Happy Birthday #5

I'm a little late on this, but better late than never!

Dear Miriam,
What indescribable joy you have brought this family! From the moment you entered this world you have been adored by everyone around you. You are not a docile calm baby but make your opinions known and "speak" your mind. There is no fear that you will be forgotten in the crowd because your strong and persistent spirit won't let that happen!

You are happy most of the time and if you aren't , someone is always ready to fix your problems. You love to sit and look at books and are extremely physically advanced. You climb on and in anything you find. Sometimes we see you next to an open box or container of some sort and you ALWAYS try to fit yourself in it! You love to be outside and walk around like you own the place. You have no fear of the chickens running around the yard and could sit at the fence for hours watching the neighbors' dog run back and forth. One of your favorite outdoor activities is to be pulled along in the wagon. Sometimes we find you sitting in there just waiting to be pulled.

You have a special affection for your brother. I always joke that you are trying to make up for not being a boy to him. Anytime he picks you up, you instantly lay your head down on his shoulder. You love to just sit with him and cuddle. You even let him put you to bed every night. You love to walk around the house with a baby doll in your arms, patting and rocking them as you go. You are extremely busy and like to get into everything around you.

You have brought so much joy, laughter, beauty and light to this family. We are forever blessed by your presence and can't wait to watch you grow!

The Birth of Miriam

On December 9th we attended a beautiful Advent devotion at the Bishop's cathedral. Grandma Valerie had flown in several days before and we tried to fill the days with distractions as we all awaited your arrival. We sat at the cathedral and listened to a choir that sounded like angels sing the old Psalms and heard scriptures read about Christ's coming. That evening, almost all seemed right in the world.

After returning home from the Advent devotion, I couldn't fall asleep. It was after midnight and was now December 10th. I was uncomfortable and tossed and turned. I decided to get up and use the restroom for the hundredth time and felt warm fluid drip down my leg. I knew my bag of waters was leaking. The time was 1:30am I woke up your father who immediately jumped out of bed (rare for him) and started putting things together. With my last two births happening very quickly, we knew we had to move fast if we were going to make it to the hospital. I had one real contraction and Max insisted on calling our doula and doctor. I hesitated, thinking that it was crazy to call anyone after just ONE contraction. He had no intention of listening to me, made two phone calls and told me we were going. Through the next three contractions I quickly put on some mascara, threw a few last items in my bag and complained about how crazy it was to be leaving so early. Max shuffled me to the car and we were on our way.

I rode most of the way with my eyes closed, breathing through contractions which were getting more and more intense. What I did see was several stop signs passed by and a few red lights passed. Max knew more than I did how quickly we needed to get there. When we finally arrived I asked Max to please let me wait for our doula to arrive before we went in. With the next two contractions, I started to make pushing noises and we both knew we needed to start walking, without our doula, or this baby was going to be born in the car.

Once inside, I made a beeline for the bathroom. In my primal state, I wanted to be in a tiny room where no one could see me. Looking back, and Emergency Room bathroom probably wasn't the cleanest place to choose. I waited there until Max told me a wheelchair was ready for me. Generally, I would have rather walked to the labor and delivery unit, but I knew that if I attempted that walk I wouldn't make it to the 5th floor with a baby still inside me. I was wheeled up to labor and delivery while Max made small talk with the tech pushing me. This annoyed me to no end, but Max is always polite and amiable, no matter what situation we are in.

We arrived at triage and I breathed through another contraction leaning up against the wall. I thought back to the sign on my mirror at home with a quote by St. Rose de Lima, "Pain is never permanent" and found strength and comfort in that truth. A nurse asked me to lay in the bed and get strapped up to monitors. I told her there was no physical way I could possibly lay in a bed. She didn't like this very much and told me for the sake of my baby's health we needed to check on her. I asked where my doctor was and heard her say behind me, "I'm right here." Relief flooded me. She told the nurses I needed to be checked right away as I had precipitous labors. At this point my doula arrived. Again, relief flooded me. I was asked to get on the bed to be checked and instinctively got on the bed on my hands and knees. I thought in my mind, "Whatever needs to be done has to be done like this because I am not moving!" With the next contraction I could feel baby Miriam coming down. Dr. L. checked me and said I was complete and ready to push, which I already knew. With the next contraction I pushed while placing my hand where I could feel Miriam coming. As her head emerged, I was able to feel every inch of it and control my pushing. With one more contraction, at 2:41am, her tiny body slipped from mine and she was lifted to my chest. She was pink and tiny and beautiful. Everyone in the room was shocked at the short length of the labor; 70 minutes from the first contraction to a baby in hand.

Miriam, you are a joy to behold and sweetness incarnate. I wake every day excited to snuggle you and behold the ways in which you will grow. I love you sweet baby girl.

Trust and Peace - A Much Needed Update

How has it been 11 months since I last posted? How have I not even mentioned here that this little one will join us in 6 weeeks?

Isn't he/she cute? I think so already. Look at that button nose. I sit here 34 weeks pregnant feeling sweet kicks all over my belly thinking about the year gone by. In February I went on a silent retreat where I felt God speak into my heart that it was time for another baby. And here I wait, with a swollen belly, ready for this little one to completely turn our world upside down. The word of the year has been "trust", and it has been tested for me over and over again. Trust that I would have a healthy pregnancy. Trust that I would find a good doctor and be at peace with delivering at a hospital. Trust in leaving our old homeschooling co-op to try something completely new. Trust that God would provide grace to become a better wife and a better mother. He never disappoints,  not even for a moment. Not only has there been abundant grace, but there has also been profound peace covering me like a warm winter blanket on a cold night.

The children are all amazing. They deserve to be written about every day, not once a year. Maybe the once a year writings will still mean something to them someday. Maybe it will help them understand just how much they are loved and cherished by this undeserving mother.

Peanut, you're not so much a peanut anymore. This year you turned 10. I had a mini breakdown over it. You who are my first born and my only son...how can you be 10? You are not only an amazing child, but an incredible person and friend. Your social skills continue to amaze me. You can hold a conversation with a group of adults and make them all laugh with your great sense of humor. You are incredibly intelligent. You retain almost everything you read and can spit out facts about history and things of the world much more readily than I can. This year you became an altar server and there has only been a few Sundays where you didn't serve. You love it. One Sunday, we went to the Latin Mass parish and you cried because you wouldn't be able to serve. You work so hard to serve well and I'm so proud of you every time I see you on the altar. You are an amazing son; always quick to help me. If you see me upset or stressed you naturally come give me a big hug to try and make me feel better. You are a wonderful brother and your sisters all love playing with you. I hope you realize someday how much they look up to you.

Miss Belle, I don't even know how to put into words how much you have changed this year. You are a deep thinker and always striving to be and do better. You are constantly helping me around the house, not because I asked, but because you have the heart of a servant. You will probably never know how much this means to me and helps me until you are a mom yourself, but for now, know that I'm abundantly thankful for it. You love to have a to-do list and to plan and write things. You have the work ethic that many adults still lack. I'm amazed every day to watch you pull out your school on your own and complete tasks without being asked. You love to go to social things and be with friends. This year you struggled with a small attitude problem and I've never seen an eight year old tackle a problem with so much dedication and hard work as you did. At 8 years old you were able to pray about it, talk about it and not let yourself be ruled by your emotions. You taught yourself to change how you acted or what you said, even though you felt like doing something else. It's been incredible and inspiring to watch. I'm so proud of you and proud that you are my daughter.

Jules, you are 5 now and as sweet as ever. You are still a sensitive soul and think big deep thoughts for someone your age. You are so kind to everyone you meet and will often put yourself aside to make someone else happy. You love to give hugs and kisses and tell mommy and daddy how much you love them. I hope you never get tired of that. This is your first year homeschooling and you are doing amazing. You are eager to be doing "big kid" things and often get frustrated with yourself if you can't do something perfectly the first time. You don't like me to help you very much, but like to be independent when you work. Sometimes I call you Snow White because you have such a way with nature. One day you spent two hours catching butterflies in a jar, looking at them and releasing them. I've never seen so many different butterflies caught in one day. You catch other bugs and things all the time, only to be amazed by God's creation and then let it go again. I love watching you grow and hearing all the deep thoughts that flow through your mind. Thank you for loving so unreservedly and with everything you are.

Sarah Cat, I'm mourning the loss of you as the baby. For so long now, you have been the littlest and that's all about to change. You would probably be mad if you knew I called you little, because you are sure you are very big. You have social skills like Peanut, the will of Miss Belle and the sensitive heart of Jules. You never seem to meet a stranger and everyone loves you. You can say something so matter of fact and confidently, but when gently corrected you ball your eyes out as if the world crashed down on you. It's truly fascinating to observe. You are such a light to this family. Peanut and Miss Belle will still hold you like you are 2 and Jules is always trying to get you to play "mom" wherein you are the baby. You are so well loved and such a blessing to this family.

Now is the part where I would normally promise to write more, be more, and try more. But after skimming this blog in all it's years here, I realize that every time I write, it's completely worth it whether it's been a year or a day. Sometimes I let the fact that I haven't written in so long, actually keep me from writing (as weird as that sounds). So, I promise to write when I can and find peace in that.

Happy Birthday #1!

Waiting for you to come out of your co-op class on the Tuesday before your birthday I hear a little boy telling your sternly, "Remember James, my mom's phone number is 555-5555" As we walked to the car I asked, "James, why was that little boy giving you his mom's number?"

"Oh! Because I invited him to my birthday party!"

"Who else did you invite?"

"Everyone in my class!"

Too bad for you, on your 8th birthday your dad had to be in Ohio and the "party" was kept to a very few people including Mimi and Papa. But if you had your way, you would have had every person you ever met there, and enjoyed each of them. You are so social and love to be around people. You are always up for play dates, shindigs and dinners with friends. I think you get that from your Grandma's side.

This year you have matured beyond measure in every way: spiritually, academically and emotionally. Sometimes I sit in awe of you and the young man you are. The curiosity you had as a very small child has not left you, and you know more about world history than I do, just from your own reading. Your attention span in homeschooling has gotten greater and made this the best year of homeschooling yet. I wish I could sum all of you up in this simple blog post, but you are too special and complex to do so.

This year you have taken a great liking to St. John Paul II and this seems to have lit a fire in you like never before. One day after listening to a talk about your beloved saint, you told me you were going to do a 40 day fast from sweets since JPII prayed a lot and Jesus spent 40 days in the desert. I honestly thought it would last a few days, but a week in and you were still going strong. On Sunday I told you you could eat sweets because we don't fast on Sundays. While biting into your cookie, you asked simply, "Mommy, did Jesus come out of the desert on Sundays?" You didn't waver from that fast the entire 40 days. You fasted better than I have in my entire life, offering your sweets up for the intentions you set out before you. This is only one example of the way you humble me and make me want to be a better person everyday.

A few weeks ago, we had company and a 13 year old boy (who we have known many years) was at our home. In the course of a year, this boy went from my shoulder, to towering over me. From a sweet high pitched voice, to a low man's voice. As you walk by my side these days, still hovering at armpit level, I know the days are coming fast where you will tower over me. As you reach out to hold my hand in mass, I know the days are coming quickly where you will no longer want to. I know the days are coming where our conversations can be more complex and I pray they are as open as they are now. I pray you never stop thinking everyone is your friend. and I pray you never ever lose the great love for learning you have.

Through this year of moving and transition, of having to say goodbye to old friends and making new ones, of experiencing the death of your BooBoo, of getting used to family being hours and hours away, you have handled everything better than I could have ever imagined and I am so proud of you. It's something you have done since you were little; if there is a problem, you seek to fix it. If there is a cloudy day, you will find the sunshine in everything. You always try to look on the bright side of things. You feel immense compassion for those that are suffering, and I have seen you cry FOR other people more times in your little life than most adults do in a lifetime. May you always find the light in the darkness, and may you continue to be a shining star in this world. I love you my son!

Mommy

And Then He Was 7

Dear #1,
Today you are seven. You amaze me more and more every day. This year especially, I am so thankful to celebrate with you.  I am so proud of the person you are growing into. The more years I am a mother, the more I realize that your goodness is more about HIS goodness and less about my specific parenting techniques and abilities. You are one of the greatest gifts God ever gave me and I feel unworthy to the calling of raising you. I hope you know this every day of your life.

You remain as social as ever. You love nothing more than getting to go hang out with friends, or having a big dinner at our house. You say hi to everyone you come across and all people are your friends. You love to talk. And talk and talk. Your topics of conversation are becoming deeper by the day and I enjoy answering your well thought out questions. Your favorite person to be with is Daddy. You want to be just like him. You even started sleeping in your underwear just so you could be more like him. Everyday when he comes home you joyfully shout, "DADDY!" and run to give him a hug.

School comes easy for you. You are smart and get things without much explaining or teaching. We have seen a marked improvement in the way you play with #2 this year; something we thought may never happen. You are growing kinder and more self controlled by the day and I am so proud of you. You love competition; but not for the sake of winning, but for the sake of having fun and meeting new people. Often times on the soccer field you will choose to talk to a friend instead of playing the game. You are fearless when it comes to trying new things. You will jump into anything that sounds fun, even if you have to do it all by yourself. I love this about you.

You always try to stand for what is right and, more importantly, do what is right. You care about big issues at a young age and you aren't afraid to talk with people about them. The other day at breakfast you asked the lady sweeping the floors, "Excuse me, are you Catholic?" We went on to have a very nice conversation about the woman's beliefs. This is a skill and ability most people lose as they grow older. I hope you never do. I hope you always see people for their goodness and never hide a hello or  a smile. I hope you never lose your ability to say what you think is right, even if it makes people uncomfortable. This year you have been begging us to receive your first holy communion and working very hard at your behavior in mass to get there. I love how anxious you are to become one with Christ. Every night after I put #3 to bed, you call me to your room and say, "I forgot to give you a blessing, hug and goodnight kiss!" Then you proceed to hug, kiss and bless my forehead. It's one of my favorite parts of the day with you.

I love you, son. I know I'm not always the perfect mom. Please forgive me for the times I have yelled, lost my temper, or not listened well to you. Know that every day I love you a little more and every day you help me to be the best person I can be. I hope that I can do the same for you!

Love,
Mommy

Teachers

I am often amazed at how much my children teach me everyday. It's no wonder God loves little ones and calls us to be like them. Have you seen how qucikly these little people can make friends? It takes 5 minutes at the park and my kids have friends they think they have known for years. When they see another child playing, they don't worry about how their personalities will fit, or where he/she came from. They see every other child (and adult for that matter) as just another human being deserving to be treated kindly and one worthy of play. At what point in life do we lose this awesome view of the world?

As we were returning home from a much needed vacation last week, we stopped at In n' Out to have dinner. The kind staff gave my kids sticker pictures to work on as we waited for our food. As we sat there and #1 finished his picture, a little boy came up to him from the table behind him, looked at his finished picture and said, "Wow! That looks like a really bad picture!" My mommy defense instantly kicked in and I waited for my son to have his feelings hurt and respond as such. But before I could say anything, #1 simply said, "Yeah! Yours is much better than mine!" The little boy thanked him and sat back at his table. I was still upset that someone insulted my little boy's picture that he worked hard on. I was about to tell #1 that he shouldn't let people insult him like that and he should be proud of his work when I had to stop myself. This wasn't a teaching opportunity for me to have with my child, it was a teaching opportunity for my child to have with me. I instantly wanted to instill pride in him and have him not admit that anyone could do better than him. #1 on the other hand, in his childlike humility, saw things for exactly what they were. The other boys picture was better, and he could admit it. His first thought was not to defend himself, but to look at the evidence and hand out a compliment. How different could so many situations in my life be if I could respond that way? With my first honest reaction being one of charity instead of defensiveness and envy and pride? I hope he can hang on to that charity and humility his whole life; and I hope it's not his mother that teaches him he should be any other way.

A Day to Remember

This post deserves a picture. When I tried to take one the batteries had been removed from the camera and we were already running late. This was our first
"real" day in our new lives here in New Mexico. The move went smoothly and was a lot of really hard work. Last week was spent unpacking and getting settled. Today was my husband's first day at his new assignment and Peanut's first day of pre-school. Big day.

Let me back up. When we visited here in November a good friend of mine told me about a newly opened Catholic school that has a pre-K class for three year olds. I had been wanting to put Peanut in a mother's day out program in Oklahoma but was refused because he is not fully vaccinated. Surely the Catholics would understand me not using vaccines with aborted fetal cell tissue. So we looked into it, visited the classroom and fell in love with it all. Our intention is still to home school when our children get older, but this seemed like a good way for Peanut to socialize and learn how to behave in a structured environment. A bonus is that we love his teacher.

So anyways, today was his first day. He was so cute with his little backpack all ready to go. The only problem was Miss Belle thought she was going with him. This entire week, every time the word "school" is mentioned she yells, "ME!!!!" and points to her chest. This morning she got her back pack all ready, because anything Peanut does, she follows. When we dropped him off at school he exclaimed, "I want to stay here at school!" so Miss Belle and I said our goodbyes and ventured back to the car. She was not happy at all. She must have really thought all the "ME!!!"s were going to land her a place in pre-school next to her brother. She cried the whole way home. It was really the first time my children have done something apart from each other that I can remember.

I haven't heard an update on my how my husband's first day is going, but I assume it's going well. Life is starting to feel "normal" here as we settle into a routine. Thank you to everyone who prayed for a safe move and smooth transition.

Top Ten Phrases I Never Thought Would Come Out of My Mouth

Along the journey of motherhood some pretty wild statements have come from my mouth. It's amazing what kids cause you to say in certain moments (and I'm not talking about profanity here). Somewhere along the journey I started keeping a list of all the crazy stuff that comes out of my mouth. Here are the top ten:

10."Don't hit the roof with your stick." (Peanut playing with a stick in his carseat)
9. "Don't ride your sister like a horse." (You can figure that one out yourself)
8. "Get that fork out of your nose." (Again, no explanation needed)
7. "Stop licking the frisbee."
6. "I can't, I can't talk about "Go Dog, Go!" and listen to Bible study!" (We were on a roadtrip trying to explain a book to Peanut and listen to Scott Hahn teach the book of James,
5. "Don't fling your oatmeal like a priest." (Peanut was pretending to be the priest sprinkling holy water on the people at mass...with his oatmeal)
4. "The Gospel is not in your nose." (Peanut was trying to bless his "mind, lips and heart" like we do in Mass before the Gospel. Guess he wanted to throw his nose in there too.)
3. "What is Nemo doing in the cheese?" (Yeah, I don't know either.)
2. "How did St. Therese get in the trash can?" (Turns out Miss Belle put her there.)
1. "Please keep your blueberries off the baby Jesus" (Peanut was playing with a small nativity scene while eating in his high chair.)

Now who ever thought blueberries and baby Jesus would end up in the same sentence?

Why We Don't Have Cable

We don't have cable in our house, and by "don't have cable" I mean we don't have one single channel on our TV. Just black fuzzy stuff. The thought of getting cable has crossed my mind a time or two, but it was once again put to death after our vacation last month.

On our trip to Colorado and New Mexico, we had more time in front of a television than we have had in a long time. So did our children. At our hotel while getting ready I turned on a cartoon for Peanut and thought, "Hey why not? He never watches cable." This happened three different times, and three times I wished I hadn't turned it on.

Show number one: Disney Channel. Turned on a cartoon that was in half english, half spanish. The ENTIRE episode was about water conservation and saving the environment. The show used some pretty extreme fear tactics including have a character move out of her home because she couldn't water her garden anymore. I'm not against water conservation. I'm not against doing things that help our environment. But the truth is, my two year old son really doesn't need to learn that from the cartoon on TV. Can't we just keep it to a cute story about sharing or using your manners? I'll teach my son how to turn off the water when he is brushing his teeth without making him fear that he will go thirsty for the rest of his life if he doesn't. And I'll do it in English. 

Show number two: Disney Channel (again). A "family" show about siblings. One of the brothers is trying to master his wizard skills. WIZARD SKILLS! Seriously, I don't remember this stupid stuff when I was growing up. Not only do I have a problem with the moral aspects of wizards, witchcraft and all such things, but also with the fact that Disney tries to make it look cool and normal for kids to go around with sticks and manipulate their environment however they see fit without ANY mention of God. It's not in the context of imaginative play, but in the context of reality.  Now I wasn't expecting Disney to mention God, but I was expecting a little something more like Mickey Mouse or the Mighty Ducks.

Show number three: The Cartoon Network gets turned on for Peanut at my parents house. A nearly pornographic commercial of Lady GaGa comes on in between cartoons. What in the world do cartoon watching aged kids have to do with Lady GaGa? Am I missing something? The commercial showed her in barely a bra and underwear doing extremely sexual dance moves! On Cartoon Network! 

I know some parents say they monitor very well what their children watch. And I believe that. But I don't trust the television industry enough to let them anywhere near my home. We only get one shot at innocence, and to have it taken away in the snap of a finger on a TV station that was supposed to be "kid friendly" is not going to happen in this house. The truth is, we don't know when little boys start viewing women sexually, or when little girls start thinking that they should look just like that model on TV. I am not willing to take the risk of assuming my kids "don't get it" only to find out they were negatively influenced by the shows I put on for them. I know my kids will come in contact with some of the scenarios on TV in their everyday lives, and I'm not trying to put them in a bubble to shelter them from that forever. But I am not willing to let cable television form the way my children think and respond to those situations. I will decide when things are "age appropriate" and explain things in the context of our faith, not in the context of a television show.

Toys Toys Toys

This past Christmas had my husband and I thinking a lot about the things we own, specifically the toys we own. As first time parents we really are clueless as to what kind of toys a two year old likes, and I can count the number of toys on my hand that we have bought for my son. Most of Peanut's toys have been given to him by friends and relatives. The problem is, he doesn't really play with them much. I solved the possibility of having an overwhelming amount of toys by giving many away and putting the rest in organizers and only letting a few toys out at a time. I thought that would do it. Nope, still not playing very much.

On our very long drive back from our Christmas vacation, my husband suggested, once again, that Peanut had too many toys. I argued that he didn't have the right kind of toys. My husband then said something that, in my eyes at least, was very profound, "Peanut has toys he plays with, but not toys he uses to play". Maybe to many of you this sounds crazy or redundant, but it made perfect sense to me. What happened to toys kids use to play and why are they so rare and hard to find?

Try walking down a toy isle and finding a toy that doesn't sing, talk, dance, light up or fly. There is a very small selection. Who needs imagination when a toy action figure now talks, lights up and moves for the kid? Moreover, think about your favorite toys as a child. Were they the ones that made the most noise or had the most lights? No, our favorite toys growing up were the ones that we created. The simple stuffed animal that could be a rocket man, doctor or baby at any given point. The toys that had personality and characteristics that we invented and only we knew the extent of. Toys today come talking and walking with a personality of their own, leaving no room for imagination.

When we got home, we cleared out most of our sons toys that sing, dance and that he hardly plays with. We then took some Christmas money my mother had given to him specifically for toys, and headed to the toy store. We paid a higher dollar for the quality wooden and plain toys we bought, but found comfort knowing that they would stimulated Peanut and Miss Belle's imagination for years to come. One particular toy we bought was a little dump truck with a man sitting in the front seat. No sounds, whistles or motors. Peanut says he's the trash man. He hasn't put the thing down in two days.

Extreme Teething

What, you haven't heard of it? Apparently it's the latest baby craze. What these babies are doing is one day they just completely stop eating and cause their mother to become painfully engorged. Then they worry their parents to death by not eating for another four days except for a few sips from a syringe here and there. They worry their parents so much that they decide to take them to the emergency room because their doctor told them that the baby is probably dehydrated. When the baby gets to the emergency room the doctor will explain to their parents that the reason for the eating strike is teething. That's right, the silly parents went to the emergency room for teething. The parents try to explain to the doctors that, really, they don't care about the teething, they just want to make sure the baby is hydrated, but to no avail. The doctors keep trying to solve the teething problem, and then finally administer IV fluids as if to make the parents feel like there was a REAL reason for coming to the emergency room.

My daughter doesn't do anything half-a**. Not even teething. I kind of love that about her, as stupid as it makes me look sometimes. Who goes to the ER for teething...

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.

My Second Conscious

There are many expectations I had when I found out I was a mother, but one aspect of motherhood I did not expect was how often my children bring me to my knees. I'm not talking about falling to my knees because of parental failings (which happen often I assure you), but more because my children convict me every single day. Especially these days.

Peanut has entered the "imitation" phase of childhood. You know, the one where he likes to copy everything I do and (at least attempt) to repeat everything I say?  Yeah, that one. Anyways, I found out he had entered this phase the other day after I had a kids movie playing on the television. An innocent children's movie that I put on while trying to get him to drink some pediasure. In one scene in this movie, a male character becomes angry and starts yelling and throwing his fist in the air. After I turned the film off, my 22 month old son went around for a good half hour yelling and throwing his fist up in the air. Wow. The other day I dropped something and let the S-H word slip from my lips and my son promptly said it right after me (this is the kid who says all of 4 words). Great. And then there was me yelling at my husband from our living room to bring me a diaper in a somewhat annoyed tone. Peanut, sitting right next to me, yells and points his finger in the direction of his father.

Having a two year old who imitates things is like having a spiritual mirror to look into every day. I no longer have to make a long examination of conscious before confession because my son is always reminding me of how I fail everyday when he imitates actions that are obviously not virtuous. When people tell you they are like little sponges, this is no exaggeration. I will no longer ever use the excuse,  "oh, it doesn't matter he is too young to understand" when watching a movie or listening to something I maybe shouldn't. Furthermore, this has me thinking, if I don't like Peanut to imitate this action, should I really be doing it or watching it in the first place? Society today has this crazy mentality that you have to be a certain age of "maturity" to sin. Take PG-13 movies for instance; all this is really saying is that society thinks that 13 is a decent age to introduce your kids to sex, violence and cussing. But should any of us really be watching these sort of things? 

I think everyone needs a little toddler to follow them around and imitate their every action. Surely people would act better. As for me, I will be forever grateful to my son for opening my eyes to the things I need to change about myself. This little tiny child makes me a better person everyday. Now that's humbling...

You Know Your Kid Is Catholic When

I recently bought Peanut a toilet training potty. Not necessarily because he is ready to be trained, but just to get him used to the idea of sitting on the potty. Brilliant me decided to actually put him on the potty and see if he would go (secretly wishing I had some prodigy child who would magically train himself after one use). After about 5 minutes of waiting for him to go, I decided to let some warm water flow on his legs to stimulate him to go. I took a cup of water and let it flow on his thigh into the training potty and waited. Peanut, with a curious look on his face, looks at the water, then at me, then at the water again. I could tell his brain was working. He then reached between his tiny legs into the water and brought his hand up to make a very reverent Sign of the Cross. I guess you know your kid is Catholic when he thinks his training potty is a holy water font. Maybe he is further away from understanding the whole potty training concept than I thought.

Parental Failings

Tonight was a rough night. My husband goes to school twice a week which means I am alone putting the kids to bed. The rest of the day is fine; it's bedtime that always gets me. Peanut was exceptionally whiny this evening and I attempted to put him to bed at the normal time. If I haven't mentioned it before, I should mention now that Peanut doesn't say much yet; he uses some baby sign, but doesn't say many words. This, often times, leads to him being frustrated that I don't know what he is saying, and me being frustrated that I don't know what he is saying. He can communicate quite a bit with sign, but not everything. Tonight was no exception. As I placed him in his crib (while holding Miss Belle in my arms. Did I mention she doesn't like to be put down?) he was still whining/crying and kept signing "ball" and "daddy". I had no idea what he was trying to say and he was very upset about it. Long story short, after about thirty minutes of him crying, Miss Belle crying and trying to figure out what he needed, I lost it for a moment. I hate when my emotions control my actions. To be honest it is a rare occasion for me, but when it happens it is usually a quick blow up and then a quick cool down. I was so frustrated that I decided to give up on bedtime. I grabbed Peanut out of his crib, pushed his little back and told him to get out of his room in a not so nice tone of voice. He was nothing less than hysterical.

As I held my screaming daughter and watched Peanut ball his eyes out, I was reminded once again: he is little. He doesn't understand why mommy is frustrated or why she isn't being nice to him. He just continues to try and communicate in the only and best way he knows how. I know a lot of people would say this isn't a big deal, that we all loose our tempers sometimes. But the guilt one can feel after intentionally treating their child in an unkind and irrational way is only something another parent could understand. How I treat my children now is important whether they remember it or not. In these formative years, they will learn how to function in society and how to treat other people. More importantly, the way my husband and I treat our children will affect the way they see their heavenly Father and mother.

My children are young and there are many years to come in their formation. When my part is finished, I want my children to hear the word mother and think of a kind, compassionate and loving person, not a tired, stressed out woman who is always on edge. I know this is only one occasion and there will most likely be many more where I lose my temper, but that is no excuse for the behavior. Every occasion effects not only my soul, but the soul of my child which God has entrusted to me. May God grant me patience and peace so that I may raise saints for His heavenly kingdom.

Sleep Much?

I think I need more sleep. My poor son walked around the doctor's office for two hours like this. I wonder why no one said anything? 

Vacation?

This weekend we are meeting my family in a resort town in New Mexico. It will be a seven and a half hour drive (turned into 13 I'm sure) one way with two kids under two. This is supposed to be a vacation, but I have a feeling that word may have a new definition for me. Vacation used to mean getting away to a quiet spot and being able to relax for a few days. Now it means packing an insane amount of luggage for two days, listening to a newborn cry in the car for hours and hours, and trying to figure out how to entertain a one and a half year old for seven hours while he dances around trying to figure a way out of his car seat. Also, on the last three vacations we have taken Peanut (which is my new blog name for my son) has puked in his car seat, making the car smell like vomit the whole way. Yes, I know I am painting a lovely picture here. My husband and I used to get away with one piece of luggage for the both of us. Now I have a pack n' play, a bassinet, two suitcases, a highchair, a stroller, carriers for the baby, diapers and a bag of food for the toddler. I feel like I'm moving, not leaving for a few days! Luckily, at least on this "vacation", there will be the relief of seeing my great family on the other end of it. And I would drive any (ok, almost any) distance for that...

Summer Fun!

The Perfect Family?

Since the birth of Miss Belle, we have gotten many comments on how great it must be to have one boy and one girl. Apparently a family of four with children being of opposite gender is considered "the perfect family" to people in society today. Oh! And the fact that our boy is older than our girl? Well, that is just icing on the cake. Surely we don't want anymore, surely we are "done!"

I have been thoroughly amazed how many people in our politically correct society today think it is just fine to discuss and comment on my husband's and my love life and plans for children in the future. A couple of weeks ago we took the kids into my husband's work to show off the new addition. A man I never have met or been introduced to looks at our family and very bluntly states, "Ok you have a boy and a girl. You have two. You're done. No more now, you're done." Or the woman at mass who commented on how close our children were in age but then went on to say, "When I think of all the aborted babies out there, I'm happy to see a baby. But that doesn't mean you need to go and have another one in a year." Not to mention all the small grocery store comments about how we must have our hands full and how happy we must be that we got one of each sex. I knew people made comments like this before I even had kids, because I know quiet a few large families who get them all the time. But that's just it...they are LARGE families...not families with TWO kids (FYI I'm not saying these comments are appropriate for large families either, I just didn't expect to get any until at least three or four children were tailing behind me).

Why is it that everyone finds a baby to be the most joyous thing in the world and then tells you not to have anymore? Everyone smiles at babies, wants to hug, smell and kiss them all over. There is something about a tiny warm body curled against yours that brings a peace to the soul that is beyond this world, and yet society says two is the max. Two is enough joy, no more. This baffles me. Someday I'll find a good response to comments, I just assumed I had more time. But in case you are curious, here is our plan for the world to know: we take children as God gives them, not at our convenience. Maybe I could just type that up on a card and hand it out to people who think we should be "done".

Forced Selflessness

I once heard a great quote that I have been thinking of often lately. It went something to the effect of "Parenthood makes selfish people unselfish. You can't be a good parent and be selfish." Man have I found this to be true lately.

In a rare moment when I was actually alone returning some books at the library the other day, I saw a girl sitting in a chair reading a magazine. This simple picture had some deep effect on me. What did that feel like? To have no ties to anything? To be able to randomly go to a library, sit down and read a magazine without worrying about how the kids are, or what I'm making for dinner. I felt slightly guilty for my hidden envy of that girl in the chair, so I have been asking God to help me embrace these hard and busy days as we continue to adjust to our new life. But as many of us know, God in His loving mercy, often shows us more than we ask. Lately, He has shown me the need for a major cleansing my soul needs, and some definite attitude adjustments. And He is using my children to do it.

I'm lazy, I'll admit it. Sloth is one of those things I am constantly confessing over and over again. The Lord has given me two children who constantly pull me out of my love for sleep and relaxation. He has given me a son who wants to play right as his sister falls asleep, and a newborn baby who insists on waking up every time I put her down. I'm selfish and greedy. But these are often cleansed when I am forced to wake up at night to feed my child and money must be spent on diapers and clothing instead of things I really want. And biggest of all, I'm very prideful. Humility is granted to me when I look in the mirror at my post pregnancy body and by the insult to my family in the numerous comments my husband and I have already received regarding having more children in the future (negative comments, I assure you). I always told God that I wanted to be a saint, and He knew in His infinite wisdom that only the love I have for my children would force me to come out of myself and start serving others; to clean out the places in my heart where He should reside.

And secondly, my attitude. My above mentioned laziness mixed with fatigue has not been the best combination. I have lost my temper easily and been lazy in my discipline with my son. I am frustrated with him when he doesn't listen and I am having to remind myself often that he is only 19 months old. Something about having a newborn in the house makes him seem like an adult, and I think I often expect him to act like one. The other day as he was running around being a rambunctious boy,  I was particularly annoyed with his abundant energy and unwillingness to listen (and here again, God is cleansing me of impatience). I prayed for God to give me patience and I was struck with a thought that changed my whole attitude towards him. If my son was the only person ever born on the face of the earth, Jesus Christ would have come and suffered and died for him. How much must Christ love him in his one year old innocence? And how displeasing it must be to God when I treat him like an annoyance in my life instead of the greatest gift He has ever given me? I'm not saying I'm perfect and have not lost my patience with him numerous times since this event, but every time I think of this little thought I am filled with a sense of total peace and love towards my son. A desire to discipline out of love and not anger, and a desire to shower him with love and affection, the way I'm sure Christ would show His love for my son.

I am so thankful during these days of change and transition to have my faith. It's a gift I think none of us can take for granted these days. And I am mostly thankful for a loving Father who shows patience with me every day and knows exactly how to cleanse my soul through such an awesome gift as my children. A Father who reveals and gives much more than I ask and a Father who loves so perfectly. May I learn to love as He loves.