Why I don't Exercise

Wanted to take the kids for a walk today. Just a short simple walk. Fed Peanut so he wouldn't be hungry half-way through. Put shoes on both kids. Couldn't find my shoes. Spent 30 minutes looking for shoes. Settled on a different pair. Found the pair I wanted on the way out the door. Switched shoes. Baby pooped. Changed diaper. Peanut poops. Change another diaper. Load kids in stroller. Go to get dog and realize he doesn't have a collar on. Forget where I put collar. Spend 10 minutes looking for collar. Put dog on leash and head down the driveway. Roll my ankle and go sliding down driveway on knee (in new pants, by the way). Make sure neighbor didn't see. He did. Go back up driveway so he doesn't see me start to cry. Lose all pride I ever had. Tell myself I was too far to turn around now. Walk around the block limping half the way checking on my bloody knee every five minutes. See why I don't exercise?

Following

If the spiritual life is filled with peaks and valleys, I am definitely in a valley. My prayer life is completely dry, and I am lucky if I remember to say my daily offering. Every night I kneel at my bed to say my usual night time prayers and think, "I hardly thought of you at all today, Lord. How easily I forget about you these days." I know we all have valley's, but I don't like them. I don't like them at all.

Last weekend we needed to attend the Saturday evening vigil mass, because we were helping with a pro-life university outreach all day on Sunday. I really don't like theSaturday vigil mass. In my experience, most people attend it with the attitude of "getting church over with" and come in with shorts and a Hawaiian shirt on at best. I was a little miffed at having to attend this mass, and even more miffed we had to attend a church I didn't particularly care for with a priest who reads canned homilies from the pulpit. Then my friend's words came to my mind. I remember him telling me, "pray to the Holy Spirit that He will give you some nugget of wisdom, no matter how superfluous the homily may be." So I did.

I asked the Holy Spirit for a nugget, and that's just what I got. Nothing more and nothing less. The kids were restless during mass and so was my mind. Just as the priest was wrapping up the homily I realized I had heard almost none of it and made one last attempt to listen. And then I heard this:

"And so you think of Him, but you do not follow Him."


Nugget. That short little sentence explains my valley. I think often of what I should be doing. I think of ways I should be living and think of prayers I should be praying. But I am not following. I am not doing, which is what following is all about. Following Christ demands action. Action that I am often to scared and down right lazy to take. But if I, a Christian woman, do not follow, do not act, who will? I am the salt of the earth. We are the salt of the earth. And it's time for action.
.

Gone Missing

I just wanted to let everyone know that I'm going on vacation (back to New Mexico) until next Monday. Sorry if posts are few (or none) until then! I'll leave you with one of my favorite saint quotes as I often like to do:

"Guard your eyes that they may not look upon anything contrary to purity; your ears, that they may not listen to evil conversation; your mind, by banishing from it all suggestive thoughts; your heart, by stifling impure desires at their very birth." - St. John Baptist de la Salle

Housewives and Homemakers

When we first moved to Oklahoma, I was already pregnant and knew I would stay home with our children. Because of this I decided there was no point in finding a job that I would need to quit in a few short months. I would instead stay at home. Most days I would sleep in to my liking, clean up a little around the house and then find somewhere I could go or something I could do. I blamed my need for escape on cabin fever and could not stand spending a whole day in my house.

Now, even with two small children, I tend to do this. Granted, I cannot sleep in anymore, but my days are planned around where I can go that day or what errand I can run to get out of the house. I am constantly stressed about the mess of my house and feel I can never have company over without many hours notice (to clean before they come). The laundry is constantly piled and the toys are never picked up. Every time I walk in the door I feel a mound of stress creep up in my body dreading the massive amount of housework that I should be doing.

For nearly three years I have been a housewife, but I have not by any stretch of the imagination been a homemaker. Now, when I say homemaker, I am not talking about the "home" that you take everywhere with you. Not the "home is where the heart is" home, but the house part of the home. It is time for me to start embracing this part of my vocation as a mother and wife. For the first time in my married life, I am starting to embrace my home. I am enjoying becoming more organized, getting in a cleaning routine, and discovering healthy recipes to cook for my family. It is a wonderful feeling and something I feel God is really working on in my life right now. With this new found love for homemaking comes a drastic realization of what a lost art homemaking is. How many women do you know that keep a nice peaceful home while still cooking healthy meals and tending to cleaning and laundry. I know a few, but not many. I have learned, the hard way, that just because you stay home with your children, doesn't mean you have provided a home for them. I consider this to be a woman's obligation to her family, and an important part of her vocation. Taking care of your children and your home is a full time job, and maybe we have just shoved in too many "extra curricular activities" to be able to enjoy it.

So women, put on your apron, cook a nice homemade meal for your family and enjoy dinner at the table together. These are the memories your children will remember. This is the home they will love to come to. The home that you made for them.

Liking and Loving

My great friend and I were blessed last weekend to have a weekday wherein our husbands were off work. It was a beautiful Friday morning, so we all decided to go to the Science Museum. I love going to museums on weekdays. There are no crowds to worry about and people to shuffle through. I don't shuffle gracefully with a double stroller. Anyways, as we moseyed around the museum we passed several rather large families. My friend commented to me, "They must be all homeschoolers because it's a weekday and they aren't at school." I thought about it for a minute and then agreed saying, "Yeah must be. I wonder why that is: homeschoolers and big families seem to go together most of  the time." Then my friend, in her brilliance, stated,  "I don't know, maybe because they actually like their kids and want to have more and spend time with them."

BINGO!

That statement hit me like a ton of bricks. I don't think most people like their kids these days. I didn't say they don't love their children; that they wouldn't jump in front of a car for them, I'm saying they don't like them. Now, please don't be insulted if you don't homeschool or have a lot of children. If you say you like your kids, I believe you, I just think you are a rarity.

I have been struggling with something lately. This whole concept of "mommy-time", or whatever you want to call it. It seems to be on everyone's lips, "I need time away", "I need time for myself" etc. I do understand that mothers need adult conversation and time out of the house to spend with friends away from their day to day tasks. What I think can be a problem is the attitude with which we do this. Are we really doing these things to enjoy the companionship of other women and bask in much needed adult conversation, or are we doing it to get away from our children? Do we really enjoy the company of our children, or are we just waiting for our husbands to walk in the door to "relieve" us of our duty? Are our children an inconvenience that takes us away from what we really want to be doing, or have we adjusted our attitudes so that raising our children is what we want to be doing?

I think the sacrifice of child-rearing is what keeps a lot of people from having more. Children do take time, money, a whole bunch of patience and self-giving, but what better thing to do than raise an immortal soul for all eternity? It's time for mother's to start doing what we were made to do. To pour ourselves into our families totally and completely. To start changing our attitude towards our children and enjoying their littleness. Sure, go out and have a drink with your friends every once and a while. But I hope you like your kids enough to miss them while you're gone.

Real Thoughts

Usually when I write I have sort of themed posts; something I have been thinking of for a while, and decide to write about. Today I just want to share some random real thoughts I have been having lately.

1. Two has got to be the most interesting age to watch unfold. I'm not talking about the kid, I'm talking about kids parents. I've watched at least a dozen times since my child turned two, parents give in to their children after fit throwing a whining. Not to say I've never done this, but I like to think that I'm the boss of my kid, not the other way around.

2. I watched today as my son imitated me in his speech and demeanor after I got annoyed with my husband and bickered at him. It hit me then that it's not in really big things that you mess up as a parent, but in the little, everyday things. I think kids can especially get screwed up when we don't treat our spouse with charity. This is where I fail as an example to my children and a wife to my husband. I'm quick to snap. Must pray harder.

3. I met a really great group of Catholic women this week (the Lord gaveth!). They go out once a month for a "Mommy's night out". Of course it has to be on a Tuesday, the day my husband has night school. Did I mention how much I hate my husband going to night school. I hate my husband going to night school.

4. We are trying to change the way we eat around here. It's overwhelming thinking of all the changes that need to be made. I bought a Vitamix thinking it would help us eat more whole foods. I had to have it in red, so I have to wait ten days for it to get here. It's been a loooong ten days.

5. Every night I go to bed feeling a little guilty about what I fed my son for the day. So many people say, "only feed him healthy foods and don't worry about his weight" and others say, "just feed him whatever will put the weight on him (i.e. sugary foods). I have been dealing with this issue for a year and a half now and I am worn out. Can you hook a two year old up to a feeding tube?

6. Miss Belle is already crawling (well, army crawling) and can get into everything. Where did my few months of peace and immobility go? 5 month olds are not supposed to crawl.

7. I'm thinking we, as a family, may need to start going to The Latin Mass. In these times of trial and change, I don't know how much more liturgical abuse and lack of community I can take. I find it funny that all these Novus Ordo churches (for those who aren't Catholic, those are churches who use the new mass, not the Latin) are so focused on community, but when I want real community and real friendships I need to go to a Latin Mass where the entire focus is solely on Christ. Valerie, if you are reading this, you were right.

8. We have been waiting for Peanut to start talking for quite some time. Now that he has, I'm not sure I like it. I told him we would go to the park today when his daddy got home. As soon as my husband walked in the door I had to listen to "Park, Park Park, Park, Park" for 30 minutes straight. I guess God wants me to have more patience. I think they should use two year olds for torture interrogation methods.

Turning Two

My son turned two yesterday. Two years old. How could it have gone by so fast? My husband and I stayed up late talking in bed the night before his birthday, "Do you remember how scared I was to have a c-section? Remember how cute he was when we saw him for the first time?

"Remember how tiny he was? How you could place your hand on his back and it would cover his whole body? How when you burped him, it felt like he might break?"

"Do you remember how we used to have to feed him with a syringe because he didn't have enough fat in his cheeks to latch on?"

"Do you remember how well he used to fit in your arms?"

"Do you remember when he first started sitting, and first started walking?"

"He is such a good little boy", my husband commented. I then started talking about how we should probably move him out of his crib and into a big bed. And then I started sobbing and saying, "no, no he has to stay in his crib! If he moves to a big bed, that means he isn't a baby anymore! That means he is all grown up and it's all over, and I'm not ready for him not to be a baby anymore."

And then I cried. And cried. And cried.

Tonight I mourn the loss of a baby and look forward to getting to know a little boy. Son, you have brought more joy to my life than you will ever know. You are my heart.

I love you,
Mama