Slowing Down and Teaching From Rest

"last day of school" 2016

We "officially" ended our first "official" year of homeschooling a couple weeks ago.  It went well, overall, and gave me a good - though small - taste of what I've actually gotten myself into here.  Overall verdict: this is going to require a ton of self-discipline, on my part, to make time for what's important each day....and not using homeschooling as an excuse to laze around the house all morning.

It seems that in the weeks before our school year came to an end, all the dozens of other activities and groups the kids and myself were involved in had ended as well.  I didn't realize how busy we had been until suddenly I saw myself looking at a full week on the calendar with nothing planned. It's forced us to slow down our usual pace, and find new ways to occupy ourselves.  

picking black raspberries

I'm trying to seize this opportunity to teach myself to slow down and just live - with intentionality - in the moment.  To pause and allow myself to take delight in my children and (perhaps even tougher) my husband.  It's really hard.  And I've failed at it more often than I've succeeded.  I am definitely a "Martha" and not a "Mary" - always wanting to keep busy, getting things done, and nagging everyone around me to make sure they are doing their fair share of keeping busy in the exact way I've determined they should!

I just finished reading Teaching From Rest, and what an inspiring read that was!  A short little book, but such a breath of fresh air.  I'd been spending the weeks since we ended our school year doing endless research and stressing over what the heck we should do next year for Sly's education, as he'll be starting first grade.  If I could sum up the book very briefly, the message is "Chill the heck out, Mama.  All those things you're worried about aren't actually a big deal.  Here's how you should be living your life.  Here's what your vocation is requiring of you."  I would not be surprised if I end up re-reading the book maybe every six months or so.  I know I'll probably need it!

Stella, loving a bit too tightly on a "baby caterpiller" she caught

The other day, I was washing the dishes.  Stella was in the kitchen with me, and began crying about something.  I can't remember what it was, but it was something I determined to be completely ridiculous.  As she usually does when her emotions get the best of her, she was asking me to hold her - "I want you, Mommy!" is how she says it.  And as usual, I was brushing off her feelings, and telling her there was nothing to cry about and if she wanted to be held, she'd have to wait until I was done with what I was doing.  Telling her, in other words, that she was less important to me than a few dishes sitting in the sink.

But I remembered some of what I'd been reading in the book, and realized that - unnecessary as her tears might be - she truly needed me to respond to her and love her at that moment.  And I knew that this need which was presenting itself to me was what God was asking me to do at that moment.  To tend to the soul of my child, instead of some stupid dishes - that was what was most important.  So I turned off the faucet, and picked her up.  I gave her a hug and some tender words, and in just a short time, she was all better.  And we were both left feeling love for one another - rather than rejection on her part, and annoyance on mine, as has too often been the case in the past.

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. 

New Perspectives on NFP

I finally got around to reading Simcha's book The Sinner's Guide to Natural Family Planning.

I avoid ever paying full price for a book (I know, I know - it's good to support the author.  But it's also hard to fit in our budget.), and I didn't expect this one to show up in our library anytime soon.  I hoped to borrow it from a friend, but they were all reading Kindle versions (darn that new technology!).  I finally buckled down and bought it on Amazon (it's selling for a really reasonable price, so if you're still curious about it, buy it!) because I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

I have to admit, I expected to hate it. Maybe I even wanted to hate it.  Despite all the reviews claiming that Simcha finally spoke the truth about the challenges of NFP instead of rhapsodizing about what a magical beautiful thing it is, I suspected that she must still be secretly "propagandizing" NFP - something I believe to be a legitimate, but often over-rated practice.

I was pleased to discover that this wasn't true.  She spoke a lot of sense in this book, and shared a great deal of wisdom - gained over the years of her marriage.  More than a guide about dealing with the challenges of NFP, I would say that this is a guide to how we fallen humans can live out a Christ-centered marriage.  Even though my husband and I are not using - and never have *really* used - NFP, there was still a lot for me to learn here.

It's an age-old truth, but something which has continually impressed me is the fact that with age and experience often comes wisdom.  Recently, I've gained a bit of understanding on something about NFP that used to baffle me.

I've shared some of my thoughts on NFP before (see here and here), so you might know that I'm pretty down on the way it is is commonly "sold" by Catholics.  I think people want so badly to provide an appealing alternative to contraception (which is always immoral) that they talk up NFP as being a positive thing, rather than the morally neutral tool that it is.  It's kind of like saying, "isn't it awesome that I got sick on Sunday and was dispensed from the obligation to attend Mass?!"  No, actually.  You may have been perfectly sinless in missing Mass, but it kinda sucks that you had to be sick, and I don't think it's anything to be thrilled about - even if it means you finally had a chance to pray five Rosaries.

At least some portion of my distaste for NFP came about because I just could not understand the motivations a lot of people had when deciding they needed to postpone another pregnancy.  Yeah - pregnancy and children are exhausting, but...who said life was supposed to be easy?  The primary purpose of marriage is procreation.  I suspected that NFP was often over-used by Catholics.  I tried very hard never to presume anything about particular people, but something always seemed "off" about the fact that pretty much every couple we heard about seemed to be using NFP to intentionally plan out each of their conceptions.  What ever happened to just accepting babies as they came - even when they came close?  Do you really need to jump right back into charting and postponing the second after you give birth?  Why do the midwives have to write down what sort of family planning I'm going to use at my 6-week post-partum checkup, and why won't they accept my answer when I tell them "none"?  I never understood the fear I sensed in other women over the thought of another pregnancy.

But then I gave birth to my third child.

When my first two kids were born - I mean the moment they were born - my very first emotions were this intense mixture of relief and "joy that a man has been born into this world" (Jn 16:21).  But when my sweet little Linus came out, I just felt numb.  Joyless.  Tom was weeping in happiness, our doula was praising my hard work and smiling at the beautiful baby we helped create, the nurses were all fussing over him.  And there was me just lying there, staring straight ahead.  Stiff with dread.  All I could think was "how many more times?  How many more times do I have to go through pregnancy?  Through labor and childbirth?  I don't want to do this for the next fifteen years straight.  I would like to never have to go through this again."

I'm not saying any of these thoughts were entirely rational.  And they weren't very holy.  But they were very human.

Even after we brought him home, my transition to caring for three kids - as I've mentioned before - was not easy.  It was NOT EASY.  For me to even admit this means it was a significant hardship for me. I am a person who is usually able to deal with stresses and challenges fairly well - I may get frazzled, but I never feel defeated.  But there were days this time around when I was not sure I could handle it.  When I felt like I was drowning.  I felt like I kept putting out feeble "calls for help", yet no one understood or listened.  Everyone expected me to be strong like always, and adjust to the new baby as easily as I had with the first two.  No one realized that I needed to be taken care of.

This expression of despair captures about how I felt

Tom and I have said from the beginning that we wanted a "big family" (whatever that means.  We don't have an ideal number - we're just thankful for what we get).  And we still do.  So it was hard for me for the longest time to understand why people could feel the need to postpone another baby unless there was some major major crisis in their life.  Why waste those fertile years?  Why go through the struggle and the hardship of trying to abstain and figure out God's plan each month, when you could just live out your married life naturally and let the babies come as they would?  Our grandmothers didn't have NFP to fall back on, and they had huge families, and seemed to be happy enough....

But I had begun to notice a trend on comment boards and internet forums.  In many cases, the people who were either the most critical about the use of NFP or the most fanatically impressed with it were rather young - with maybe one or two kids.  The ones who had the more measured and reasoned perspective on it were those who were older and often had many children: People who had endured the exhaustion and wear-and-tear of many pregnancies, but also felt pleasure and relief as their kids grew old enough to help and began to blossom into unique and wonderful people.  People who knew the anxiety and despair of an unintended pregnancy, yet had also found that those unplanned children were one of their life's greatest blessings.

I was talking to Tom only a few weeks before Linus was born about how I wouldn't be surprised if my perspective on welcoming new children continually changed as our family grew.  I realized that we could conceivably hit a point where we just felt too overwhelmed and as if we could use a break between pregnancies.  And now for the first time, I've had a taste of what that emotion is even like.

So I think I've gained some perspective now.  Every family and every person is different, and sometimes people really feel that they could use a "breather" between the babies in order to be a better parent.  (and I'm sure there are any number of other legitimate reasons for postponing a pregnancy, which I'm not mentioning now).  Most people wouldn't go through the struggle of practicing NFP unless they believed they had a legitimate reason.  Perhaps if they're honest with themselves, not all of those people do have legitimate reasons.  But maybe those reasons don't have to be as dire as I once thought.  If things hadn't settled down significantly for me this time around, maybe I'd be considering joining the ranks of those many confused women attempting to make sense of their wacky post-partum fertility signs right now...

But I am dealing better with everything.  Though life is still very busy with all the projects we're doing around the house, I think the toughest portion of the transition to having three kids has passed, and we've found a new rhythm.  (And um, can I just brag right here for a minute about my amazingly easy third baby?  He goes to bed at 9pm, wakes up once at 6 am to nurse, then goes right back to sleep until 10am or so.  It must be God's special gift to me!)  

So here's about how I'm feeling now: At this point, if someone told me "you are going to be handed a new baby in nine months", I'd say, "ok - things might be a little crazy, but I'm game."  But if someone told me, "starting today, you will have to suffer through another nine months of pregnancy, and then endure the travails of childbirth, and then have another child to take care of, making you the mother of four under five", I'd maybe flip out a little.  I really....don't like being pregnant (Tom is encouraging me to remove the word "hate" from my vocabulary).  But I do love new babies :-)

I still don't want to use NFP, and I still think it's important to think of it as something that is definitely less than the ideal.  But it's presumptuous to assume we will never have a reason to consider postponing a pregnancy.  Who knows what the future holds.  Who knows how my perspective will change as I gain experience and insights.  Seriously, I only have three kids now.  In my circles, that's a small family.  What do I really know yet about life and marriage and child-rearing?  Not much!  But I'm continually learning and growing.

On "Feeling Judged"

This year, so many of the Catholic blogs are talking about the "right way" to celebrate Advent and Christmas.  I've enjoyed the discussions going on because they are questions that I've been really pondering myself.  But in the past week or so, I've come across various comments around the web [do people say "the web" anymore?] that express extreme distaste over all this, and the belief that there's entirely too much "judging" going on. 

Some people also accused me of making them "feel judged" by my post about Christmas cards (and on reflection, I do understand why).  At first I got distressed about having unintentionally hurt people's feelings...but then I got pretty irritated.

"Why can't I express any opinion whatsoever without SOMEONE getting all up in arms and accusing me of making them "feel judged"?  Whatever that means," I vented to my husband.  "What the heck am I supposed to write about on my blog, if I can't share what I think about anything?!"

I've been reflecting on this issue a lot.  I want to say that ideally, when encountering someone's opinions which differ from your own, there would be two options:
1. You decide that their arguments are incorrect, and you still hold to your original opinion.  Since you believe the other party to be wrong, you don't really care whether or not they "judge you."
2. You think they may have some good points, and either change your mind or at least decide to think it over more.

But real life and real people often don't work this way. Especially when the conversation is happening over the lamentably deficient medium of the internet.

My intention when I share an opinion on my blog is not to belittle anyone who may think differently, but just to say "hey, I've been really consumed with this idea lately, and I've been having all these intriguing thoughts...maybe one of them will resonate with you, or you'll have something new to add!"  And my hope is that when I share an idea that someone disagrees with, they will respond, "well, based on this and this, I think your conclusion is incorrect" rather than "wow, you're being really judgmental." 

As far as discerning the proper way to celebrate Advent and Christmas - or any other issue related to the Faith - I fully believe that most of us are sincerely trying to figure out how best to please God.  And different families have different needs, and they may arrive at different conclusions as to what is right for them.  And I think this is great, and it's one reason I have gained so much from reading all the different blogs out there.  There are a lot of ways of living out the Faith, and someone somewhere will eventually share an approach that could be right for me as well.  Even if I don't always agree, I love hearing the thought-process behind different families' traditions and practices.

Still, I detest moral relativism.  The idea that "this is your truth, and this is my truth."  Truth is Truth.  There are some non-negotiables.  Those moral questions where I can firmly say "this is right" or "this is wrong."  But most of the things I touch on in this blog are going to be the lesser things.  The types where the most I can reliably say is "this seems to be a better way, given where I am, given what I know."

When I get interested in a new question, and eventually reach a conclusion, I often tend to carry it out "all the way."   For example, I developed a strong conviction that femininity was something important to embrace, and I began wearing skirts all the time.  I know that's not for everyone, and that's ok!  But it's hard for me to express my strong beliefs that it's a good thing to do without also making it sound as if I also think it's bad or wrong not to.

I'm sorry for anyone I have hurt by my insensitive expressions of thoughts on those "negotiable" issues.  I promise to work harder not to come off as "judging" ("whatever that means!"), and to keep in mind that what is right for me now may not be right for everyone.  And readers, I'd love if you could engage in the conversation when you disagree with me instead of assuming that I look down on you for doing things differently (and know that I am a sinner, and certainly haven't always or don't always live out my beliefs as I should).  I always love to hear different perspectives and to really work at understanding tough issues.

Thanks for reading this :-)
And thanks to the friends who still sent me their (lovely) photo Christmas cards, even if they feared they were going to be judged.
Blessed Advent to you all.

More Than Halfway

Tom's mom, aunt, and sister visited us over the weekend. On Saturday night, we were all just relaxing at our house, and chatting about this and that. Somehow, we got on the subject of marriage, love and relationships. We were each discussing how we'd met, fell for, or married our respective sweeties, and reflecting on things we'd learned from it all.

At one point, Tom made an interesting observation. He said that before we were married, he was able to prepare himself somewhat for all the major sacrifices that marriage would entail. He knew he wouldn't be able to do such-and-such with friends on a Tuesday night anymore, or to just buy something on a whim whenever he wanted, or to stay up all night playing guitar and then crash on the couch every night. And he could prepare himself for those sacrifices, and take the time to understand why they were necessary.

But once we were married, he said, he saw that there were so many little things - things he never could have expected or prepared for - that proved so unexpectedly difficult for him to give up, and not to complain about. "Like eating low fat mayo," he said, "because that's what Christine buys at the store." (haha. Well, it's healthier, so I'll probably keep doing that). He also brought up how he'd always preferred later "European style" dinnertimes of 8:00 or so. He said it was frustrating for him that I don't like to eat that late, and always prepare dinner for 6:00, right when he gets home for work. This is a familiar issue, because it's one we've talked about many times. But he went on to explain how he's really started to see the advantages to a 6:00 dinnertime, and it helps him to be a lot more productive at home. In other words, he considers it a worthy sacrifice, and no longer feels any resentment about it. I didn't even realize his attitude had changed that much, until I heard him telling the story to other people (I feel like this happens often!). But it's certainly reassuring to know.

I've found myself in a very similar situation these past couple of days. Just as Tom pointed out, I think that before marriage, most people are ready for the major things they will have to give up. I knew even then that I would need to give away my super-feminine decorations (such as my many gorgeous prints of half-naked Pre-Raphaelite women!), that I'd have to cook more meaty dinners, and to accept that Tom's pots and pans and (ugly) chairs had as much right as my own did to make up the furnishings of our home. I was willing to merge all our possessions and our habits, and had already spent a lot of time considering how that could be done smoothly and fairly. But when it came to the completely unimportant issue of merging our stupid mp3 files from our computers, I practically lost it.

Both Tom and I really enjoy music, and have large mp3 collections on our computers (all ripped from cds or purchased online, not illegally downloaded!). Anytime either of us uses the computer, we have music playing on iTunes in the background. When we were married, Tom was using a barely-functioning, on-its-last-legs laptop. And I had a fresh young one-year-old desktop. It was clear whose machine was going to turn into the "family computer." Right away, even before we were finished unpacking, Tom wanted to transfer all his music onto my computer (oops, I mean...our computer...). I had never even considered that he would want to do that, and frankly, I freaked out. I immediately went into a long list of reasons (a list which has been repeated and argued over many times since) for why we could NOT merge our music files!

My points were all pretty weak, but the prominent ones were these: I always listen to my iTunes on shuffle, and I didn't want a lot of Tom's crappy songs thrown into the mix; my iPod only held 30gigs, which was just how much music I owned, and it would be the most major pain in the butt ever to have to handpick which music was allowed to go on it each time I hooked it up for a sync with the computer; I had spent hours upon hours perfecting my naming/filing system, and Tom's music would come in and be all different and mess everything up.

We argued about this for months and months. We entertained the idea of running both computers through a network, and "sharing" our iTunes libraries. That way, we could access both libraries of music from either computer, while still keeping the files separate. But our poor computer know-how prevented us from ever figuring out how to do it. And then Tom's laptop finally crapped out completely, so it wasn't even an option anymore.

For months now, he's had his external harddrive, filled with his music (some stuff very good, some that I hate), sitting upstairs by my our computer. Every few weeks, Tom looks over at his harddrive, and raises an eyebrow at me. And then makes a comment about how marriage means we have to share everything, even the parts we don't like. And I usually just kinda pout and don't answer.

But this weekend, he finally did it. He transferred over all his music to the computer. He didn't force it on me, and I admire that. At the same time, I didn't say as I should have, "hey honey. I know you really miss being able to listen to your own music. You're right, this computer belongs to both of us now. I might have to deal with listening to some songs I don't like sometimes, but it's not a big deal. It's a sacrifice I'm willing to make for your happiness. Please go ahead and put your files onto the computer." This would probably make a better story if I had said something like that, but that wouldn't be real life. What really happened was that I became convinced - perhaps begrudgingly, but at least honestly - that Tom had a point. And without ever really saying it aloud, let him know it was okay for him to transfer over the music.

So now all our music is happily mingling in one gigantic iTunes library. And yes, for the past two days, his songs have been coming on when I listen to shuffle mode. And sometimes I skip past them. But how much trouble is that for me, really? He's very happy to have access to his own music again, and that's what should matter to me. I'm glad he was so patient with me

We ended that marriage conversation of Saturday night with a couple of ideas to reflect on. After listening to Tom share the story about the mayo and the early dinnertime, Tom's mom said, "marriage is not supposed to be 50-50, but 100-100." And his aunt added, "yes. It's meeting each other more than halfway."

Seven Quick Takes 2: Self-improvement Edition

1. I woke up early today! And surprisingly, I feel like a million bucks. When Tom gets up for work in the mornings, the sound of him getting ready always wakes me up a little. But usually just enough for me to be semi-conscious while he kisses me goodbye. And then I roll over and fall back asleep. But this morning, for some reason, we struck up a conversation about something or other. And then I realized that I needed to use the bathroom. And then once I was out of bed, I felt pretty awake, and decided I should just stay up. This was 7:00am, by the way. A respectable time to wake up!

2. I managed, this morning, to get work done for my cyber school job, shower, eat a leisurely breakfast while reading a book, tend to Sly's needs (feeding, changing, entertainment), do some laundry, go to Mass, take a walk, get a cup of coffee at a coffee shop, pick up a card for my cousin's bridal shower....all before noon! This needs to happen more often!!

3. I've come to an unpleasant realization recently: that I have definitely put on weight since Sly was born. I know, I know - it's to be expected that your body changes after you have a baby. But that's not what I mean. I mean I've been putting on weight since his birth. At my 2-week checkup after he was born, I was already back to pre-pregnancy weight. By one month, I was fitting back in all my old pants and skirts (dresses are a different issue. I still can't get most of them zipped past the chest!). But in the months since then, I've felt myself slowly putting on more and more weight. It didn't make sense at first. Everyone always talks about how breastfeeding is this *magical* way to lose the weight after having a baby. But then it hit me: it's because, while caring for Sly inside the house all day, I have become MUCH more sedentary than I used to be. I've been hardly walking anywhere ("Where would I go with the baby?", "Too cold to have him outside!"), and I definitely never go running anymore.

4. Now that the weather is finally improving, I've been trying to go out for a walk with Sly as often as possible. Even if it's just 20 minutes. It's nice enough just to get some fresh air, and sunlight. Vitamin D!

5. And Tom and I made a plan for these upcoming Spring weekends. We're going to drive to a different park around town each week, and take a long walk (and maybe picnics when it's nice enough).

From last weekend's walk in Highland Park

6. I've also noticed that I've been feeling tired and sapped of energy a lot. I know that's probably how moms feel most of the time (haha), but this was pretty bad. I'd been finding it difficult to get out of bed before 10! I brought it up at the La Leche League meeting I attended the other day, assuming the women would tell me that breastfeeding had that effect on people. But they all shook their heads, and explained to me that I shouldn't be experiencing the energy lack to such an extent. What it comes down to is, I haven't been taking great care of myself.


7. So to that end, I'm starting to pay more attention to my health. I'm trying to drink more water (especially important when you're breastfeeding). Also, I started taking the prenatal vitatmins again which I should have been taking all this time (the bottle says "for pregnant and lactating women"). Oops. The extent of my fruit/veggie consumption recently has been something like one glass of juice in the morning, and one serving of vegetables at dinner. Not enough for me, even. But - and I'm not sure if this is actually true, but it makes sense that it would be - I think my body might give priority of the the vitamins and nutrients to the milk for the baby. And when I don't eat enough of them, I'm left with hardly anything for myself! Which explains why I've been so tired. So, I'm trying to do better with that - eating more of the good, less of the bad. And I've been drinking homemade carrot-apple-parsley juice in the afternoons. It actually tastes pretty good, and is very good for you. It's energizing...and Sly loves it too!

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It's nice that this urge to make some positive changes has come upon me right before Lent. I always find it rewarding to be able to connect such sacrifices to the Passion of Christ, and have the extra Lenten spirit helping you to examine your faults and give you the motivation to correct them.

Seven Quick Takes is hosted at Conversion Diary

Needing Thanks

I read a post recently at Catholicmom that has put me in a reflective, examination-of-conscience sort of mood. The author writes about how when she became a wife, taking care of her house, she found herself constantly reporting every detail of her work back to her husband, looking for thanks.

"....when I grew up..., got married and began to keep a home for the first time..., something strange happened: I quickly developed a powerful need to make sure that [my husband] knew about each and every thing I had done in and for our home each day. Heaven forbid Michael would think I had not used every second of my day before and after work productively.

Through directly telling him or making little side comments, I had to make sure he was told about every grocery run, how many loads of laundry I managed to get through, how many times I unloaded the dishwasher; if I wiped off the counters in the bathroom, and if organized the bookshelf that day. And it really used to crush me when he forgot to thank me frequently enough (in my mind) for everything I did."

This really struck a chord with me. I think - very slowly - I'm starting to do less of this, but I know I'm guilty of it myself. The fact that there's such a temptation to account for how I spend all my time during the day probably stems from two selfish sources : 1. the desire of being recognized for all I do, and 2. the fear that I'm not actually doing as much as I should, and thus a need to justify all the "breaks" I get to take. My husband works eight-hour days, five days a week at a job where I know he's not slacking off...and he brings home a paycheck as proof of his accomplishments each week. I certainly do my share of work around the house, take care of the baby all day, manage the finances and run errands. But it's less obvious. A housewife's work often goes unnoticed. And that's how it's supposed to be - it's a great opportunity for formation in humility and selflessness. Really, if done in the proper spirit, it can help you live that "hidden life" of hidden sacrifices that I mentioned aspiring to in my very first post.

The author later quotes, of course, that most appropriate Bible passage - the one that sprang to my mind as soon as I had read her admission, and realized that I'm much the same way.

“Take care not to perform righteous deeds in order that people may see them; otherwise, you will have no recompense from your heavenly Father. When you give alms, do not blow a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets to win the praise of others. Amen, I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right is doing, so that your almsgiving may be secret. And your Father who sees in secret will repay you.” – Matthew 6:1-4

Making a Budget

We just found out yesterday that Tom got a raise at this job! It's not huge, but it's definitely a good thing. We are both very thankful, as it will give us a little breathing room, and hopefully allow us to pay off some debt (car loan, student loans) a little faster. This means that today I will need to sit down with our budget to account for our changed income.

Which leads me to the following piece of strong advice: if you do not have a budget yet, MAKE ONE. It doesn't matter if you're single, engaged, married....I think it's a really smart thing for people to know where their money is going, and to make sure they are paying off debt and saving for the future.

Neither Tom nor I paid attention to how we spent money while we were dating. We both tended to have a general "idea" about roughly how much was in our checking accounts. If it was a number we felt comfortable with, we went and spent it to have fun - we ate meals out, went shopping, saw shows....really, whatever struck our fancy. Looking back at that time now, we are both shocked by the way we lived so carelessly. I wanted an iPod a few years back. So I just went out and dropped $250 like that. My camera broke - I just bought a new one. There were periods where I got a coffee at Starbucks every single day. I went clothes shopping all the time. Occasionally, I might find myself with a little more money than expected. So I would transfer a hundred bucks or so to my savings account. But there was no method to it at all. Just last night, while eating a celebratory dinner at a restaurant (our first time eating out in forever), Tom and I were marveling about how we used to eat meals out all the time - probably five times a week!

I think in some ways, you shouldn't regret your mistakes. Firstly, it just makes you dwell on the past, instead of focusing on the present. Secondly, you did those things. There's no changing it. Without those mistakes you made in the past, you wouldn't be where you are today. You've learned from it, and now you can know better how to avoid them.

So it might have been nice if for all those years before we were married, the two of us had been carefully saving money, and learning moderation in our spending. But if we had done that, we wouldn't be the same people today. We would not have all the fun memories we do of exploring the city, having adventures, or of going out with friends and growing closer to them. It's impossible to say how things would be different in our relationship, but in some ways, they probably would. We learned about each other under many different situations and circumstances that we wouldn't have done otherwise. If we had never spent that money, we wouldn't know what it was like to go on a spontaneous roadtrip to New York City together, or see the Symphony, or play board games for hours while sitting in a smoky booth at a bar. Dumb stuff, really - but they're a part of our history. While I don't consider the money "wasted," I definitely have learned from my past recklessness, and intend to spend more deliberately from now on.

It took us forever to finally buckle down and make a budget. The subject came up from time to time, but we were never motivated enough to actually do anything about it. Our engagement, and especially our marriage, caused us both to become a little more cautious with our spending. We cut down on purchases, and some of our outings. But we still weren't monitoring our money at all. Both of us were working at the time, so we were bringing in enough money that we didn't hit any problems. But then Sly was born, and our income was suddenly dependent on Tom alone. While making a withdrawal from the ATM one day, Tom did a balance check, and called me with the startling news that it was very low. "How much was in there last week?" he asked. And I told him I had no idea. Which is when we realized that we really needed to start following our finances.

I sat down that afternoon to figure out exactly where all our money was going. On the banking website, I was provided with the transaction history of the past two months. I created a big Excel spreadsheet with different categories for the places that money was going, and began entering values into the appropriate ones. I was stunned to see that for the past two months, we'd been spending almost DOUBLE the amount we had earned. And so much of it was going to unnecessay things. I am so grateful we caught that in time!!

So now, we pay close attention to our spending each month. There are many ways to make a budget. If you read Kimberly Hahn's book Beloved and Blessed, she goes into detail about her family's system. They are very strict about where money is allowed to "go." Automatically, 10% of what they earn goes to a tithe to the Churh, and another 10% goes to savings. The rest is divided up into categories, which each receive a set amount per paycheck. It's basically the "envelope" system, where each month you have, say $150 in the envelope to spend on groceries. Once that envelope is empty, you canNOT spend any more on groceries until the next paycheck. I think this system might be good for some people, but I wanted something with more flexibility. Our "budget" is more a way to pay attention to exactly where each penny is going, and to cut back on anything unnecesary.

I have three major categories in my spreadsheet. There's the monthly income, the expenditures that are necessary, and ones that are unnecessary. In the necessary expenditures section, I include: rent, utility bills, loan payments, gas for the car, groceries, public transportation fee for Tom, money to give to the Church, and a "miscellaneous" category to which I allot $200 a month. Miscellaneous, but necessary spending might include an oil change on the car, turnpike tolls when visiting Tom's family, stamps at the Post Office, etc.. Basically, it's just a little buffer where I can throw in extra things that we needed that month. The unnessary categories are: "stuff" (a very catch-all category that includes clothes, thrift store purchases, hardware store supplies, trips to the drug store, etc.), eating out, entertainment, and gift-giving. Obviously, some of the "stuff" or "gift-giving" could be argued to be necessary spending at times (we're all out of soap and don't want to smell bad, or it's Christmas and we can't not give a gift to our parents). But they still stay in the unnecessary category.

The way we manage all this is that for each of those categories, I also assign a budgeted amount. We start with the value of our "expected income." And then I allot a certain amount for all the necessary things: rent, groceries, etc. each month. It's not so strict as Kimberly Hahn's method, where I canNOT go over a certain value, though. I try to keep within my budget, or even spend less, if possible. But say one month, we have a party, and so needed to go over budget on groceries. I'd consider the extra spending to be part of the $200 of "miscellaneous" that I accounted for already. After all the necessaries are accounted for, anything that is leftover each month (from our expected amount) is "allowed" to be spent on unnecessaries.

There is no section of the budget which forces us to put money towards savings each month. Maybe that's not the smartest idea. Right now, we have enough in our savings account to get us through for a little while, if something should happen. So any leftover money we find ourselves with at the end of the month ends up going towards paying down our loans a little faster.

I don't think there's one right way to budget. Different families need different systems. But my recommendation to everyone is that you always know where your money is going, and make sure that unnecessary spendings are not frittering away a significant percentage of your income. It brings such peace of mind to know that you will never be surprised by the state of your checking account. And it definitely helps you to become a better steward over the good things God has given to you.

False Humility

Ok, so this post is rather personal. But I hope that in sharing, others might be helped to recognize similar failings within themselves and be able to start rooting them out. Also, I'd like to ask any readers to offer a few prayers that I may grow to be humble in spirit, and not just in lifestyle...

As I mentioned in a previous post, Tom and I are renting the house we live in now, and recently renewed the lease for another year. It wasn't exactly what we wanted to do, but we pay so little for this place, and we still can't afford to pay any more than what we do. Recently, I have noticed the same sort of phrases creeping into our conversations. Remarks like, "ugh - I can't wait until we have a bigger living room, so we can actually invite people over sometimes" or "it will be so nice one day to have a backyard we can actually do stuff in" or "I really wish we had a linen closet for all these towels." Just lots of wishful thinking. By simply paying attention to the way we discuss our house, I've realized that we've been fooling ourselves. We really aren't content with what we have. That's a dangerous way to live. But I think in our case, it was an especially needed wake-up call. Because too often, I think we tend to pride ourselves on how well content we are with living in more humble circumstances than we really want to. But see, that's just it - if the whole time we are wanting for more, than we were really never experiencing true humility to begin with.

It's true that money is tight right now. But just because we live - in some regards - in a humble manner (purchasing a lot of things second hand, renting a cheap house in a cheap neighborhood, repairing instead of replacing)...it doesn't necessarily make us humble. True humility means being not only satisfied with little, but also....well, I guess being thankful for that little that you have. To be aware that you are dependent on God for everything.

And of course, being humble doesn't just refer to having or not having a lot of money. Even wealthy people can be truly humble. But I bring it up in the context of material wealth/objects because I think it's an area in which I sometimes perceive myself to have humility, when in reality, I probably do not.

I have noticed myself too often tempted to feel PRIDEFUL about my "humility" (two words which are exactly opposite!). To actually think I am somehow better than other people who spend more money on things than we do. Maybe I'm being a bit hard on myself, but I wonder if sometimes the comments we make to our friends about how we snagged a great deal on something at a thrift store, or how we can't afford to move yet this year are actually some weird way of almost bragging about how good we can be at "living humbly"? Perhaps some people do spend more than they should, or they do value material objects too much. But that's not for me to judge. It's obvious that I must not truly be content with our lifestyle, if I can't be fully content with others having higher living standards than we do.

I've noticed this recently in regards to baby objects. It's amazing how many products and furnishings are designed especially for babies. And yeah, people could probably get by without most of these. But at the minimum, I think most parents will probably want: a crib, a cradle/bassinet, a changing table, a dresser to keep baby clothes, a highchair, a stroller, a car seat, and of course clothes and blankets. In addition to that, they might want a bookshelf for kid books, any of the moving baby devices: swing, bouncy chair, walker/jumparoo, a baby tub, an assortment of toys and books, and any number of other little things for hygeine, safety, etc.. If everyone bought all those things, and bought them new, they would have to spend a FORTUNE. And what kills me is that a lot of parents do. I know for a fact that if people are willing to look, and willing to accept something secondhand, they can get a lot of baby items for dirt cheap. And every time I see other parents buying top-of-the-line strollers or brand-new matching baby furniture sets for over a thousand dollars, I automatically think less of them. I know I shouldn't. But this is exactly the false humility I'm talking about. I wonder if there's also an element of jealousy to the pridefulness...

In the past few days, I've been trying to attack these prideful feelings in small ways. I had a talk with Tom about the dangers of our wishful thinking, and about how just because we try to save money and get good deals on things we can't let ourselves think less of those who don't do the same.

I also realized that I was never really "putting my all" into my housework, simply because I knew that this house is just temporary. I mean, I've always been good about doing laundry and dishes, and those day-to-day things. But scrubbing out the bathtub good and hard? Dusting the baseboards or deep-cleaning the floors? Why would I want to waste my time and energy on a rental? I'll save that for my future home - a place we own. I've realized that this was, of course, only ADDING to my discontent with the current place. As a wife, and especially as one who has chosen to stay home and not work full-time (thus being, by definition, a "housewife"), I truly believe it is a part of my Vocation to care for my home - to keep it clean and welcoming and comfortable. And I see now that I haven't been letting myself think of this place as truly "home," and therefore have not valued it for what it is. It doesn't matter whose name is on the ownership papers. Wherever a family lives and loves - there is Home. [someone should quote me on that! ;-)]

So I've now been going to town on the scuffed-up walls (with my awesome Mr. Clean Magic Erasers), scrubbing the back of the toilet, wiping down the lightswitch plates...all the little tasks I expected to save for my "real home." Because for now, this is my real home, and taking care of it is one way I can serve my family. And besides, if I don't get into these habits of thinking and acting now, I may find myself never wanting to live up to my duties.

A Bitter Lesson

These days, a lot of people give their children "modern names." I notice that many of them derive from place-names (Savannah, Sydney) or family names (Lincoln, Harrison). I've also noticed some recurring suffixes on many of them. There are the -son names (Grayson, Madison), the -ton names (Peyton, Kingston, Paxton), the -er names (Gunner, Piper, Skyler). Tom and I do not like the idea behind most of these modern names. Not only are we traditionally-minded people to begin with, but our Catholic faith makes us desire to name our children after Saints or other holy people, instead of making up new names merely for the sake of originality.

A few days ago, feeling particularly annoyed at modern names after coming across several in a book I was reading, I sat down to compile a list. I titled it "Stupid Modern Names,"divided it into boy and girl columns (and I'll add that many times it was actually difficult for me to figure out if a name was supposed to be male, female, or both), and started searching my memory for ones I had heard. I was looking forward to sharing it with Tom later. I imagined we'd have a good laugh/sneer together, and feel a sense of bondedness over our shared distaste for modernity.

So later that night, I handed him the list with a smile. I said proudly, "look what I made." Tom glanced at the title, then looked back at me, asking, "seriously?" He began to quickly scan the list, his face falling into a frown. "You shouldn't do this," he said.

Immediately, I felt like a chastised child. I really had hoped to please my husband with my amusing little list, and here I was getting reprimanded. I no longer wanted to look him in the eye, so I angled myself slightly sideways as he continued. "Actually writing a list of things that annoy you will just make you dwell on it. It will only turn you into a bitter person. You shouldn't do that."

I knew he was right. But it never feels pleasant to get called out on something - to have to admit that your intentions weren't actually pure. I didn't respond to him. Instead, I dejectedly took back the list, and turned back to what I was doing. I just didn't know what to say.

But his words stuck with me, and I realize that I do this a lot. I often read articles about immoral things like abortion or the birth control pill, because in some disordered way, I think I enjoy feeling really annoyed and superior about things. So I plan to be vigilant about this from now on.

I'm glad I do have someone to call me out on things like this.

Why I Decided to Start Blogging

Inspired by the many interesting and inspirational blogs I've recently been reading on homemaking, housewifery, motherhood, etc., I've decided to start one of my own. I doubt I'll have more interesting ideas or stories to share than so many of the other women who are so much ahead of me in figuring out this whole thing: how to live a purposeful life of serving God and serving others through a Vocation to marriage and motherhood.

I live a fairly ordinary life. I live in a small rented house with my husband and my baby and our two cats. I have varied interests (in music, crafting, etc.), but no strong talents in anything, really. I am a "retired" high school biology teacher (I really only worked for one year), transitioning into a full-time housewife/stay-at-home-mom. But I still do some part-time tutoring on the side, to bring in some money (and keep my mind sharp!). I pray for the blessing of a large family someday, and God willing, intend to homeschool my kids. I know we'll never have a lot of money to spare - I don't expect that we'll ever make the same income our parents did - but I'm okay with that. I think it will ultimately be good for us, and especially for me, to have to give up some of my attachment to "things."

I think accepting an ordinary life is the first step. Giving up your dreams of having a high standard of living, or being the family who gets to travel to cool places, or building up a prestigious career. I'm fine being normal and relatively unknown. The hard part comes when you realize - as I recently have - that it takes more than this to attain holiness. Living in a humble manner is one thing, but actually BEING humble is quite another. It means accepting your "littleness" but loving and serving in a very big way.

I look for inspiration, firstly, to the Holy Family, of course, and to the Blessed Mother who lived this out perfectly. As St. Louis De Montfort says of her in the Preliminary Remarks of his True Devotion to Mary, "Her humility was so profound that she had no inclination on earth more powerful or more constant than that of hiding herself, from herself as well as from every other creature, so as to be known to God only."

Another beautiful example of living extraordinarily, even amidst ordinary life circumstances, is the Martin Family, that which produced St. Thérèse. The parents, Louis and Zelie, were saints themselves who provided such a powerful witness to their daughters of how to serve God through their ordinary lives and actions, it is not surprising that all of their (surviving) children went on to join the convent.

As this blog develops, I expect it will be mostly a collection of random happenings, observations, and thoughts about the random things I encounter as I learn how to be a better wife, mother, and daughter. But I hope throughout, my strivings to better emulate the Saints will be apparent.