

I was on my high school's crew team, which is a very demanding sport.  I was fit, I was healthy, I could row like a beast (funny - that word used to be a high compliment for us back in the day, but I'm not sure that I'd like to be called a beast anymore!).  Even though my body could do so much, I cared only about the way it looked.  And it still didn't look skinny enough.

In college, I went for runs everyday: 3-6 miles long, sometimes more.  I ran two full marathons, two half marathons, and countless smaller races.  I ate more healthily than ever in my life.  Really, I was in the best shape I will probably ever be.  But even at my lowest adult weight - you know, that number that you would have to work really really hard to keep over the long term - I still didn't feel thin enough.  I just wanted to have a waist.  For my body to go in at the middle!  Maybe not the ideal hourglass proportions, but something that at least suggested that type of female figure. 

The skinniest I ever was.  And I think this photo just caught me at a good angle.

 
I've finally accepted that I never can have that.  To be specific: my frame just won't allow it.  My ribcage and my hipbones have barely an inch between them, and there's no room for me to ever have a waist, "unless", as Tom jokes "you have a couple ribs removed".  My legs, despite the fact that I barely get any exercise these days are still extremely muscular - more so than many men I know.  Some people might envy them, but they're just not very feminine.  It's how I'm made.

I debated posting a bathing suit picture for modesty reasons.  But I think it's relevant to the story I'm telling.

Marriage was the first step in helping me to accept the body I was given.  When you marry and begin to share your body and your life with another person, you come to see that the body has so much more value and meaning than just an appealing outer covering.  We have a body because we are meant to use it, to give it, to serve others with it.

Plus, my husband loved me and loved my body.  So it couldn't be completely terrible, right?

During pregnancy and childbirth, your body gets stretched to its limits (metaphorically, I mean...but actually in a literal sense as well!).  It wasn't until I had grown a tiny human inside of myself for nine months, used my body to painfully bring that human into the world, and then spent the next year further nurturing him with the milk that I was miraculously making that I really understood what I was capable of.  My body can do amazing and wonderful things!  This is what my body was made for - what everyone's body was made for: to allow them to carry out their vocation.  Whatever that may be. 

My vocation right now is to be a wife to my husband, to birth babies, and to do the work of raising them.  My vocation is not to have an hourglass figure. It's time to give myself permission to not have to be thin.  As long as I'm doing my part to keep my body reasonably healthy - i.e. able to perform my duties - I think I'm doing what I should.

I wanted a picture of me wearing a baby, but the only one I can find has me eating a cookie...right after I finished talking about being healthy!

I won't pretend to understand the deep mysteries of personhood....about the fact that we don't just have bodies, but that we are bodies.  But what I do know is that if my body is "me", it seems useless to keep going through life hating myself. 

A Lover-ly Motherly Day // Answer Me This

My husband and the kids all worked hard to make yesterday a very special Mothers Day, and I enjoyed many little luxuries.  I would have been happy with just a handmade card by the kids, but I think I got spoiled this year.

In the morning, Tom let me sleep in, and took the older two kids down to the kitchen make me breakfast in bed (I'd said just toast and coffee would be fine).  It was nice to get a little more sleep, though it was interrupted several times by tantrums happening in the kitchen.  First, Sly started bawling because Daddy make the unforgivable mistake of putting the bread into the toaster himself.  Then Stella had a fit because she didn't want to leave her own breakfast for a minute to help bring my food upstairs.

I enjoyed a peaceful - but somewhat lonely, I have to say - breakfast on my own.  Then I was able to get a shower with no kids in the bathroom the whole time!  As I was heading to get dressed, Tom had a present for me: a weather forecast station.  Every morning, I ask him to check his phone's weather app to tell me what the temperature is, so I know how to dress for the day, and I've often said that one feature was the only reason I kinda want a smartphone.  But now I have this little gadget instead, and I think it will be useful.

And then what was perhaps the best gift of all:  As Stella brought me my toothbrush (which she'd just finished brushing her own teeth with.  Ugh.  She has an obsession with toothbrushes right now), I'm pretty sure she said "Mama" for the first time!  Yep, at the ripe old age of 21 months.  She already graduated from the babyish "Dada" to calling Tom "Daddy" months and months ago.  She also says the names of both her brothers, three of her grandparents, at least one uncle, and various animals.  But not "Mommy"!!  Perhaps I was just hearing what I wanted to hear at that moment...but it still made my day.

At Mass, there were carnations for mothers.  As we were leaving, I saw there were a lot left, so I grabbed two more.  I figure I'm entitled to one for each child, right? :-)

We had been toying with the idea of going on a picnic for lunch, as we've done in past years.  But by the time we got home from Mass, it was just too late to throw that together.  We needed to take our family photo and put people down for naps instead.

squinting from the sun

I ended up with a rare opportunity to go alone - well, Linus came too, but he's still no trouble, so he barely counts - to JoAnn Fabrics to hunt for the perfect fabric for Sly's future curtains...unfortunately, with no luck.  It was still so nice to be able to leisurely browse the store without all the kids along.

Wanting to give me the day off cooking, Tom decided we should walk down to a little local restaurant in our new neighborhood for dinner.  It was nothing fancy, but it was a tasty burger-and-beer joint, which is probably my favorite sort of restaurant anyways.

Stella's is the grease-stained card....she was eating buttered toast!

And when we got home, there were more presents.  First two sweet homemade cards from the kids.  In Sly's, he wrote out all the letters of "Mommy" and "Sly" by himself.  Not exactly in the right order, but by himself, which was pretty exciting.  I also got some very pretty jewelry (which Tom swears he bought on clearance right after Christmas, and says not to worry about the cost) and a handy stay-cool towel thingy.  I suppose to help me get through another non-air-conditioned summer.  We'd seen one of these years ago, and been impressed with how cold it stays.  Now I'm just wishing I'd had it during my latest birth - it would have been soooo nice.  So take note, any women who are expecting babies!

It strikes me as a little funny that some of the ways my family celebrated "mothers day" were by letting me take a break from my usual motherhood duties (such as cooking meals or...putting up with kids breaking into the peace of my morning shower!).  But sometimes those little breaks can be so nice, and - more quickly than you'd ever expect - make you miss being surrounded by your demanding yet sweet little people.

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Joining this week's Answer Me This

What's for dinner?

Chicken pot pie, kindly brought to me by one of my friends in my Catholic moms group.

What's the last thing you borrowed from someone?
The Story of a Family about the childhood home of St. Therese.  I enjoyed it, because I always love to learn more about this wonderful Saint.  But I feel that it could be improved by a better translation from the French.  Some parts read a little awkwardly.  And the author assumes a Frenchman's knowledge of the country and customs, which I do not have.

What is your favorite prayer?
The Divine Praises are an awesome prayer for reparation of blasphemy.  I especially love the last line: "May the heart of Jesus, in the Most Blessed Sacrament, be praised, adored, and loved with grateful affection, at every moment, in all the tabernacles of the world, even to the end of time."

What is the oldest thing in your house?

I had to consult with Tom on this, but didn't get a very satisfying answer.  We have a handful of books from the 1800s...but I'm not sure of the exact dates.

What's the best concert you ever attended?
This is a tough one!  I haven't been to a concert in a while, but P.C. (pre-children), I went to some good ones.

Andrew Bird is one of the greatest live performers ever.  I've seen him four times.  He's almost a one-man show.  He plays guitar and violin, sings and whistles.  He uses a loop station to accompany himself and create these incredible layers of sound.  The first time I went to one of his shows, he was just in a tiny venue (actually, the very lecture hall in which I was taking an architecture course at my college), and was up on the stage packing up his stuff afterwards.  I wanted to go talk to him, but chickened out.  When he came back to Pittsburgh that summer, I went to the show, and swore to myself that I would talk to him afterwards.  And I did!

I'm making him uncomfortable

Other close contenders are The Decemberists (the Hazards of Love tour) and The Moody Blues (who I never expected to get to see live, since they haven't really been popular since about 1969).

Do you have a nickname?
My immediate family calls me Chris (which I hate when anyone else says it, but they get a pass), and my extended family calls me Chrissy.  Everyone else calls me Christine (or Mommy).

The Baby Turned!!

I wrote yesterday about how nervous I was getting, at 39 weeks pregnant, having a baby that was stubbornly continuing to face forward ("sunny side up")  rather than backward.  Many of you offered your advice, experiences, and prayers, and I am so grateful - thank you, all.

I spent a lot of time yesterday evening "researching" what might be in store for me with a sunny side up labor, and getting more and more determined to get that baby turned around.  I kept coming across scary phrases like "long drawn-out stop and go labor" and "excruciating back pain."  The gist I got was: "yes, it's very possible to have a natural birth when the baby is in the posterior position, but OH MY GOSH do everything possible to make it flip before then!!"

Here are the primary methods I tried:

1. Going through the Miles Circuit, suggested to me by my ever-reliable doula.

2.  Having Tom use a make-shift rebozo on me (a bed sheet). It is a pretty silly-looking operation, and it was hard not to laugh through it.



3. Being mindful of leaning forward while sitting, rocking on an exercise ball while I did the ironing, and avoiding any sort of reclining position whatsoever.  I wish someone had stressed to me how important it was to avoid too much laying around during the end of pregnancy....you know, before I spent every night during the past few months alternately lying in a warm bath reading a book, or lying on the couch knitting and watching movies!

4. Fervently praying that the baby would turn.


I can't say exactly which of these was the clincher (though #4 probably played a big role), but somehow, miraculously, it worked!  When I went to my midwife appointment today, two midwives confirmed that the baby had turned himself the right way. 

I feel so relieved.  And as if I'm finally "ready" for this to happen.  Tomorrow is St. Joseph's Day, which is the day I've sort of been hoping for as our new little son's birthday.  We'll see.... :-)

It's Sheenazing! ...and Snow Days

So it looks like someone nominated my little blog for the Sheenazing awards (Best Blog by a Mom category)!  I have no illusions* that mine even approaches the awesomeness of many of the other great Catholic blogs that got nominations, but I am honored that someone thought of me and that I hereby get to put a cool icon of the ever-admired Venerable Archbishop Sheen in my sidebar!

Feel free to vote for me at A Knotted Life, and make sure to check out some of the other great blogs who received nominations.



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In other news, I suddenly came down with a nasty sinus infection two nights ago.  These sorts of things often hit me when I'm pregnant and my immunity is low.  I'm sneezing and coughing like mad, and my head is filled with pressure.  I still hesitate to say I'm "sick", since I have certain personal guidelines about what that means.  It's annoying to deal with, but I can still function.

But many of you will be proud to know that for the first time in my life, I backed out of two events I was supposed to go to yesterday (with my Catholic moms group, and which I was looking forward to) solely out of consideration for other people who I could potentially infect.  I'm slowly learning.

It's just as well that I've been staying in the house the past few days, since this is what it's looked like outside.

My husband and a number of his co-workers were given permission to work from home all week because of the snow and cold.  I've had very mixed feelings in the past about his work-from-home-days.  It's been mostly nice this time around, as Tom can help a bit with the kids during his breaks, and is already home an hour earlier than usual.

But it can be a little frustrating (for both myself and the kids) to have him in the house all day but *not* really available.  He leaves messes that I'm not used to dealing with during the day, creates more dishes for me to wash, asks constantly what we have to eat or snack on (I know for a fact that he eats at least double when he's at home than when he's at work - what the heck?), and won't let me run the washer/dryer while he's on conference calls (since he takes them in the basement, away from yelling children).  Yesterday as I was feeling all yucky with my cold, dying for a nap and literally crawling up the stairs to bed, Tom stopped me and asked me to make him lunch "before I left him with Sly"...and I have to say I was fairly annoyed!  All I had to do was heat up leftovers in the microwave, but still :-P

But marriage is about sacrifice, and I shouldn't complain too much, since he did take over the duty of sending naughty children back to their beds at naptime while I got to rest, and he even cooked dinner for us tonight (frozen pizza..heh) while I caught up on reading blogs!


* If you happened to read my first draft where I misused the word "allusions" instead of "illusions", I beg you to charitably chalk it up to pregnancy-brain, rather than stupidity!

On Being a Co-Mother

Some friends called to ask if we would be the godparents for their soon-to-be-born baby.  Tom and I have been on such a joyous high ever since.  I can't describe what an honor it is to have been asked.  I figured we'd probably be asked to be someone's godparents eventually, but I thought we were far down "the list" for a lot of our friends (who have siblings or closer friends who would probably be asked before us).  I'm really excited to have that special relationship with their little child.  These friends are already Stella's godparents, so now the godparent relationship will extend both ways.  It's wonderful to have this keeping our families bonded, even though we live across the country from each other.

I have a wonderful little booklet about Our Lady of Fatima (The True Story of Fatima by John de Marchi).  The young visionaries who saw the Blessed Mother were cousins, and their parents were godparents several times over for each other's children.  Throughout the account in this book, the children's mothers refer to one another as "comadre", and their fathers as "compadre".  The book explains that in Portuguese, these terms mean - as they sound - "co-mother" and "co-father".  They are titles that describe the very special relationship between the person who is the child's natural parent, and the one who is their godparent.

I think that's just a beautiful understanding of what it means when you ask someone to be a godparent to your child - you are asking them to love that child and pray for them as if they were their own.

An Announcement

We are expecting another baby!


I've known for what feels like ages, and it's been so hard to keep it in.  Tom and I are in disagreement about how soon to spread the news.  He prefers to wait...I think there might be more complex reasons under the surface, but the main one he gives is to wait for the risk of miscarriage to decrease.  But having experienced a miscarriage in the past, I feel like the more people we can get praying for the safety of the baby early, the better!

I'm due on March 25th.  It's the Feast of the Annunciation, so it's easy to remember.  Of course, my other two came a bit early, so this one probably won't get that birthday.  There are lots of other good feast days in March, though.

There was a bit of disagreement over the due date.  In the past, I have charted my fertility, though I wasn't doing so this time around.  Of course, once you understand how your body and your cycle work, it's not like you can unlearn that information.  So I had a pretty good idea of where I was in my cycle in the months leading up to conception.  When I went for my first prenatal checkup, the midwife calculated a due date based on menstruation.  I told her that date was no good: not only do I always ovulate late in my cycle, but in fact, I thought I could pretty accurately pinpoint an exact date of ovulation.  She didn't seem to trust my intuition, though.  There was a nine day discrepancy between our dates, and that was too much for her to feel comfortable with.  She asked me to get an ultrasound to confirm.  So I did...and guess who was right?  Humph!  I understand why asked me to do it, but I'm still kind of frustrated, because ultrasounds are astoundingly expensive (even with insurance), and we had explained that we were trying to keep the costs of the pregnancy down as much as was reasonable.

Anyways, thinking about having three kids is pretty exciting and crazy.  Somehow, it feels like a really significant number to me.  As if with three, I'm crossing some sort of line, and now things are getting real.  It's funny, though, because three isn't even that many kids!  But it suddenly feels like we're much more on the verge of being a big family.  Which is a little scary, but overall thrilling.

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This is a section where I would love some advice from other parents, especially those with bigger families than my own!

Having a third kid is going to bring some practical challenges.  For one, we'll need a new car (i.e. new to us, but definitely used).  There is no way we can fit a third carseat in the back.  Isn't it the most ridiculous thing that three grown adults could fit in the back of my car, and yet three tiny little children can not?!  Car seats are way too big.

I've heard some people say that if you buy just the right combination of seats, it's possible to fit three in the back of some cars.  Frankly, I'm not even going to bother looking into this.   I can't afford to spend hundreds of dollars on three brand-new seats when we already have three that work perfectly well.  Besides, we'll need a bigger car soon enough anyways, so I'd rather use our money for that.  Our double stroller already takes up the whole trunk as it is, so I'd love a little more space to fit all the "implements of childhood" we seem to have to cart around.

My mother-in-law is going to lend us her Jeep again this winter because unlike our car, it actually functions on ice and snow, and she's afraid of her grandbabies getting into an accident.  We plan to use that opportunity to sell our car - get some money in the bank - and then shop around for a used something-or-other with more space.  I'm pretty certain we'll have to tap into our savings for a house, which is disappointing.  But at least we'll have a little time to shop around for a deal. 

Does anyone have any family vehicle suggestions?  I would be fine with a mini-van, but Tom hopes to find something which is easier to repair himself (he tells me the engine on a mini-van is very hard to access) and also "less uncool" if possible.

We also need to figure out a sleeping arrangement for the kids.  We plan to keep them all in one bedroom.  Space and location-wise, it just makes the most sense.  But I'm not sure what sort of bed to put everyone in.  Based on what we already own and a few beds various people have offered us, we have many options at our disposal:  Two cribs, two toddler beds, one single bed, a set of single-sized bunk beds, and a set of double/single-sized bunk beds.   When the baby comes, Sly will be three and a half, and Stella will be nineteen months...so I'm thinking bunk beds will need to wait a few years (?).  Any thoughts or suggestions?

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My first trimester is wrapping up here, and I'm looking forward to some easier days (please, Lord!).  Morning sickness wasn't too bad this time around, but I have been feeling pretty exhausted most days.  It's been so much harder to squeeze a nap in now that I have two kids to watch.  And they were on completely separate nap schedules (!!!) for most of this pregnancy.  I was resorting to desperate measures, like trying to catch catnaps on the floor of their bedroom while they climbed all over me.  Until a week ago, that is, when I just could not handle it anymore, and forced poor Stella to adjust herself to Sly's nap cycle.  There were a couple rough days for her, but blessedly, they took place while we were visiting the in-laws, and I therefore had many extra helpers so still got my daily nap anyways, no matter what the children were doing.  Haha!  Things are great now, and I've had a nap almost every day since.

I also decided to wean Stella completely.  She was only nursing in the middle of the night, three times, and it was merely for comfort.  It was taking too much out of me and robbing me of precious sleep and I felt like I was just dying of thirst all the time.  So I just cut her off cold turkey.  Amazingly, she's been sleeping completely through the night ever since and for the first time ever in her short little life - around 11 hours!  It's pretty awesome.


Anyways, if you could remember me and the little one in a prayer, I would be very grateful :-)

"Happy Sly Day, Mommy!"

Mother's Day ended up nice, but the weather was much colder than expected (low 50's), so we had to cancel our plans for a picnic in the park.  I got a cute homemade card from Sly(/Daddy) and a pair of earrings from Tom.  

You can kind of see the new earrings here.  Sly's in a "hide from the camera" phase right now.

Sly had a running joke all day, insisting that it was actually "Sly Day" instead.  Tom tried to explain that pretty much every day is "Sly Day", and Mommy needs a day.  His response was, "It not Mother's Day, it Sly's Day!  I need a day!" One time he even said to me very cheerily, "Happy Sly Day, Mommy!"  Oh, that little man.

While taking our yearly Mother's Day photo (last year's photo is in my blog header, and eventually I might get around to updating it with the new one), someone must have bumped the camera while carrying it around on the tripod.  The lens casing was dented and it wasn't closing properly, so I called it in a report to the warranty company.  They ended up just reimbursing the entire cost of the camera so I could buy a new one.  It's a bit of a pain, but it should actually work out in my favor.  The "updated" model of the camera comes with a wi-fi receiver so that you can actually upload your photos right to your e-mail or social media sites.  Sweet!  That was one of the biggest attractions for me of owning a smartphone, so now this will help me resist that trend just a little longer [it's for my own good.  I know having a mini computer on me all day would be such a  temptation to idleness!]


I accidentally broke our coffee pot while trying to make coffee after Mass, and that is basically a tragedy in our house.  We drink so much coffee!  Despite it being Sunday and Mother's Day, we both agreed that it was necessary to go out and get a new one right away.  So instead of the nice picnic lunch originally planned, we actually ended up just getting lunch from the McDonald's drive-thru on the way to the store.  I know that sounds pretty lame.  But eating anything out of the house is a pretty rare treat for us, so even ordering off the dollar menu is exciting these days (on my last date with my husband, we went dancing and then to McDonalds for dinner.  Guess which part we were more excited about?)

We also swung by a beautiful old house that's for sale and we're kind of pining over.  No, we're not ready to buy a house yet!  I told Tom to stop checking out the real estate listings (something he's taken to doing the past couple days), because we were just torturing ourselves.  But he left the tab open on the computer...and when I sat down later, I found myself browsing the site too, "just to see."  Anyways, I found this house in one of the few neighborhoods that Tom and I can agree on and well within our price range (assuming we had enough for a down payment, which we don't).  The photos all had me drooling: a big old Victorian house on a corner lot, huge front porch, carving and fancy woodwork all over the staircase with a gorgeous stained glass window, six bedrooms, four fireplaces, moulding galore, spacious kitchen, and in good shape...ahhh.  Almost my dream house.  It just needs a bigger back yard.

While we were out, we also discovered a new Goodwill we didn't know about.  I didn't think that was possible!  We got in ten minutes before closing, so we were very rushed.  But we're both such experienced thrifters by this point, that we managed to fly through, blitzing certain sections, and came home with a few good finds: two of the older-style Usborne books, two short-sleeved shirts for me, a cute dress for Stella, and some replacement Christmas bulbs.  And then my dad invited us all to dinner at a chinese place.  The kids were both bad, but I pulled the "Mother's Day card", and got out of most of the wrangling duties.  Ha.

It's funny....Mother's Day is supposed to be a time for children to remember all that their mother means to them, and to express their love and gratitude to her.  But it ends up doing the same thing in reverse.  As a mom myself now, the day just helps me to count all my blessings and understand how fortunate I am to be a mother.

Easter Joy and Post-Easter Whining

We had a busy weekend, preparing for and celebrating Easter.  I was baking up a storm on Saturday, having to prepare two cakes to bring to Easter dinner and also making two batches of scones for our own Easter breakfast (at Tom's request).  Plus we had to cook and dye all the eggs.

Orange scones, inspired by the ones at Panera

Chocolate chip scones

 

Buckeye cake (with minor revisions)

strawberry cake

We were planning to attend Easter morning Mass this year.  We had reluctantly resigned ourselves to the fact that our days of being able to go to the Saturday vigil Mass (which runs from 10pm-1am at our church) were over.  We figured we would have to wait many years until all our children are old enough to hold it together that late at night.  But Tom was getting more and more bummed about it throughout the day, and finally decided that we should just give it a try, and cross our fingers that the kids wouldn't turn into crazy people.  And it worked out amazingly well!  We put them to bed at home, woke them up when it was time to go, and carried them to the car.  They were in their pajamas, and we brought their blankies into the church.  Both of them slept the entire time (Stella in her car seat, Sly lying on the pew).  It was probably the first time since Sly was born that I was actually able to pay full attention at Mass!

It was nice, too, having the next morning to stay in and take our time, enjoying our little family.  For breakfast, we ate scones and hard-boiled eggs, and the best bacon I've ever eaten (thick-sliced is the way to go).  We had an egg hunt and played with the kids cheap-o new toys from their baskets.  And then we went over my dad's house for another egg hunt and dinner with the extended family.  A nice day.

*****
And then, the crash.

Sly is experiencing a familiar condition today.  A few months ago, I termed it "Too Much Christmas".  Today, it's re-surfacing as "Too Much Easter".  He endured broken sleep for the vigil Mass on Saturday, a late night on Easter, no naps all weekend, way too much candy/cookies/pop to eat  (I hate how you can't control their consumption when you're at a family party and all the relatives are basically forcing the sweets on them!), and several days of elevated excitement and activity.

Pretty much the only thing that's issued out of his mouth all day is one continuous droning whine.  The only real words I can make out are mostly some variation on "Sly want candy." 

Here's a typical conversation today:

Mommy: "Sly, do you want a drink?"
Sly [whining]: "ehhhhhhhhhh"
Mommy: "Say 'yes' or 'no'"
Sly: "ehhhhhhhhhh"
Mommy: "Okay, I guess that's a no."
Sly [louder, and more urgently]: "EHHHHHHH!"

Which means that he apparently does want a drink.  Sigh.

 *****

Yesterday, I made the stupid stupid decision to trim my own bangs.  I don't know why I thought this was a good idea to do on Easter, of all days.  I've trimmed them myself many times, but I recently had them cut in a different shape that I'm not used to, and I really have no clue how to trim them.  I snipped one part too short, so then I wanted to even up the rest, so I cut everything else around it shorter, then I saw that another part was too short, and then.....you get the idea.  They look WEIRD and bad.  They don't swoop now at all, and they aren't even heavy enough to stay down on my forehead so sections of them keep popping up in weird directions.  Tom came into the bathroom, saw the horrendous job I was doing and said, "ahhh!  Stop NOW!  Put down those scissors!  Just because you're having a bad hair day, doesn't mean you should reach for the scissors!"  He stated matter-of-factly that I would have to just wear them clipped back until they grow out a bit.  Ugh.  I think he's right. 

But it's a testament to my maturity that I'm not really freaking out about it.  Though I have to say, it's still pretty tempting to go grab the scissors and try some more to "fix" it.

Anyways...that's why you won't be seeing any pictures of me from Easter day this year :-P

Living the Dream

For as long as I can remember, I've wanted to get married and have a family - husband, kids, a home of my own.  It began as mostly a default, when I was young.  Mommy and Daddy were married with a home, and so were the aunts and uncles and all the families I knew - that's just what people "did", it's what I knew.  Naturally, I thought, I would do the same one day.  As I began to grow up - specifically, as I became aware that I was growing up - the desire for a family became stronger.  This dream of mine was an interesting mix of a desire for greater autonomy (wanting to make my own way in the world, find a man of my own to love, establish my own household rules, decorating scheme, etc.) and simultaneously a longing to return to childhood (maybe I was too old to play hide-and-seek anymore, but, hey - my kids wouldn't be! I could pass on so many great memories, games, etc. to children of my own).  Once I was college-aged and out in the dating world, it seemed like a possibility that was closer and closer.  I began to actively store up ideas, asking questions of other parents, reading books about strong marriages, taking note of family traditions worth emulating - basically just trying to figure out what things were important for families, and what environment and practices I wanted to establish in my future home.

Even now, I'm constantly taking in new information, imagining how I want our home and our family to be.  I've been thinking so much of this beautiful future I've planned out, that it didn't even hit me: I'm already there.  This revelation struck me several times over the Christmas season.  The life I always wanted?  It's here.  I have it.  It's not 100% perfect, of course, and I hope I never expected it to be.  But I already have the right husband (sure we fight sometimes, but he's a good man and we are good for each other.  Our relationship is slowly, but surely, improving), I have a comfortable house (sure, it's "just a rental", but we've turned it very much into our home, and we're fortunate to live here), I have children (perhaps not the full brood yet, but these two already mean the world to me).  And those little traditions and treasures I hoped to teach and pass on to them?  Well, that's started happening too.  Over Christmas, Sly helped decorate the tree, we made pomanders, I had him add straw to the manger, etc. etc.

And yet much of the time, I just didn't "notice" that so many of the things I'd envisioned were already happening.  In my mind, I was dreaming about future Christmases, when we'd have (hopefully) more kids, and older kids, and all the fun things we could do then.

I spend too much time conceiving this "great" future, and so never let myself fully enjoy the present that I'm living in.  A present that, perhaps, is only as "ideal" as it is because of prior plans and dreams of mine.  But if I'm never going to appreciate it, then what's the point of planning and creating something at all?

To help explain what I mean: the other day Tom and I were sitting in our (new) living room after the kids' bedtime, just talking for several hours.  It was a real luxury we allowed ourselves, since so often in the evenings we feel the need to tackle chores and projects around the house.  I said to him, "you know - this room, even though it's nowhere near "finished" - is really cozy.  In fact, our whole house is pretty nice and cozy.  How many friends have come over and told us that?....but how often do we actually stop and just sit and be and enjoy it?  We're constantly thinking of new projects we need to start, and ways to make it better, and so we never actually appreciate what we have now."  He completely agreed with me.

Enjoying or not enjoying my house is one thing, but where I really need to be careful is when it comes to my family.  I rarely take the time to just relish the little moments with my family that are happening now.  It's fine to look forward to the future, but only if I remember to stop and notice all the blessings I already have, and to be thankful for them.

One Boy, One Girl...and Hopefully it's Just the Beginning!

Even while I was still pregnant with Stella, I started getting the comments.  You know the ones I mean.  "Oh, one boy and one girl - the perfect family!" or "Oh great!  Now you can be done!"  Thankfully, I haven't had to deal with any that have actually been rude (but I'm sure those comments are in store for me, should we at some point dare to have - gasp! - a three child family), just rather presumptive.  I mean, how do you even respond to stuff like that?  My method has been either an awkward crooked smile/shrug combo, or to mumble something like, "well, we'll see..."  Also, it's mostly been limited to the occasional stranger in the grocery store.  I really don't get out much, and most of the people I socialize with on purpose are other Catholic moms who have learned not to comment on family size.  Tom is out earning the bread in the public sphere, though, and has given me the impression that he hears these things more often from his co-workers.

 

baby Sly

It's just mind-boggling to me to think about being "done" having kids right now.  I've always thought I would have a number of kids.  For us, we think of this as "just the beginning" of our family.  For the record, I do believe there are legitimate reasons for needing to limit family size at two, or whatever other number - I just don't have the impression right now that that's what we're called to do.  But it's so weird to think that if we were following the path of the typical American family, we may well be boxing up and giving away all the baby clothes and toys as the kids grow out of them - knowing that we won't we having any more.  As much as I dislike actually being pregnant, I couldn't imagine knowing that I'd never grow a baby inside me again.

Stella

Yes, kids grow up SO fast.  But I think it's been easier for me to watch it happen because I have the hope that there will be more babies down the road.  This isn't the last time I'll get to sniff in that amazing new baby smell, bathe a little one in the sink, have my finger squeezed by five tiny little strong fingers.  So it's easier to just let them grow up, and feel excited for all the new things they're learning and doing.

Stella

Plus, it's possible that by the time I'm really starting to miss the newborn stage, grandkids will start to come along, and I'll get to experience the cycle all over again.  At least I hope so.

baby Sly

But I don't want to fall into the trap of presuming anything, myself.  It's possible that - through circumstances beyond our control - these could be the only two children we have.  But it's not the plan.

Notice I just used the word "plan".  I hate that.  I hate that I think that way, and that it's the word everyone uses when they talk about family size.  Because really, all life is given by God, and all life is a gift.  I can plan to have as many kids as I like, but that doesn't mean they will be given to me.  The reason it's such an issue, I think, is from the very real fact that a lot of people these days plan not to have children.  That didn't used to be such an easy thing to do.  Now, instead of married couples allowing the children to come when they will, it's assumed that each pregnancy will be consciously and carefully planned out by the parents.  Even the midwives asked me last time whether it was a "planned" pregnancy.  Tom and I just sorta looked at each other, unsure how to answer.  I finally said, "um, well....we didn't do anything to prevent it."  And the midwife immediately answered, "well, that means it's planned."  I hated that she had to put that label on it.  What does it matter whether it was planned or not?  This only leads to the trouble of "unplanned" babies being considered "unwanted" babies. 

Avoiding pregnancy is now the default, so if conception ends up happening, it's given the passive verb - "unplanned".  (Because of course, you didn't do anything to help make that new life, right?  There was no way at all you could have anticipated that an act naturally geared towards reproduction might possibly result in...reproduction?!)  But if the pregnancy wasn't an "oops" (because isn't that really what people mean by "unplanned"?), then it's assumed to have been a fully intentional, thoroughly-discussed, "let's-pull-out-the-spreadsheets-to-calculate-this" active decision to make a baby right now.  Tom and I understood, of course, that sex tends to produce offspring.  We realized - and even hoped - a baby might result.  But did we "plan" that?  I would say no.  Something inside me just cringes at that word for some reason.

Anyways, we don't really have a plan about our family size.  Our plan is just to be as open to children as is reasonable, and to continue to pray and discern so we can better understand God's plan for our family.

Baptism and Nuptial Blessing

One thing I forgot to mention was that right before Stella was baptized on Sunday, Fr. Josh gave Tom and I a long overdue Nuptial Blessing!  This blessing is typically part of the Nuptial Mass, however we got married the weekend after Easter.  And since Easter technically lasts eight days and takes precedent over all other holy days, etc., we had to use the special "Easter Saturday" Mass instead.  It wasn't really a problem for me having a non-marriage related Gospel reading, etc.  But we were both pretty bummed that the Nuptial Blessing wouldn't be given to us before starting our marriage, because it's a good one!

The translation from the Latin is as follows:

O God, who by Thine own mighty power, didst make all things out of nothing: who, having set in order the beginnings of the world, didst appoint Woman to be an inseparable helpmeet to Man, made like unto God, so that Thou didst give to woman's body its beginnings in man's flesh, thereby teaching that what it pleased Thee to form from one substance, might never be lawfully separated: O God, who, by so excellent a mystery hast consecrated the union of man and wife, as to foreshadow in this nuptial bond the union of Christ with His Church: O God, by whom Woman is joined to Man, and the partnership, ordained from the beginning, is endowed with such blessing that it alone was not withdrawn either by the punishment of original sin, nor by the sentence of the flood: graciously look upon this Thy handmaid, who, about to be joined in wedlock, seeks Thy defense and protection. May it be to her a yoke of love and peace: faithful and chaste, may she be wedded in Christ, and let her ever be the imitator of holy women: let her be dear to her husband, like Rachel: wise, like Rebecca: long-lived and faithful like Sara. Let not the author of deceit work any of his evil deeds in her. May she continue, clinging to the faith and to the commandments. Bound in one union, let her shun all unlawful contact. Let her protect her weakness by the strength of discipline; let her be grave in behavior, respected for modesty, well-instructed in heavenly doctrine. Let her be fruitful in offspring; be approved and innocent; and come to the repose of the blessed and the kingdom of heaven. May they both see their children's children to the third and fourth generation, and may they reach the old age which they desire. Through the same Lord Jesus Christ, Thy Son, who liveth and reigneth...

Notice that it mostly focuses on the wife.  I'm not exactly sure why, and maybe it's something I should look into more.  All I know is that I hated potentially missing out on some of these requested blessings for my marriage!  So it was nice to finally have done.

I also really appreciated that the priest took the time to explain the purpose of baptism and the meaning behind the different prayers and symbols to all our guests before we started.

With the godparents (yes, she was screaming throughout)

I wish my mother-in-law had gotten closer, and turned on the flash for this one!

This is the gown...

Which gets layered over this onesie-like garment (which is apparently called a "bubble"?)

You can sort of see this in the first picture of the gown, but we had it embroidered.  In the middle of the bottom hem in white embroidery floss is our last name.  We plan to get all our children's names and their baptism dates written around the edges.  Here's Sly's from two years ago.  Stella's will be added in pink, eventually.