>Guess what happened?

>

And he only just turned five!
I can’t remember, but doesn’t that just seem so early?
Shark teeth, my kids seem to have shark teeth –
where the new teeth come in rows behind the baby teeth. Scary.

Oh, but the pride of losing a first tooth: big stuff!
And our relief at finally being able to pull it, after dangling from that gummy thread? BIG stuff!
Congratulations Little Man!
We love your snaggly, shark tooth smile!

>Fast Friday?

>

This is our fast and wild Friday afternoon….

But wait, look closer…… Yup. It’s a perfect afternoon.

>Fun with Presidents

>

President’s Day: a la Coffeefamily!
(I know, I put this one up many moons ago…
but it’s just so perfect for today!)

>Just in case you didn’t know…

>

No kidding, who knew? Well Deacon Greg knew, go here to read another good homily. It’s not a Catholic holiday, it’s a secular commemoration. Even so, in 1993, his Holiness, Pope John Paul II, imparted his Apostolic Blessings on World Marriage Day

I think marriage is a long wonderful hard thing. It is a constant work in progress. And while I could post pics of our wedding (though I would have to scan them, being pre-digital and all…) really, that is not what this commemoration brings to my mind. Because marriage isn’t just about the vows, though they are an amazing sacrament. Marriage is about the living, the being there. Each one is different. No one marriage is anywhere near perfect; no fairy tale. Marriage is an boatload of work and has eras, epochs even. So, here are a just a couple of pics that show marriage, literally in my book (and if I had had one of him replacing my broken kitchen faucet, I would’a posted it, cause that would have totally made the cut for this post!).

Marriage is living loving life together, sometimes more, sometimes less.
But it’s not quitting and it’s being there, really there. No matter what.So if there is a day to honor it, by all means, lets!
Can we have champagne, cake?
Any which way you like, it’s worth a pause and a small moment of cheer, don’t ya think?

>Why??

>Why “why?”
You might guess that I am referencing this morning’s craziness (which has all settled down).
Or you might guess that it was another bout of me whining about my basement flooding or my washing machine breaking down (ok, maybe just a little bit). But you’d be wrong. Mostly.
No, this post is just another short reminder of the silly fun of having a two year old.
Because Gabe’s language is exploding and we now have moved deep into the two year old world of why.
By which I mean, “why?” is the word of the week.
No, it’s not fully understood, but man, it sure sounds good and works wonders.
It can make Mom and Dad stop and grin, and the big kids laugh.
It can get him a hug most every time, especially when it is said with a coy smile and a head tilt.
Because it’s still cute.
And it will stay cute for a short while, until he learns that it is most commonly used with the big kids in a whining sulk or with a defiant stance.
But until then, it’s cute.
Why?
I don’t know, it’s just because he’s SO two.

>Almost Wordless Wednesday

>

February homeschool blues.
Our school week so far has been quite a lot of this:Hopefully, it will soon (today please) turn to this:
I’m just saying, “whew!”

>Silly, Weird and just odd

>Just to show you we aren’t always serious, all the time…
And that we like some silliness on a Monday….
And to prove to anyone who wonders, just how much I love my husband…
I submit this:
Yup, it’s Groundhog Day.
And though I think think this is one of the goofier (even bizarre) traditions in our country (I mean, c’mon, look at those guys: top hats, groundhogs?!), it does marginally appeal to the latent folklore student in me.

Apparently, the verdict/prediction for this year is 6 more weeks of winter. Ugh. That makes this groundhog a little lower on my good list. We have our own personal groundhog here. He (or she, I haven’t gotten close enough to check) waddles up into our yard from the bluff quite often as the weather warms. And it is no big surprise then that we haven’t seen him in months. I guess all these groundhogs got the memo about winter from Phil. We haven’t named him yet, unless you count “Lookmomthereheisagain!” I guess we have a few more weeks ahead to work on a name for this spring anyhow.Anyhow, you might be wondering about the ‘just how much I love my husband connection” from above. Here it is:
Yup, that’s right. Ssshhhhhh. I bought him this as a surprise (hopefully you’ve opened it by now honey) for tonight. Because he loves this movie. And it makes me crazy. I don’t know whether it’s the young Bill Murray who makes me crazy or the wacky time loop thing….because time loop/travel movies kind of scramble my brain. I found this out years ago and have done minor gymnastics over the years to avoid seeing it when he finds it on the old movie channels….that and I’ve read a few good books instead while he and the boys laugh and mimic. But it’s a cold Monday, so I figure he will need a laugh tonight after a long day. So I have this, waiting, and am feeling all virtuous in the nice wife department. I might even watch part of it with him and the big kids…..as long as I can stand it.

Happy Groundhog Day! Might as well bundle up: six more weeks of winter…?

>Snowy winter week

>It’s been a cold snowy week here.
Now, where we live, pretty darn cold in winter is normal.
Snow and ice storms are not so much.
We usually only get a couple of good snows a year so it’s always a thrill.

It was so pretty and exciting to wake up to this:
For a two year old, snow and very cold is a whole new thing! “No!” Gabey calls, pointing with excitement. (To be carefully differentiated from his other very clear “no” for oh, many many things.)
Yesterday was one of our few official snow days, so the kids spent a good part of it looking like this: In and outside, bundled up, then shedding layers to drip on the mudroom floor.(Yeah, she does looks a tad cranky…it’s drag to take the boots on and off and on and pull the jacket on and off and hang it up again…..it’s a tough life when you’re ten, oh my!)
Later it started to look a lot more like this all around, after first ice then snow all morning.And I know for many of you, this is small potatoes, a mere dusting. But for us, its big news and a big white chilly fluffy thrill. Anyhow, it won’t last, but it’s so fun and pretty while it does that I had to post it, for the record.

>Happy 53rd Anniversary!

>

Happy Anniversary to my Mom and Dad!
Here they are, this is the quintessential picture of them from when I was a kid.
This is one of those nights they got all dressed up to go out. I thought my mom looked so beautiful, with her happy smile and fancy embroidered dress and Indian jewelry and shawl. Maybe that’s where I got my love of shawls, who knows? I love this picture, they just look young and happy and it is one of the mental pictures, an ID sort of picture, in my head of my folks and those years.

Anyhow I just had to say Happy Anniversary to my Mom and Dad, because that many years is such an accomplishment…rare indeed in this day and age.
They have five kids all grown up and sixteen grandchildren.
They have been blessed with good health and a long marriage.
I love them and miss them very much and hope they have a lovely day.

>Tumbling Stones

>Remember this?
This is a rock tumbler, seeing it is like a blast from my past.
My eldest brother is a gemologist, and as a boy, we had one of these babies grinding away in my dad’s workshop (a large-closet size room off the carport) for many a day.
It was kind of fascinating to watch him go out in the desert, hunting for stones, and come back with a pocketful. He would sort them and then put some paste of some sort in the tub and flip the switch. Then it would turn and turn and turn, slowly but surely. It was kind of loud, sometimes kind of smelly, often in the way.
I always wished it would hurry up and finish (yup, impatient even way back when).

Finally, he would decide it had turned enough and he would flip the off switch. The bin would come to a halt and he would open it up and reach inside. I always tried to be right there when he did. He would pull out the same stones and they were smooth, then he would polish them and they would be like some kind of cool rugged jewels.
It was a kind of magic for a kid. It was just cool.

I lay in bed this morning, awake again at three a.m. with Gabey. He had gone back to sleep next to me, but I could not. And I started thinking about the various drama we’ve been having with the kids: nothing big, just the usual fussing here and there and kids fretting about turf and things and how come they do this and why can’t they be like that sort of things. You know, the sibling stuff, standard issue…..to an exponential factor since we have a large family.

And I think it was Kimberly Hahn who I heard once say that having family is a way to rub off your sharp edges. And I remembered David’s rock tumbler.

That’s what having a big family is like. A rock tumbler.
We are tumbling stones.

We are given to each other to rub off all our sharp edges, to smooth each other out. It’s often loud, a lot messy, sometimes stinky, and frequently in the way of one of our individual desires. It’s not always easy and all that bumping and banging can hurt a bit here and there.
And yet, it is a cool thing, to be able to have each other to work away those rough bits. To learn to withstand the jagged edges of the one who scrapes across you, once again.
To get mad and frustrated and even hurt, but to learn to soothe and be soothed, to endure and withstand….to forgive and forget and move on.
It is this tumbling, this smoothing of our rugged jagged stony hearts and natures that is what we do best for each other. And what, as a family, as a large family in particular, we can do like no one else in the world. It is hard sometimes. It can hurt, frustrate, scrape and chip. But in the end, you end up with something all new again…..transformed, you could say.You end up with jewels. All different. Each unique. None just quite like the other, different size, shape, color, composition…some with streaks, some with glints of glitter.

But you end up a family, each being polished into their most true selves.
No wonder I was so fascinated with his rock tumbler, ultimately, I was to have my own.

>On this day…

>

My son, Buddybug, is here.
Washington, D.C.
He is at the annual March for Life with a group from his university.

These are some pics from last year.
Most years Coffeedoc takes a few kids along with him, ours and a few extras. This year he couldn’t get there. But we are there in spirit.
I try not to get too political on this blog.
But it is surely no surprise to anyone that our family, I, we, are pro-life.
We are Catholic.
The Catholic Church has made it’s position on the spectrum of life issues very clear, very simple: All life is sacred. Period. Beginning to end. No matter what, where, who.
Simple.

And before you get started….I am quite clear on all the facets of this issue, and have worked through different things and thoughts about it all over the years. But finally and fully, as a Catholic who has discovered the deep beauty and richness in the faith, I realized it IS simple. And for me, though I spent years having long and important discussions on all the angles of this and these issues, finally it hit home in the most visceral way possible.

Here:
This is why I am pro-life.
Look, really look, at these faces.
How can I not be?

And while the actual March for Life happens today, the more, the most, important event (some might argue this point, but I would disagree) happened last night: the annual Vigil and Mass for Life. In the packed Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception, with Bishops and religious and just regular folks from all over (thousands upon thousands), all jam packed in to pray. They wait for hours (often 4-6) before the Mass even begins, just to make sure they have a spot. They pray, they talk and then, they pray in community: the Mass. Here’s a snip from last year. Our Lady of Guadalupe, protector of the unborn, pray for us.
http://www.youtube.com/get_player

>Sunday stupidity

>

{If I was cute and a toddler like Gabey, my face would’a looked like this.}

The topic of confession has come up. I went to confession even yesterday. As you might imagine, as a Catholic, I have many thoughts on this subject. It is near to my heart. Those thoughts are not all well gelled or pulled together, and they may never get there. Even so, I have much to say on Becca’s latest post.
But I’ll save the bulk of it for another time.
You’re welcome.

However, in the spirit of Becca’s post, on the facet of confession as owning up to our imperfections, I give you this: my Sunday stupidity.

Yes, I accidentally dropped my Blackberry cell in the tub.
I know, it surprised and shocked me too! (No, not literally, thank goodness!)
No I was not going to use it, I had carelessly set it on a towel. It fell.
Yes, I do feel like an idiot, thank you for asking.
Yes, I am in fear that it is quite dead, but am trying to let it dry out, despite my pleasantly surprisingly swift reflex on grabbing it out of the water in the deluded hope that it wouldn’t get as wet somehow.
No, I did not back it up and had a fair lot of data on it (you might remember, we are remiss in this area and apparently, never learn. Old dogs and all….).

So, this is my Sunday stupidity confession….on the cultural/mom level. No supermom here, no rocket scientist. Just careless mom. Oh dear.

Calling all techies: I am open to suggestions on fixes if you’ve done this too!

>Bittersweet

>We have all had such a great time having Buddybug home over Christmas break.
Our house has been filled with music and laughs and a little more peace.
And tomorrow he leaves to drive back to school. It’s time. But I am listening to him play the piano and sing. And it makes my heart fill up, it’s one of my very favorite things, listening to him sing and play. It’s a gift. But, knowing he is leaving makes me a bit conflicted and is bittersweet. I am both happy and sad, happy for him to head back to where is doing so well, happy for the time with him here, happy for the music. And springing just a few leaks, as I listen.

>One last Christmas gift from my husband

>

Coffeedoc has gone and done it again.He has given me perhaps the best gift of the season:
the recovery of our crashed hard drive!
We hemmed and hawed on if we wanted to spend the money and give it a try. It’s a dicey project at best and we’ve tried it once before, long ago with a different drive, and it didn’t work well. But, we finally decided to give it a go.And this morning I woke up to all of our old pictures, and emails, and documents back on our computer, with a new improved back up system in place! I think I cried to see all the pics back again: from when the kids were little ones, old amazing vacations and travels, even some of our referral and update pics of Gabriel. So really: priceless! What a gift, one last one before Christmas triple officially ends tomorrow with the feast of the baptism of our Lord.
Thank you Coffeedoc!
I love my husband and his sweet, sentimental, and generous heart!

>Almost Wordless Wednesday

>

Last week:
Another yearly tradition, Booboo style.A belated bday party.
The main event:
The Annual Polar Plunge!
{air temp approx 26 degrees}

The payoff: a hot jacuzzi and bragging rights!
Teens are fun.

>It begins: Too Many Tamales!

>Today I begin the work of what is an annual tradition, one I love, and one that I usually think – about 3/4 of the way through – “what was I thinking?”

Because today we start the tamales!
It takes at least two days for me to make good tamales, the real deal.

That is because the first day is to cook the meat, traditionally brisket, long and slow, simmered in spices until it breaks down into melty shreds of yummy goodness. Then it is taken out and shredded and the broth saved and refrigerated to defat. Next day I make the cornmeal, just the way my mom taught me, do the final seasoning and moistening of the meat with the broth, soak the husks, and then lay out all the items and start the laborious but comforting assembly.

And then I, or we, make tamales! Sometimes the kids, usually the girls, help, sometimes we watch a movie as we do it, or put on music or just talk. It’s a nice time and we usually end up with seven or eight dozen tamales. We pressure cook the whole lot in batches to set them and then sneak one or two piping hot, just to taste test, you know. I know, it’s a lot but we give some away and freeze the rest and I only make them about once a year, so I might as well make a bunch!

I grew up in the southwest and tamales were a much longed for, much anticipated treat. Because the only “good” tamales were homemade, period. All others were suspect, I mean, who knew what they put in there? But I knew what was supposed to be in there. Because every year I watched my mom and my aunt make tamales. They only did it once a year, maybe twice if some really special occasion arose or some extra effective begging and coercion took place. But for New Year’s Eve, we ate tamales!

My father’s birthday is New Year’s Eve. My sister’s birthday is New Year’s Day. They both love tamales and so shared this birthday feast, every year. And for me, part of the appeal was sitting near my mom and my favorite aunt, listening to them talk and watching the rhythm of their hands laying out the corn husks, smearing the masa, dabbing on the filling, then folding and rolling up the tamale into a kind of beautiful little present, folded and wrapped up into it’s own perfect bundle.

For years, I didn’t even like to eat them, just liked to make them. Imagine! But I was a young and stupid and picky child. Now, I know better and happily, children, all of them, are clearly much wiser than me!

So it’s a family feast. It’s a tradition that calls back to the southwest where both Coffeedoc and I were raised and that we love. It’s a connection back to my family and my memories. And it keeps me and my family connected and having a cross country birthday party with my dad and my sister, as we all have our tamales on New Years Eve and toast the new year but also the birthdays.

Anyhow, I love tradition! Heck I went through grad school for folklore/folklife and literature, of course I do! This is one of the oldest in my life and one that is very dear to me. So, I’d better get to work! Time to start the tamales!

>It’s Alive!

>

Baby Alive Doll by Hasbro

I feel like I am in a bad “B” movie….. Because we got Bird a begged for bday gift, to her utter delight and to my dismay. Not that I can actually blame anybody for this, it was my choice to cave…. But we did, I did, I did it. I bought her a Baby Alive doll for her bday.

And oh does she love it.
She carts that baby here and there, up and down the stairs, hither and yon.
They are feeding the baby, changing the baby, dressing the baby in all sorts of getups.

And frankly, it’s creeping me out.

The food: it’s not edible (because that would cause all sorts of mold growth on the innards of this thing). It looks like baby food mush of some sort but in a nuclear accident sort of way. The diapers, they have pee stains that again, are like pee on some nasty antibiotic: neon. And don’t even get me started on the loop this links you into: the surely astronomical cost of these supplies that need replenishing (and nope, I’m not paying for that, and yup, I am cheap).

I know, on one level this is very great role playing for my girl. It is right up her ally to nurture and pretend all this, and on something that isn’t living and so it can’t be hurt or maimed.

But still…The creepiest part of this doll is the talking. The moving mouth, the blinking eyes, the singsong voice loops: “Mommy, I’m hungry. Oops, I had an accident. Let’s play. I need a change! I love you Mommy.” And as she says this you hear the whirring of her moving parts and she blinks her big googly disturbing eyes and it just makes me kind of cringe. It makes Sbird giggle in glee.

I don’t know. I am not a total Scrooge, I swear. I mean, I bought it for her bday, after much begging. I knew, kind of, what we were getting into (though really, it’s just way more disturbing in person than in a catalog pic). And now you all get to realize I have issues, I guess…

But this doll, she creeps me out. She’s like a little nightmare event waiting to happen in the house, huh? Every time she is playing with that doll, a voiceover plays in my head of the mid 1960’s announcer saying “It’s Aliiiivveeee.”

I have clearly watched too many Twilight Zone’s when I was younger.
But this doll: on that show, she’d be a star!

>Christmas Eve

>It’s Christmas Eve.

Possibly the most beautiful day – well, night – of the year.
Certainly one of my top favorites!
Despite the sleepy fatigue.
Despite the to-do list, hopefully checked off, twice.

We are going to midnight Mass.
And yes, it’s at midnight!
{And yes, it makes me crazy when they have midnight Mass or services not at midnight…I mean, what’s up with that??? It misses the whole point, for goodness sake! But I digress…..}

So, yup, we are going to midnight Mass.
All of us.
And it will be hard to re-wake the kiddles, and dress them and nudge them out the door.
But once the whining and moaning and groaning is done, I, erk, I mean they, we, are all so glad we made the effort.

Because midnight Mass is like magic.
It’s better than magic.
It is sacred.
It’s the Incarnation!

And it’s cold and dark outside and hushed.
And we file into the warm church from the deep cold night.
And we step in and we see….the church transformed.
It is filled with lights, white lights, greens and poinsettas bursting and filling the church with color and sparkling light, flickering candles and hymns by the choir.
And in the middle of it, in front of the altar is now the manger.
The church is filled to overflowing, with folks from all over, and all denominations, and that is so happy and awesome too.
And as we settle into our pew (and yes, we now take up a whole pew, just us), we unload our coats and bags and kneel.
And some of the kids fall asleep again, some big, some small.

And every year, I just about cry.
I can’t help it, I take a deep breath and close my eyes for a minute.
It makes tears spring to my eyes, and smile…because it is just so, well, happy, so literally joyous.
We grin at each other like fools, and yes, sometimes a teen will roll their eyes at the doofy parents.
But we can’t help it.

It’s the best news of all: a baby!
A baby has been born!
God himself has come down to us, in a tiny new little one.
The most special of babies; look, see and hear the heavens rejoicing!

And we all smile and breath deep and sigh.
It’s midnight Mass.

And it is simply glorious.

And the veil between heaven and earth is somehow thinner in this nighttime moment.
And we can feel the rejoicing running through us, right here in our little church.
The bells will ring in the night and as we head out back to home, awake and cold in the dark but filled with the biggest of celebrations: the warm of the church and the Mass, the Incarnation.

The little boy in the photo above gets the great privilege of lighting a candle at the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem.
But we get the great privilege of going to Mass tonight, at midnight, sleepy and cold and tired….to wake our very souls up once more to the pure unspeakable joy that rings out tonight. It’s a baby, He is born!
It’s Christmas!

If you feel like seeing the most real miracle, go to midnight Mass.
I am so grateful for, and love, this Mass, this Christmas, this Gift.

Merry Christmas to all!

>O Tannenbaum

>

Oh yeah. Oh Christmas Tree!

This year we went (or, Coffeedoc and most of the kiddles went) over the river and through the woods. Not to Grandmother’s house, but rather to the perfect Christmas tree farm. It’s almost the same thing…. Because Coffeedoc was in search of the perfect Christmas tree and wanted one fresh, not cut a month ago. Because, yes that’s right, we are only just now getting our tree up. Because some might say we are behind the curve. And they do. But we like to think we are right on time. Heck, even the Vatican just put up it’s tree. And if it’s good enough for the Pope, then it’s good enough for us! (Ok, so maybe we are week behind the curve…it’s a busy house, c’mon)
Because we have been celebrating and living advent. And Christmas lasts through Epiphany, which is, of course, on January 6th. And most of the trees found on the corner lot, well, they’ve been dead since Thanksgiving or before. So, by golly, this year we were gonna do it differently. No more fretting about the house going up in flames as the clock ticked the year away. No more squabbles about watering the tree when it wasn’t drinking. This year, we were gonna go get a tree, not a day too early.
And so we did.

Which means that Sunday Coffeedoc and bigger kids (save for Gabe and Miss M, we had a lovely day) went to find the best tree ever. And so they did.
Which means that yesterday was spent in the annual lighting tangle with requisite trips to various stores to find them empty of Christmas lights, stripped bare shelves all ready for post Christmas sales (sheesh!). Which means that after the manly grumbling teens got the lights around the very largish tree we were ready.
We were ready and small ones chomping at the bit for the the annual free-for-all of ornament giddyness and nostalgia called trimming the tree.
In years past, it seemed to take for-ever. This year, it went at warp speed. Even Boobo noticed it, and as a teen, any family activity tends to take too too long. Coffeedoc and I both laughed and said at the same time, “lots of hands, light work!” (Yeah, we’ve been married a long time, gotta love that mind meld stuff).
Of course, no surprise is the fun we all had watching Gabriel point and “ooh” and “Oh!” over the lights and the exciting ornaments; being lifted high by Buddybug to help.
So, we did it. Got the perfect tree: my favorite (thank you Coffeedoc!), a Frasier fir. It’s the biggest tree we’ve ever had. It’s the prettiest. And by golly, it IS the freshest too. It should certainly last in beauty and safety through the whole Christmas season: to Epiphany.

But what is even better is the fun and wonder that lights up the eyes of our youngest sweet son. I watch him park himself, legs out, in front of the tree early in the morning. Then soon enough wander over to see if he can grab an ornament (yes, the tree if bottom half bare, classic toddler decor) or click the light switch. So of course it’s one of my best gifts of all and the most fun: seeing Christmas for the first time, through his eyes.

>Toddler Adoption: Adjustment, part VI

>VI.
That’s fancy schmancy for 6. Six.
Six months.

That’s how long I’ve been home now.
I can’t believe it!
Neither can my family.
In one way, it feels like forever.
In another, it’s still all so new!
So, well, organizing my thoughts can be tough, so instead I’ll make another list.
My impressions on six months:

My reasoning processes are getting much more sophisticated (hence, this post!).
I understand most words now, though not always the long sentences when mom is on a roll.
I am working on my words.
They keep asking me to repeat them though, sheesh, what am I? A baby?
I throw ’em a bone now and then though.
I’ll repeat a name or new word.
That’s always a crowd pleaser!
I must have almost ten words of my own though.
Most importantly, I’ve got: hi, up, football, mama, dada, dog, car, book, shoe, sock…
Oh the list goes on (or will).

Food, man, it’s good!
Love mom’s cooking.
We had this big dinner last week – all the food was amazing (except that meat stuff).

Love bedtime: night night.
That whole cuddling quiet thing: good stuff.
But not really sleeping so much.
Naps? Who needs ’em?

Toys? Toys, schmoiz.
Give me a ball!
Or a truck!
Those are the only toys that really count.
I think that perhaps a ping pong ball is the perfect specimen.
Love the music.
Seems like they have tons of music at this place.
Which is really great cause I love to dance.
And I’m starting to sing too, cause it just makes me happy.
I hope I sing as good as my dad or big brother though.
Not like mom.
But my big sis sounds pretty good too.

Want to see me make everyone laugh and then someone chase me?
Watch, this works every time.
Yeah, I strip.
I can get out of ANYTHING.
Yeah, they try to twist the overalls.
Doesn’t work. Makes me laugh at them.
Who needs a diaper anyhow?
Peeing on the floor seems to work great,
if I can do it fast enough before they grab me.
Hate those diapers, all of ’em, cloth, paper hate ’em all.

Stairs?
No biggie.
Got rid of those gates a while ago!
They just slowed me down anyhow.
Heck, I don’t even have to hold on going up OR down.
Yeah, I can do most anything, I know.

This brother thing?
Man, it’s the best.
The littler fast one or the really tall one – doesn’t matter, they are all great.
The middle one?
He’s a crackup. Great wrestler.
Crazy fun!And Mom?
Well, for some reason, I just really really need to be right with her.
No kidding, I don’t understand it myself.
But holding on to her leg, crying to be picked up, well, I just gotta!
And if I have to, I’ll scream for it, I can’t help it.
I just need her.
They say it’s separation anxiety and a natural regression, that it’s healthy.
So, no, I’m not worried.
I just need her.
She’s swell, even if she says her arms get tired and I’m so big, I don’t care.
So mostly, I’ve decided this family thing is pretty good stuff.
If it’s this good at six months, who knows how cool it will be six years from now!

Wow.
Shh, that’s my next word to spring on them.
I’ve been practicing.

>Aerobic Mass, part two

>

Another Aerobic Mass today.

{I should’a known, really.
We went to the later mass,
since we had to say an early goodbye to Buddybug this morning.
So, I
prayed the “humility prayer” to try
to settle my moody self this morning.
What was I thinking?
It works
every time, doggone it.}

But even so….You know it’s a peak day when you get these comments:
“Oh, I see it’s one of those days!”
“I heard him.”
“He’s sure a handful!”

Or, my personal favorite:
“Well, I hope you can have a good week!”

Sigh.
Good thing he’s so cuddly the rest of the time!
And one more thing, while I would have LOVED to be there…
probably best we weren’t at Mass or Vespers here.But, oh to be there for this…
the new liturgical year begins today. Go, see. (h/t to American Papist).

>Advent of Advent

>

So, it’s coming. No, it’s almost here.
Advent, I mean.
Tomorrow, tomorrow begins Advent: the season of Advent.

And I love this season.
And so of course I have a jumble of thoughts.

Some say that Christmas is just not the same anymore. Lights and stores are too fast off the mark. I get that. I like to have my holidays separate to themselves. I want to see Halloween decor in October and Turkeys, pumpkins and pine cones in November; rather than red tufting and elves already. However, in a way, these holidays connect. I think Thanksgiving is sort of a “pregame” for Advent.

Thanksgiving is a coming together of family, very often a literal arrival of family. There is a flurry of anticipation and preparation; a making ready. For thanksgiving, we make ready for our loved ones to come home, to visit, to be with us and for us to welcome them. We work ourselves silly, we talk and sit together, we feast together. It’s a bounty; of time, of food. We celebrate the love of family and friends and how no matter our differences or the old scratches and hurts….that family is still there, no matter what.

And that is exactly what we do for Advent too, but not only on a personal domestic scale, but on the global human eternal scale. We prepare for the coming, the advent, of our most real family. And that is why the holiday of Christmas is even more important. It calls to deep recognition of the beauty of that gift: of family, of incomprehensible love. It gets skewed, yes. It gets distorted, yup. Just like what is important in our immediate families all too often gets distorted, skewed, spun by unmet expectations.

Advent is our chance to prepare, fully, inside and out, for the coming of what is most real and the truest love. We get four weeks. Christ is coming. And while every year, I mean to be mindful throughout this season…..almost every year I blow it. But even so, it’s worth the effort. Living this season, in preparation and anticipation of this birth, this family, is worth the effort. It is more than challenging in our modern warp speed times. {For those of you modern hipsters, here is a link just for you (ahem: coffeedoc this one is for you!)}

But that’s why we have candles. We light another one each week, each Sunday night. And each night of the week during dinner. It is the glow of it that reminds us as dark falls outside and we sit, or plop, around the table to eat once again…that there is more here. There is more beyond us and we breathe in and can prepare our homes and hearts and selves. It’s Advent. Go to the Anchoress, she says it better than I can.

We’ve had our pregame. It was great. Filled with the usual crazy tired, too much food, resolutions to really now get in shape for pete’s sake, and the glances across a room, the raised eyebrows and the belly laughs. It was Thanksgiving.
And now, tomorrow, it’s Advent.

So, today I will get out the candles, find my purple tapers and my celtic advent wreath to hold them on the table. We begin to prepare for the coming of Christ at Christmas. It’s here, it’s time!

Get out the candles.
Slow down.
Careful: don’t miss the beauty of this season
(I have, too many times)
.
It’s Advent!

>Gratitude

>This week is already a jumble for me. I have been making lists and checking them twice…no not christmas (please, no way am I ready for that!), but thanksgiving lists: lists of to do, to clean, to shop, to cook. And today they all start in earnest, the happy slam-o-rama of cooking and baking and prepping for guests and for a feast. But so many thoughts are distracting me that I figured I’d better try to get them out, and in keeping with my mode of the week, the best I can do is a jumbled rambling, talking/listing of sorts. I am organizationally challenged…please bear with me.

So, here we go.
This is the week of thanksgiving. But I want to feel, and do feel, more than thankful. I feel grateful. Grateful seems to me, somehow deeper, fuller. It’s not only a feeling of “thank you” to someone for a gift of time or assistance or a thing – although it is so very often certainly that as part of it. Gratitude, for me, is more pervasive, a fuller recognition of the gifts, big and small that I have and see and know. It is what I need to remember when I am swept up into another one of my selfish moods or fears, it is what drives me when I am at my best. It is, ideally, a foundation (all too often, forgotten). The blog Holy Experience keeps a list of 1000 things to be grateful for, always good for some perspective.

For me, the bottom line of gratitude is also relational. Because, for me, while I am and should be grateful for the abundance of material goods and things (and I do appreciate and love them, I do, I am a consumer with the best of them – sadly enough). There is the level of tremendous material thankfulness, for things, for goods, clothes, food, a house, cars, medicine, good shoes, soft beds, the list can go on for a long long time. Thankfulness for money, it is the currency of the material world. But there is another currency, of the world that is the most real, the truest and really the eternal world: and that currency is relational. It is the relationships with the people in your world, the big and the small, the old deep family relationships and the new modern friends and even acquaintances. Even in this blogosphere I have “met” and made so many important friends and I am deeply grateful for these relationships and their ongoing support and connections. The Anchoress writes a post here about community, this is the same track for me and it’s worth a read, go look.

So for me, I need to remember that it is gratitude at work, or should be. Thankfullness is critical but it feels more attached to the material currency (which is not to devalue it). But gratitude is deeper and fuller and for me attaches to the relational currency, the realest world.

Every year, Coffeedocs extended family has always come to our house. It’s a crazy exhausting week, every time. But it is always memorable, always a little crazy, but I love it. Some years we have had over 20 for Thanksgiving. This year will be our smallest ever, only three extras (but that still means 12). Grandma passed away last winter and so this year will be bittersweet, but still I hope very very good. She is still with us in so many ways and so we will play some cards and think of her. I taught the girls a new card game (Blink, a good game) because Grandma always played cards with them and this way, she’s with us just a little closer this week too.
So, we are preparing for Thanksgiving.
And I am grateful and always need to be more so.

Fair warning: list ahead:
I cannot possibly list them all but a smattering:

My family, each child, my dear husband.
My siblings and parents and nieces and nephews and sisters and brothers in law, grandparents and cousins and aunts and uncles.
For my dear wonderful friends young and old and new and near and far, in person or on net.
For my faith, my Catholic church and the richness it adds to my life.
For prayer.
For great food and the ability to make it.
For the Eucharist.
For my health and the doctors who keep my family healthy and the meds and science that do the same.
I am thankful for the chance to bring the family together again this year with a warm house and good food favorites and silly card games and time together.
For the Mass.
For the music that fills my house, especially when all my boys are at home.
For the blooming of this toddler who now gives and asks for kissses and is learning to say our names, who squeals with joy when one of us returns home, no matter how long we’ve been gone.
For a beautiful sweet girl who is half a world away, but now knows we are here too and that we will be together as soon as can.
For a big loud messy family.
For the struggles and tired exhausting days.
For the trials that have taught us/me so much and forced me to grow beyond my hard small shell of self – and for the repeated opportunities to keep breaking that shell as it keeps growing back (ack).
For the endless chances to learn more patience.
For the community that I have learned to see and know.
For the monastery caramels that I cannot resist.
For the saints and their intercession and help and example.
For my son, coming home tonight so all but one of my kids will be under my roof (but soon, I pray, soon).
And of course, ever, good strong hot coffee, preferably with a shot of espresso!

As I said, I could go on and on, but I’ve already bored everybody. This list however, is for me.
Now you can be thankful I have quit. See, one more for your list. Happy to help!

Now it’s time for me to get to work for real. So, I’ll leave you with this, he’ll shoot me, but I don’t care. (I think it was shot w/ one his buddies phones or something so the quality is not so good, but well, I like it) It’s one of my biggies for grateful, it’s on my list, above. It’s from over a year ago, so he’s changed but he’s coming home tonight and I’ll have music of all sorts in my house all week long. I know he’ll play some of my favorites too, hint hint.

>New Sunday Trend

>

Yeah, that’s right, we are talking about “Aerobic Mass.”

Yup, babywrassling in the back, toddler take down,
“you want a piece of me?” protests, “just try and catch me!”…

That “30 day shred?” Grace?
Hey, I’m in the middle of it already: 60+ mins this morning!

Jane Fonda? She’s got nuthin’ on me!

>Almost Wordless Wednesday

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So long ago, but still, a blink. Just a blink ago.

>Autumn

>Ahh, this is when I know it’s autumn, for real. This is when my heart lifts and sings – no matter how crazed the week has been or how hectic, stressed or moody.

When the maple outside my window turns to flame, my heart and soul, too, set on fire with dizzy color saturated contentment. I love autumn.

>Almost Wordless Wednesday

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Basketball season starts today.
All three girls, for the first time…..
Which means of course: the hunt for carpool begins!
Go SJV!

>Happy Birthday Bananas!

>

Thirteen years ago, in the dark night, just before dawn lit up behind the clouds, I remember the sky opening up with thunder and lightening and rain, to accompany your early morning birth.
Even nature wanted to announce your arrival!
Then there you were, a perfectly beautiful little girl, in my arms, to my everlasting joy.
And your father, he learned, instantly, what it meant to have a daughter!
And yes, you were our only baby with crazy colic, but it passed.
And yes, your first word was “up.”
But high intensity people make for very high highs and great passion.
And that is our girl: full of passion and with a huge compassionate heart. Loving, laughing, feeling everything and wanting to see and know the whole big world.
Musical, a great cook, a great helper and sweet, that is you.
Your family and friends mean the world to you,
at the same time as you have a heart to see and serve the world too.
My big girl, growing into big dreams.I love this best of all about you!
Thirteen already, but already growing into an amazing young woman that we are so proud of.
Some dread the teen years. Not me.
I think it’s gonna be a great adventure with you!
We love you so much!
It’s a big day here! I’d better go start the cake!

>Funky, Fine, or Freaks? Pondering the Large Family

>Fair warning: LONG post.

I have been stewing a bit lately. Maybe it was another migraine, pushing my thoughts outside their normal box. Maybe, but I don’t think so. Maybe it has been the intensive discerning process we’ve been in. Or now, the idea that we have EIGHT children (we just need CIS to verify). Very likely, that.

(This is an older picture, w/ our Korean exchange student/daughter from afar,
but not counting Gabriel or our new daughter to come)

But, clearly, I’ve been thinking, a LOT, about the large family.

Now, we, to some, are a large family. To many of the families I know, we are a smallish large family. Or maybe a largish, medium size family. Or a big small family. By some standards we are a middling family, no big deal. But, by others, the vast majority, we are a Large family. By modern American standards we are a freaky big family!

And I think, isn’t that odd?
And isn’t that kind of sad?

But then again, I have to think about that a lot. Because my kids have to grow up in this family. And some people have written about how hard and bad it is for kids to have to grow up in a large family; what a disservice it does to the kids. Hmmm.

Obviously, I have a bias.

I like to think that a large family, or a largish medium size family, or even a crazy big family is on the whole: good for the kids. Kim at Starry Sky Ranch is thinking about this, living it, as well. Worth a read that.

But too often, in our modern or postmodern culture, the large family is considered not only not so good, but detrimental. Huh? Because in the modern ethos, if you are filling all the bedrooms and then some in your house then surely you are shortchanging your kids, right? They must not have all the “things” they need materially. Because modern kids are not only entitled to their own room and an education but the newest backpacks and electronics and flat screen tv’s….really? Ok, I’m not saying everybody holds to this, but oddly enough, I get asked about this sort of thing. And of course, you might guess, I disagree. Kids are not entitled to such, to our excess consumerism, nor is it best for them (and we are all too guilty, all too often, mea culpa). But this is another post topic, really…the idea of how much and of what? Kids need a certain financial stability to thrive and certainly the adoption process ensures that. But it is a much wider swath than some I meet presume.

But to take it further, people wonder, and (to my waning shock) ask outright, if we are being “good stewards” of our resources. We have been questioned, point blank, on whether we have all our kids’ college funds funded (more than once). And you know, thankfully, so far, God has provided and no we don’t have every child’s entire education funded. We are figuring that we will figure it out and we will find a way to be sure that all our children get the education they want and need. It is a priority, but not a panicked stash. This is our personal decision (so don’t flame me, I get it when you decide otherwise).

So really, it begs the question: good stewardship, how is it applied to kids and a big family? Well, I think it’s simple. The best investment, ever and always, is in the life of a child. Period. That may be easy to say, but if we can make it work, we are gonna and so we figure we can raise one more, again. It might not be easy, it’s an expensive process and prospect. But, we, in faith, figure we will figure it out as we go.

But as for stewardship and the good of the kids, there is a much bigger picture to go with…..again, the fingers get pointed at the bigger family. Because you can’t possibly be a good steward of your other resources if you have so many kids can you? Can you really give those kids all the attention they need? Really? The love, the time? Can you really focus on their needs, their individual quirks and nurture them fully?
Yes, you can.
Is it hard and challenging at times?
Um, yeah.
Is it noisy and messy and chaotic?
Oh boy, yup, it is that!

But here’s the secret that people forget. They must forget because surely they know, if they pause to consider. One of the best, the very best, reasons to have a large family is: siblings. Yeah, the rivalry thing is real and can be maddening and intense. But siblings are simply the greatest gift you can give a child, any child. Even kids who have special needs, and might need more of your attention and resources (financial or otherwise); their best gift from you is a sib. Because only a sibling will always be there for them. Siblings are the only people who will have a relationship that spans the lifetime – even if it gets broken. There is still something there. And more siblings aren’t a drain, it’s a literal expansion: of fun, silliness, madness, emotions, opportunities, support, touch, love. They may not always be happy about it, and some sibs will be closer than others. But no one else will make you fall off your chair laughing til you cry when you’re grown. I remind my boys when they fuss that no one else will be able to make fun of me, after I am dead, like his brother. OK, or even now as I am quite alive. Love ’em or hate ’em, there is nobody like a sib. Ever.
And then we come to the one that makes me feel quite the curmudgeon:
“what about you?”
“How can you, as a mom, as an adult woman, feel fulfilled and challenged when you are tied to a house full of kids?”
What about “me time”?
People have asked me this in opposition to our latest adoption.
And you know, here’s my answer:
I do not live under a rock, I am aware of this concept, I see the magazines. And yes I do get tired and burnt out too sometimes. However, I am the most selfish person I have ever met and I must say I have a remarkable knack for carving out ME time.
But my “me” time may not be yours.
And it is a huge mistake to judge how much or of what type is claimed.
And in our culture, there is such an emphasis on self that it has gotten skewed. The best sort of “me” time I can really give, is to my kid (one or all). Not that I always remember that point, or do it. But the times I DO remember and value and that restore, are the ones that are those good quiet parent moments: laying down with a cuddled up small one for a rare quiet moment or two, the discussion (happy, funny, sad, intense) where you make those connections, the sideways look of understanding each other in a crowd (even if that crowd is your own kitchen). Don’t get me wrong, I love having a hot bath, I took the time to run far slow runs, I love a good book. But. When someone, friend, family, or stranger, tells me that we shouldn’t have another child, love another, because it will cut into “my” time (and they have, more than once)…then I’m thinking, um, something is wacked.

And I guess that’s where I’m at. I’m a bit dismayed over the flip. The cultural flip. It’s wonky. We are the stranger now. Our family. We have gone off the grid. We are freaks. We don’t fit, anymore. Because we have been deemed freaky. We are, weirdly, “other.” We feel freaky, really.

But here’s my take on it: it’s not politically correct, but I think our culture is freaky. Our society, in postmodern America (ok it’s even beyond, look at Europe) is the freaky thing. It’s wacked. The family, no matter the size, is under attack and when you are obviously centering your life around the family instead of the golden calf of “self”…well, you are labeled as a freak or crank or a pompous poof….or well, the list could go on and on.

If you are “lucky” people will presume you are ‘strong” or “good”…but even that is not so. Nice to hear, if embarrassing. Because, in actuality I am (we are) selfish, again. Because loving this family is everything to me. These kids, this life, this family, even as it grows…..is the biggest challenge, hardest, most exhilarating, most exhausting, most worthwhile thing I can begin to imagine.So, tell Gabriel that we are a freaky funky family, right after you pry him out of his big brother’s arms. Try it. I think he would disagree….

>Best Kind of Surprise!

>

He’s back! Already!

Pic of {sleepy, crying, woken up} overjoyed mom with my college boy!
{hey, it was almost midnight people, cut me some slack!}

Buddybug was supposed to come home tonight (Saturday) from college for fall break. He was catching a ride from some friends, (thank you W kids! and we’ll settle up the gas money I promise). Being college kids after midterms, they were going to have fun and socialize last night and sleep in and drive today. So, no expectations here of seeing my boy until later tonight. But that’s ok, because I was already working on the pies which needed to be made in advance to set up (graham cracker cream, his favorite) and making plans for cooking up a storm; getting ready.


Well, last night was homecoming for the high school, a late game this week because as Booboo put it: they wanted a win for homecoming so had to “import the team from Iceland.” As usual, I had fallen asleep waiting for the guys to come home from the game. As usual, I was awakened with a large boy diving down for a goodnight hug. But it was Buddybug! “Hi Mom!” I woke with a jolt, and a cry and many hugs! Best, best surprise! He beat his Dad and brother home too, just.

He surprised us all!


So I did what any mom would do:

I fed him pie.