Merry Christmas

So here we are. After an Advent that feels like it didn't really prepare me. Not that I'm blaming Advent. It was circumstances and my state in life right now. God knows. While praying before Mass last night - interrupted prayer: "sit down; please get off the baby; oh, baby are you alright?; etc"- Baby Jesus gave me such a consoling gift. It truly and really doesn't matter what I got done, or didn't get done. It's not about me. Why can I not remember that? It's about Him and his generosity in coming every year, no matter what. Thank you Jesus. Thank you for this crazy hectic life, that leaves me gasping for air at moments and laughing hysterically the next. Thank you for this man you've given me in sacramental marriage. None of it perfect, all of it good. Help me to remember that it's ALL good.

We went to the Vigil Mass. Not our first choice. We'd prefer to go to Christmas morning Mass, but family obligations don't permit that at this point. It is a very crowded Mass, which is good, but distracting for little ones. There was a family we didn't recognize (they may just be regulars who sit on the other side of the church. I swear we'd see a whole new parish if we but only sat on the other side occasionally.) sitting kitty-corner from us. They were laughing their heads off at us and the antics of our little ones. Mark especially provided some fine entertainment. His favorite word right now is no, which has many different meanings and inflections. At one point he wanted his coat, so Justin tried to help him, but help he did not want. "No, no, no" he said sweetly, but determinedly, while backing away and ended up falling backwards on his bottom.

We had passed Katie off right away so that we could focus on Matthew and Mark and at mid-point of the Mass, Mark seemed to realise that she was missing. He picked up the car seat and looked under it, around it and in it. He looked around the immediate vicinity. So he looked a bit further. He spotted one of our friends who has a baby who is a month older than Katie. He decided that was Katie, but he was too shy to go get her back, so he just stared suspiciously.

Anyway, here's a couple of little Turnerisms:

Rebecca: "I think the best thing about cooking the turkey is the stuffing... after the meat, of course".

Mark (16 months): loud scream followed by "shhh".

Alexander when asked if Santa Claus was coming: "Actually, I don't believe in Santa Claus. I believe in St. Nicholas".

No Squeaks Here

We have a hard and fast rule (again with the English language. Just what does that mean exactly?) The bathroom door MUST be closed and the light must be shut off. Otherwise the toddler and preschooler have a tendency to do things that should not be done. Things like this: sticking hands up to their little wrists in Aquaphor and applying to hair, clothing, cabinetry, floors, each other and of course eating it. Aquaphor is a staple in this household. It works so well for Eczema (which our poor sweet Katie is suffering) and for dry lips. It seems to be an amazing hair product. Multiple washings made not a dent in the greaser look our two boys were sporting. Maybe they should have leather jackets too? We will see how it works to keep all systems flowing. I can't even imagine.

The Gift of Christmas

This is the last Sunday of Advent. This prepatory season has flashed by, quicker even than it normally does. I think the biggest and most obvious reason for this is the birth of Katie. It is hard to sit back and just accept that this Advent, normal is not normal. That there are things that just won't happen this year. And.that's.okay. It is. Really. Breath in, breath out. It's okay.

This is the season of our lives and we just need to enjoy this beautiful gift that God has blessed us with, so close to His own birth. And she is a gift. It is this graciousness, mercy and generosity of our Lord that I meditate on. Here is this amazing little person, who smiles at us with great simple joy. How can I not be grateful? I don't know when God will decide that's it - no more little souls will come our way. But for now He has sent us one more precious child and I am so happy to delight in her and in our God's love for all of us.

These thoughts lead me to think and ponder the birth of Jesus. The hardships, the joys and hopes that sprung from one small human, who was divine, but who knew? There was so much faith required by everyone, including Herod. Herod who heard and believed in the majesty of the small boy, but he denied and misunderstood that lordship. He believed enough to kill who knows how many little boys to protect his earthly throne. Mary and Joseph who were told by an Angel and they believed. It would have been so much simpler to pretend those visitations didn't happen. But they believed. The magi who by faith of their sciences travelled so far to worship a small boy, who was obviously poor. Today's scientists would probably scoff. This can't be right. But their faith was pure. And the saints who followed them imitate that faith. It is a long line of faith, that we are called to imitate. This is our heritage.

Advent Lite

Less filling?Despite my best efforts/intentions, our Advent has been very pared down. St. Nicholas did come, although he was late. He brought chocolate coins, Jelly Belly beans, St. Anne medals, and Night at the Museum 2. As well he picked up the letters that the children wrote to the Christ child. So cute, the things they say. Xander wrote something about St. Nicholas bringing Easter eggs. Some theology and liturgical calendar study needs to happen me thinks.

May the Souls of the Faithful

Mr. H went home last Friday. His funeral was Monday. It was a testimony to a life well lived and a death well anticipated. He was prepared. He was ready. So was his family. That's not to say that they're happy he's gone. Maybe a little bit for his sake, but they miss him. But this is a story of hope, of knowing where he is gone to. This family truly believes and there's no despair. But there is sadness. This man lived for his family. He was married to his best friend for 52 years. Together they had 7 children and 26 grandchildren. These children have a wonderful role model to follow.

He was a shy man and I didn't really know him that well. But I know his example. I have watched the loving way in which he and his wife have served quietly and well. How generous he was and how this family has warmly drawn me to them time and time again. And it's what I want for my family. It's not what we have, but it is something to aspire to. And that is why God gives us the saints and saintly around us. To know good and to be attracted to it. To desire it and to move towards it, always looking to perfect love, as a response to that perfect love. To know that it is possible. There is so much to meditate on. Pray for us Mr. H.

Kidisms from the past week

A small sampling of things we hear:

"Dad, has Katie had her V.D. yet today?" (Vitamin D)

Child drying garlic press, "Where does the nut smasher go?"

Toddler who learnt bouncing on the couch can leave one with a goose egg on the noggin, "I going down stairs. I won't hurt myself. Weally I won't."

Toddler out for revenge, "I go beat Xander." And he heads joyfully for the dining room.

All Hail

After a long day of anxiety driven labour fueled by induction and lack of control, Katherine Isabelle Rose was born at 3:11. She is a benevolent little princess, who rules her kingdom with docility and sleepy eyes. Her courtiers are slaves at her feet(figuratively speaking of course) and plead to hold her (great reward for school work well done). She is so beautiful and we all adore her. Her languid movements and little squeaks make my heart swell. Who would think that a 6th baby could still be such poetry. She's not prosy at all.

Proof!

I'd forgotten about this. When Alexander was 3 or 4 I took him to the speech pathologist(a lovely and helpful lady) for assessment, where she showed him pictures and he told her what he saw. One of the cards was of a person ironing. I absolutely detest ironing and only do it for say, baptisms, weddings or sewing. All rare occasions. So, there I am shaking my head at the speech pathologist and she's insisting he answer with something, while he clearly has not a clue as to what's happening in this picture. His guess? "He's mowing his clothes". And there you have it folks, proof positive that I am not a housekeeper.

Harassed?

What's short, pink, blonde and is convinced the world is out to get him?

"The kids keep harassing me on purpose.  X washed a zillion dishes and it'll take me 1000 hours to dry them".  It seems he's also a master of hyperbole.

Toddler Indignation

Matthew at supper last night was given a plastic plate.  He took offence (after eating a few bites first) and it took us a few minutes to figure out the source of his wound.  "I not a baby.  I a kid.  I a boy.  I NOT a BABY."  Sigh... No you're not.

Death and Dying

This week seems a fitting one to write this post. Our beautiful Mother Church in her mercy and wisdom offers us the loving feast days of All Saints and All Souls, where we can celebrate the transition from this world to the next. We pray for the souls of those who go before us and are unable to pray for themselves and we ask for their intercession as well as those we know are part of the Church Triumphant.
Two years ago I was travelling this road with little understanding of the beauty of these teachings. I knew some of them in theory, but that means little when your heart is hard and hurting. I should have turned to the Cross and clinged to our Lord. I should have walked with Our Lady the Via Dolorosa, but I did not. I only wanted what I wanted and I did not want my mom to die. I wanted her healed and whole, not suffering and dying.
This brings us to the present where one of the most holy people I know is dying. His is a family that lives close to Christ and has embraced me in prayer and friendship time and time again. He is suffering with cancer and heart disease, but is doing so with patience and dignity. Here is a man who is living in Christ's shadow. His wife is walking with the Blessed Virgin. But this is not a road that is foreign to them. They walked this walk with their daughter 15 years or so ago and earlier this summer when their grandson was killed in a car accident. There could be bitterness reigning, but there is joy and hope. The lessons this family continues to teach me are humbling to say the least.
May the Souls of the Faithful departed through the mercy of God rest in peace. Amen

Book Review - The Catholic Family: Image and LIkeness of God

I recently finished a great book by Rev. Dr. Bob MacDonald entitled "The Catholic Family: Image and Likeness of God" part 1. This book takes you from remote formation, explaining the role of the male and female and the influence their own family has on their future, to how we form our children in utero through to young adult. But it doesn't stop there. It continues onto the elderly and death, dying and grieveing. All of this from the perspective of a Catholic deacon who is also a pyschologist in family practice. Dr. MacDonald presents things in a manner that the layperson can understand and gives practical suggestions to incorporate loving methods of discipleship into your family. There's a focus on incorporating prayer and fasting that is rarely if ever found in parenting literature. I found his explaination of the spouse's individual roles within the family to be particularly helpful and enlightening. I'm looking forward to part 2.

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1. Completed 3 sewing projects. Okay, so they were little simple things, but they are done!
2. Read to my children daily.
3. Accepted the help of a friend to help clean my entryway.

Domesticity

I am attempting to get the house in order before the baby comes. Unfortunately, my arms are too short and belly too large for much of what needs to be done, plus I'm just dog gone tired. So I must just fret about what will need to wait and do what I can right now and be at peace with that. I am working on training the children and by the level of discontent registering it would seem that there's mild success on that end. I have been able to plan weekly menus for the past month including breakfasts, lunches and supper. I'm working on having all steps written out for my family on household management and am working on supervising the implementation of said steps. Sad to admit, but that's taking all of my patience and energy. I came to the realization that I was doing a disservice to my children in the amount of things I did for them. Really an 11 year old should be able to do a load of laundry and an 8 year old should be able to wash dishes. Yeesh. Although to hear them tell it, there's never been harder lives.

All Hallow's Eve

Yesterday was All Hallow's Eve, aka Halloween. Normally I really enjoy the whole process of carefully selecting costumes, filling treat bags and carving pumpkins. But this year I was just too tired to really get into the whole thing. No matter to the children though. They gleefully decorated, filled goody bags, and carved our one pumpkin (there were none to be had for love or money this week). And then we went trick or treating. 2 hours and 15 houses later our children have a stash that would do most stores proud. People in the country only get 12 - 15 children (half of them are us) so they can afford to be generous and our children have full size chocolate bars, chips and pop plus many other assorted candies and goodies. Our family in an attempt to mark the holiness of the vigil of All Saints, said "thank you and God bless you" to their many benefactors. Usually we give out saint cards with our goodies, but I didn't remember to order them in time so that didn't happen.
Today was Patrick's first day of serving at the Holy Mass and he did quite well, but afterwards he had a tonne of energy that needed to be spent. It's such a beautiful feast day to begin this wonderful ministry. the more I understand of the Catholic Church and the beauty of the communion of saints and souls in Purgatory, the more grateful I become. Our brothers and sisters are still with us. We cannot see them. And they are helping us to perservere in the battle here on earth. It is humbling to know there are all of these holy souls praying for us and the wisdom of our Church in offering us a day to celebrate is awe inspiring. I wish that it as still an octave. It's a fascinating history. Catholic Culture has some great resources.

Frontiers

It is interesting to me that we present some kind of challenge. We, being our family. When we go out in public, I feel like we are a walking billboard or sideshow. I have had people I don't know from Adam defend their decision to sterilize their marriage and limit themselves to x number of children. I would never ask anyone about their fertility. I am not looking at other families and judging the number of children they have and wondering if they've had a tubal or a vasectomy. That's so personal. I don't even ask my close friends if they're "done". But I have complete strangers asking me about our plans, and explaining/justifying theirs. Obviously we don't believe in sterilization, I think it's wrong to fix something that isn't broken, but I am not going to condemn someone for doing so. But I am sometimes, uncharitably I know, drawn to wonder, what is so awful about their child(ren) that they wouldn't want anymore. Or what's so terrible about co-creating with God, or terrible about their marriage... I know, I'm so not perfect. But for these people who feel it necessary to defend/explain themselves to me out of the blue, or attack me about the size of our family, I wonder that there isn't something deeper that tells them that what they do is against God and each other. Some truth written on our very hearts, so deeply ingrained that we can't entirely shake it. That we can't give name to but it exists all the same.

Okay Baby, Anytime.

I was so sure that yesterday I was having the baby. I contracted all day with noticeable contractions. I mean these were attention getters. The naughty child of contractions. Today they have tapered off to the whiny child of contractions and only so often. I am ready. Baby's clothes are washed, the bed is up and ready, the car seat is ready to go, evacuation plans are in place and the house is in reasonable order. The only thing I haven't done yet is make it to confession. Is that the hold out? According to the little gadget to the right of my blog I have 15 days left. Sigh. God's will be done. It would be convienient if the baby waited for Halloween to be over, but whatever.

Memories

My poor blog might fall apart. 2 whole days in a row, yikes. Mostly, because standing up and doing anything else just seems like soooo much work. And I have 24 more days to go, sigh...
Justin and I and then later the children and I have been remembering things that everyone did. The kidlets think them hilarious and some of them I quite agree are just that. So here we go tripping down memory lane.
How Rebecca used to eat mustard only sandwiches.
When Rebecca age 5 came out of her room to inform her dad and me that her head was itchy, in the place where there'd be horns if she was a cow.
How Xander used to whale over the waterfalls into bed.
How PJ used to fall asleep against their bedroom door and we then would not be able to open it.
Now, how everyone is Matthew's best friend, including the picture of the model at the optometrist.
Matthew again, "A bug! A bug!"
I'm sure that there'll be more. Justin remembers these things so much better than I.

Small Successes

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1. Went to optometrist for everyone, doctor for check up for me and babe, got referral for PJ
2. Have repairman coming out tormorrow to fix the fan on my stove for baking season.
3. Have most of the children's lockers cleaned out.

Crunch Time

This is a hodge podge of stuff. (Don't you just marvel at the english language? Hodge Podge. hmm)
1. I am "large with child". Understatement I think. The looks I encounter range from disbelief to pity when people are informed that I have another 4 weeks.
2. I am frantically (well, pregnant frantic, which is kind of lumbering and disjointed, because I need to sit down) tying up the loose ends before Baby's arrival. There are many things my husband has told me will need to be undone for a while. This includes, but is not limited to: a total clean out of the laundry room, sewing pajamas for the boys, taping, mudding and painting the stairs, one more lawn mow and weeding and mulching the strawberries(the weeds will probably protect them, right?). Much of what we are doing involves me instructing a child to pick things up, because the floor might as well be in Detroit or some other exotic location these days.
3. We made a trip to the hospital yesterday which obviously was a trial run. I woke around 5 to contractions that would not go away, finally gave in and got up at 6 and by 8 they were still strong and regular. By the time we had children delivered and I was hooked up to the non-stress test, they had subsided. I'm relieved and frustrated. So apprehensive about delivery. That's one of the problems with having children so close together, you remember the pain. Also it was a good moment to remember things like undershirts and clothes for the baby. It was on the list, but way down. Really must speak to my secretary.
4. Last week the library had the official opening of the Kid's Corner dedicated to Mom's memory. Becca cut the ribbon. Poor thing looked so sad, as though she was drowning kittens or something.
5. School is School Lite right now. Just focusing on the 3 r's and there's such a freedom in that.
6. My Mac is being fixed and good golly do I miss it. But hopefully it will come home with the ability to play and eject cd's and dvd's.

North and South

Alexander: Which cupboard?
Mama: The one on the left.
Alexander: Which hand is my left?
Mama: Remember, you write with your right.
Alexander: No. I write with my North hand.

Autumn is Truly Here

The last couple of days definitely belong to Autumn. She's firmly grasped the trees and garden in her artistic hand. Every thing's painted in gorgeous colours of reds, yellows, golds and greens. I so enjoy the smell and sights of this season although it is slightly touched with melancholy these past 2 years. I wish there was some way to have the colours without the cold and frost. My garden has had the biscuit, although in all fairness, it wasn't a good summer for my garden. It was put in late and then neglected. We had a good month where we were really diligent, but then I became tired and apathetic, overwhelmed by projects in the house and the garden suffered. So today we harvested the last of the potatoes, dug up the sad little beets and carrots and I weeded the strawberries. Our rototiller died so it was a bit of a jungle I had to work my way through and I've only made it about 6 feet in, but I'll keep working at it.
This week has been full of feast days, Michaelmas (Angel food cake), St. Therese (cupcakes) and Guardian Angels (too tired to do anything, but next year I want to do angel hair pasta and wings with angel cookies HT to Minnesota Mom and Bless Us O Lord). October is so rich in feast days and instead of planning grandiose things and doing nothing, I'm focusing on simple things like reading about the saint and a theme in the meal. This seems doable at this stage in my pregnancy. There are many things that I have to limit myself on and set priorities. I think that I am getting better at this.
Mark is still scooching, although the last 2 days we've caught him standing in the middle of the floor. He's starting to sign (all food related). He's very verbal, although there's very little that's discernible. He says "hi", "thank you", "daddy", "Becca"? All in all he's very joyful. He has up to 6 teeth now and they're popping in like popcorn.
And finally we've been waiting to run out of propane so that Justin can change something on the tank. Unfortunately it happened last night, a Friday. No gas delivery until Monday and it is chilly. And there's not hot water. It is certainly making me grateful for running water. I don't have to haul it, only heat it. I'm also grateful for my dishwasher, my shower and my washer. And it goes without saying that I'm grateful for my husband and my children, and the generosity of a gracious God.

This and That and Gratitude

We are back from holidays.  We spent a couple of days in Drumheller where we saw more reptiles than I care to count, both living and extinct.  From there we went to Medicine Hat and visited with Justin's family and left our girl behind for some one on one time with Grandma.

We are home.  Sigh.  Life is good.  I am so sure of God's Goodness today even though there's so much around me that is hard.  Work is slow, money is tight.  Our sewer backed up and I had to bleach the floor after Justin snaked it.  I have tonnes of things I should be doing, but right now I am reveling in the gentle mumbling of Mark as he skootches on his bum around the house; in the sound of my big boys inventing all sorts of games outside; in the feel of this wee babe in my womb squirm around; in the thought that my honey will be home soon; in the thought of my full freezer and pantry.  

I am filled with compassion and empathy for families who are missing someone today; for those who have no work; for those who's larders are empty; for those who do not love the life that nestles inside them.  Thank you God.  Please help me remember this on the days where it's hard.

The Service Around Here

Two year old with cloth over arm, pad and pen in hand:

"Whatcha you want eat?  Why you no want eat?"

Small Successes

1.  I canned dill cucumber pickles, peaches, beets, antipasto relish and bruschetta.  I made raspberry, blueberry, strawberry, and cherry jams and I froze 26 cups of saskatoons, with which to make syrup later.

2. I cleaned out my cold room.  A project I'd been procrastinating on, but with the hot weather, seemed like there would be no better time to do it.  It is so nice to walk into now!

3.  Took one poorly leash trained 94lb bundle of muscles and enthusiasm to the vet for her shots.

Bonus, we started school and all of this happened around that.  God is so good.

Help! I Need Somebody

I was just reading a great post by Rachel Balducci at Testosterhome, about the necessity of asking for help at certain times in our lives and just how difficult that can be.  I remember at one point someone telling me how selfish it can be not to ask for help.  That we can be interfering in some one's path to Christ.  That they are offering themselves to us as Christ does (in a smaller way, maybe) and we are rejecting them/Him.  Ouch!  This was a wake up call to me, because I'm so willing to offer help, but how often do I graciously accept it.  It seems a weakness to admit the need.  Or maybe it's as though I want to take advantage of someone.  One definite aspect of refusing help is trust.  Am I trusting that these offers are sincere or am I assuming that the person offering truly doesn't mean it?  Am I hoping that these people will see the needy side of me and still like me?  It is good to evaluate this and determine why I say no before I say no.  If Christ is offering me help should I really say no?  And should I not see Christ in each and every person I encounter?

Expecting...Expectant

For the most part I truly enjoy being pregnant.  I love the idea of a new soul growing inside me, developing into the little person God has created them to be.  I love the feeling of little flutters and the feelings of little feet and hands trying to come out of my belly button.  I do not enjoy nausea.  But it's a small price to pay and at least it never develops to something worse as it does for some people.

A Jonah Day

It is a gorgeous spring like day outside.  I can hear the sounds of birds bustling through their day and children building imaginary worlds, peacefully together, I might add.  My house is silent but for the sound of the dishwasher and my typing.  From my window I can see the children, the fluttering leaves from a gentle wind and the glowing reflection of the morning sun on the very green trees.  But I am in a funk.  I can feel a migraine coming on.  I know that I have tonnes of stuff to do in the house, yard and garden, but am totally disinclined to do them.  Which adds guilt.  

And at the very top of this is THE COURSE.  It looms like Snoopy pretending to be a vulture.  I am determined to go back to school.  I want a Theology degree.  But I cannot find a distance ed school in Canada that offers it.  So I have to at least start on my Humanities degree through Athabasca University.  Which is a liberal Canadian post-secondary institute.  So the courses will be flavoured by this philosophy.  And to top it off I (me, myself) signed up for the wrong course.  I hit the wrong button when ordering and am now forced to do a literary prose course, full of angry books, by authors who might be my brothers and sisters in Christ, but are not close friends.  I read/laboured through the introduction of my course last night and upon reflection, probably agreed with all of 2 sentences.  The intro alone is angry.  It is full of hate for organized religion, and "chauvinistic society" that oppresses native peoples.  There is no examination of purity of intention here and certainly no quarter given to Judasim(an attack of the Old Testament) My anxiety is how do I defend my faith but still pass?  How do I not become tainted by this anger and lack of hope?  I think ice cream might help.  Oh and lots of prayer.  St. Thomas Moore, pray for me.

A one and A two...

Little Mark is still a nurser.  He's incredibly efficient.  Recently I have noticed a trend.  I used to nurse him just on one side so that he'd get the hind milk, but now it's as though he can count and there's no way we're done until he's had both sides.  Did I mention he has a temper?

God Answers All Prayers

It has been a crazy time.  Good but truly insane.  Our schedule looks like this of late: Monday - swimming, home, me back to town for a meeting; Tuesday - riding, soccer; Wednesday - swimming, soccer; Thursday - speech, soccer.  Each of these days involve two trips to town.  The weekends are equally loaded and until today we've been doing school.  So I have felt a bit like a tired, waddling yo-yo.  One day recently found me whining, (ahem) praying to God, "Oh Please can't we just have one week at home".  So I came home from Ignatian Retreat to find my two oldest children spotted with suspicious red spots.  God is good and I'm grateful for His "Yes".  I just need to remember to be a bit more careful how I pray in the future.

Happy Birthday Alexander

Today you are six.  You are ready to read, ready to entertain.  I love the way you get so excited by something so that you're laughing so hard that no one can understand you.  I appreciate the way you are so content to entertain yourself.  You spend hours with your Lego, Thomas, a puzzle or a craft project.  And you have a sensitive side.  When you're sad, Mama can comfort you.  I pray that continues.  As you start out in this new year of discovery and learning, I wish it to be full of joy and challenges overcome.  And in all your triumphs I pray that you see the glory of God in them and through them.

This Weekend

This weekend is full of bustle.  After a week of snow covering the ground (it's May for pity's sake!!), the lawn and trees are becoming lush and green.  My wee little plants lived through it, in fact seemed to have thrived.  We will plant 75 strawberries.  We will bake a cake with Mom's artistic rendition of a Star Wars character.  Mom will get her hair cut.  We will have a weiner roast.  And grandparents will visit and spoil all children but in a special way, the Giraffe.  Happy pre-birthday weekend.

Don't buy the hype!

We woke up to a foot and a half of snow this morning.  It's May long weekend and we were going to plant our garden.  Global warming my foot.

The Fields Are Calling

Spring is here.  Well, at least according to the calendar.  We woke up to snow this morning, just a skiff, but snow it was.  One sign of spring is that soccer has started.  We have two boys playing this year.  And they are from opposite ends of the athletic spectrum.  One who sobs if soccer is cancelled and another who shrugs and rejoices in being able to sit in the house a bit longer.  At the end of the month we'll add swimming to the mix and see how that turns out.

Ambassadors for Life

I feel a certain pressure when out in public with our children. Whether rational or not, it's there. I need the children to be clean, polite and well behaved. These are of course what every parent - I imagine- desires for their family, but I think that as a large family (I didn't know we were a large family until someone told me we were) who homeschools, it's important that people not perceive me as a tired hag of a mother, so put upon by ill behaved children. It's probably vanity on my part, but I don't want people to think that children are this huge awful burden. In a world where people only see the inconvenience , because let's face it, children are inconvenient to me being the centre of the universe, I wish for people to see the joy and the love that accompanies more children. How much they love each other, how much they look forward to the new baby. How they are making me and my husband better people, with more love to give. It's odd that quite often people react negatively to the idea that we're having our 6th baby. Does this stem from the "me" generation, or is it something deeper, more sinister?
I try not to imagine the day when there are no more babies in our house, because it makes me sad. This is a far cry from the young 18 year old me who wanted no children ever. The thought of being able to co-create with God a new soul is so thrilling and beautiful.
I have been asked if they're all mine, if I know what causes this (my husband's response is a wolfish grin and a hearty "Yes. And we like it."), if they're all from my body, are you done? I must be charitbale in my response because these people just don't understand. But anything I come up with seems so unsatisfactory. I want to soften their hearts to the beauty of new souls, new, fresh thoughts and outlooks. So I try to smile through the punishment of public shopping. So I make sure the children are dressed neatly and that they are polite. Because I am an ambassodor of the Culture of Life. And so are they.

Angry Baby, You're the One (to the tune of Rubber Ducky)

Mark is turning into a baby who knows his own mind. He knows what he wants and communicates very effectively to get it. He is so cheerful most of the time, but if he wants something and you're denying him, then his temper kicks in. I have never seen such a little baby become so furious. He scrunches up his little face, and throws his body back. He screams and shakes his head. It is truly impressive, and it works. Who is going to ignore that? And this at 8 months. Look out world... By the way, weighs in at 18.45lbs.

Small Successes

1. Cleaned out my kitchen cupboards (well most of them). 
2. For each appointment this week we have been on time if not early, despite having multiple appointments back to back 30 minutes travel apart. And I kept my cool. 
3. I have purchased a good part of my bedding plants (early for us - it’s still pretty cool in Canada).

Surprises

We have been surprised.  Never before have I ovulated while exclusively breast-feeding.  Apparently I did and more obviously I missed it.  Truly, I wasn't paying that much attention, because I've never had to.  God has blessed this lack of observation with more than I deserve.  I am pregnant(who didn't see that coming?) and have no idea when the babe is due.  The doc suspects I'm 5 months along, but we won't know until my ultrasound on the 15th.  What has this meant?  I was so sick and couldn't figure out why no one else was getting the flu I had.  It means I continued to be more active than I would have if I'd known I was pregnant and feeling sorry for myself.  It means my pregnancy is about half done and I didn't even know.  It's very cool.  God knows what we need.

It does come with anxieties though, and I know God will look after them, but I keep wrestling them from his hands.  Poor Matthew and Mark will have shortened infanthoods.  I'll have 3 under 3.  All survivable, but still...  It's just my lack of control and my desire for it.

The children are so very happy and excited, and truly, so am I.  Each baby leaves one wondering it this is the last one and there's such a sadness in that, a mourning for a state of life that is passing.  But God in his mercy has given us another baby.  Justin glows.  He loves his babies so much.

Where my be

Today found us on the hunt for a suit for First Holy Communion.  It is always an adventure to load up everyone and take them someplace very public.  I always feel like I'm on trial for larger families everywhere.  But that's another post.

We successfully found a great outfit for Patrick.  But poor Matthew.  Everytime he took a shine to something for him we told him no.  The bathing suit that was a size 14 boys, the pink tankini, the pink sunglasses, the fluffy stuffed rabbit, the pink sandals(for Becca): all no.  Then at dinner, due to his recent meal strike, we didn't order him his own meal.  So he's shouting at the waitress, "Me too.  Where my be?" and then at dessert, the same thing.  Sharing wasn't going to cut it.  So onto the last store of the day, a mega store, and once again, "No honey, I don't need to buy you shoes.  You don't need water shoes (because you're not doing swimming lessons with the big kids - not out loud)."  And I just couldn't bear to tell him one more time that he just wasn't getting anything today.  That he has everyone else's hand me downs, that he didn't need anything.  "Yes, my love the sandals that light up are just what you need.  Yes, you can wear them home."  And VERY happily he did.

You're Hot and You're Cold

I am a hormonal emotional wreck looking for a place to happen.  It will be messy and sad and grim all at the same time.  I know it's coming so I'm avoiding public places in hopes to contain the mess.  The worst is that I know it's imminent but I also know it's unavoidable.  It's like the girl in horror movies in high heels who screams to let the monster know where she is and then runs.  Sigh ...

Memory is Tricky

Today my daughter told me sorrowfully that she couldn't remember Grandma's voice.  She could only remember when she said "Grammmmyyyy" Grandma would say "whatteeee".  So many thoughts tumbled through my brain.  So many responses:  "I know, sweetie, me too" "Memory does that"  "It doesn't mean you've forgotten Grandma".  But they all seemed so small and wrong.  So I just hugged her close and prayed. 

I Hope You Dance

Dancing babies abound in our house.  It must be something that starts in utero and then continues on the outside.  Mark, upon hearing the beat of anything, starts kicking and bopping his head.  It's no wonder he's not gaining weight at the same rate as previous babies.  He's by far the most active babe so far.  Dance baby dance!

Earnest

"Alexander, you need to close the baby gate"

"Yeth, we don't want our baby to get all dead"

12 Years Ago

12 years ago, I was preparing myself for entering into full communion with the Roman Catholic Church.  I had absolutely no idea of the graces that were to be available to me.  I still don't, although I have an inkling.  I just knew that I'd be able to receive the Eucharist.  That Christ would give Himself to me in the most humble of ways.  Even now it amazes me that He comes to me at every Mass.  And as I grow in my faith I know that communion unites me with the saints in Heaven and my brothers and sisters throughout the world.  

12 years ago I little knew what God had planned for me and my husband who joined the Church at the same time.  We didn't know that we'd find ourselves parents to 5 wonderful children.  We didn't know how much we would grow or how much more room for growth there would be.

Thank you Jesus for all of the blessings you've given us.  Create in us grateful hearts.

Suffer? Not Well.

Today is Holy Saturday.  We await our Risen Lord with hope and anticipatory joy.  But still I contemplate His sorrow and my contribution to it.  Or more accurately, my lack of contribution.  My weakness when it comes to suffering.  How do we teach our children to suffer well, when we are so awful at it?  Yesterday's Good Friday service resembled an Olympic event and I did not unite the suffering of missing most of the spoken words of the Passion with my Lord's.  I just drew my sorrow close and felt sorry myself.  For the flu that will not go away, I feel sorry for myself.  Lord, pull me close to you, I give you my sorrow, help me live in joy the suffering you are offering me.  May I see it as the gift it is.

Blessings

God is good all the time.  Even when we disagree about what is good and we can't see the gift.  In the midst of dirty diapers, screaming children, a faltering, uncertain economy He is there and we just need to exercise the muscle of Faith.