>Eek…..well, you get the idea….

Posted on July 8, 2010 by coffeemom

Yeah, a mouse!
EEEK! A mouse!
In MY house!!!!!!

And, where is my cat??
Obviously, she has slid into retirement.
Which means, apparently, we have a mouse…but you know that means plural (shudder) mice.
For the first time in the FIFTEEN years of living in this old crazy house, we have mice. Okay, for the first time that I’m aware of it. But still.

And, while I didn’t really realize this (Bringing to life the old adage: “You learn something new every day”) I HATE mice.
By which I mean, they kind of freak me out.
Or, as my daughter Hannah put it after seeing me yelp and sort of leap into the kitchen and up onto the counter after finding said mouse as I cleaned my pantry (due to mouse)…”Mom! You’re such a girl!“
Well. Yeah. Seems so.
So I handed her the trash bag and scooted her backside in to finish cleaning the pantry.
No. I didn’t, but I should have!
I did threw the cat in there though as I went to Lowe’s to get supplies.
Yeah….now we’re talking.
I didn’t even think I’d need the supplies after throwing the cat in there.
She’s a hunter! She’s brought me all sorts of disgusting trophies over the years: birds snakes rabbits mice squirrels even.
So. I knew, that mouse was toast.
And sure enough, upon arriving home from the store, loaded for ~~bear~~..erm, mouse…the girls told me with urgency how they heard a clatter and even maybe significant dying mouse noise.
As I opened the door ever so carefully, bracing myself for the awful sight….my old cat sauntered out and I peeked gingerly in.
Nothing.
Let me repeat that: NOTHING!
Now, my pantry is not a big place. It’s a glorified closet. It was empty because all of it’s prior contents were at this point either in trash bags or sitting on my kitchen counter and floors.
Let me repeat that: EMPTY!
No holes that a mouse can run out, nowhere to hide.
What gives?

Well, at this point, we could only figure that somehow this cartoon ninja mouse somehow scampered past my slacker cat and under the pantry door…..wait for it….into my HOUSE!

So. Now the mouse is in my house.
But I kind of put it aside, trying to not worry, finished cleaning and waited for the uber mouse traps that Tom had ordered (knowing my freaked out status) to arrive.

Until this morning.
I was up early, starting the laundry.
My laundry room is UPSTAIRS.
And as I pulled a rolling bin of laundry toward me, out runs THE MOUSE!!!
It’s not even seven a.m., people!!!
This is far far too early for mouse sighting!
This is my laundry room, one could argue, the cleanest place in the house.
Nowhere near food or any good mousy treats.
EXCEPT MY INNOCENTLY SLEEPING CHILDREN.

That’s it.
Game on.
I may have ninja cartoon mice.
My sweet, grounded forever (he’s 20, I know, but still, he’s grounded, I can still do that, right?) son Chris sent me this link on facebook :

Because his sick twisted sense of humor {Yeah, I know, he seems like such a nice boy too…Now you know}is getting a kick out of his mom’s new war and her underlying horror at all this, um…mouse business.

So, back to this morning: I immediately swept sweet toddling waking Gabey up in my arms and took him, pj’s and all back to Lowes, right then, before seven this morning.
And we loaded up on mouse traps and every single mouse deterrent that won’t poison my kids (and/or let the nasty rodent crawl off and die to stink up my house forever) that Lowe’s had. Yeah, I got a raised eyebrow from the checkout lady. Yeah, I said, “I know.” She just nodded. Because she gets it (no Chris not because I scared her, and you’re still grounded).
NO mouse is welcome in my house.
They are not cute little cuddly fluffs.
They are disease ridden vermin and don’t flame me you PETA folks but they are NOT welcome in my house with my kids who like to have sib sleepovers on their floors.
So, yeah, I’m on the warpath and I’m not gonna be happy until I win.

And Tom may not realize it yet, but we are this close to getting a new kitten (Em’s already making plans); we need new troops as our current cat has obviously gone into retirement and her own personal feline Boca Raton.

Tom’s order arrived today. It improved my mood a bit.
I know, I know…I look scary. Good. I’ll show my Hannah how to be a girl. Here’s my new motto: “Don’t get scared, get tough.”
Bring it.
I hate mice.

>And Amat.

Posted on July 6, 2010 by coffeemom

>And Amat. One Year.
Aamata Bal. Anniversary.

That’s what today is.
Today is one year since we met our Marta, and she met us, in person, for real.

This is her “family day.”
We usually don’t do “gotcha days” and such, as most of our kids came home so young.
But for Marta, after this year, and since she is a teen, it’s a big deal.
It’s something that IS important to mark.
{As is the day she set foot in America, post on that one next week…}

For Marti, these days were physical real touchable everlasting change.
Change that rocked her world in more ways than any of us can count.
Change that rocked our family’s world too, in more ways than we can count.
Some great, some hard, some beautiful, some funny, some raw, some Divine, some hellishly selfishly not.

This is our Marta Therese, now.

This is our Marta Therese, then.

One year.
Here is what I know, now.

Marta
is Ethiopian
is American
loves to swim
loves to play bananagrams
loves movies and popcorn
loves to go to the store, any store
loves to shop for clothes
does not like shots
or doctor visits
loves pasta
and pizza
and shiro
and shopping
does NOT like flying
loves dogs,
some days big dogs, other days small
loves babies
loves shopping
loves sports
except maybe tennis
loves watching football games
Notre Dame is her favorite team (and mine)
loves to swim
and shop
gets easily bored
does not like mom or dad leaving
loves her big brothers
learning to love her small sibs
loves church
gets homesick for Ethiopia sometimes
thinks english is very hard to learn
and it is.

Struggles with holidays
and grief
and trauma triggers
but tries hard to hang on.
Works hard on understanding the differences here in America
but finds much of it confusing
and sometimes overwhelming
even though she loves so much of it.
We have found she has some special needs and delays.
But are working on this new learning curve together.
She struggles to get used a big family
after being an only child.
Still grieves her parents and losses.
And will for a very long time.
And that’s very hard,
but it’s ok.

Is very very excited about a new school
and hoping for new friends.
Loves to sing
loves music
is learning drums
which makes her grin
but she won’t practice.
Is all about the hair,
just like every girl
anywhere.

Is very very stubborn,
and tidy,
and sweet-natured
and pushy
and devout
and opinionated…
which fits in fine in our opinionated family.

Is torn between trying to be a big kid
and enjoying the safety of being a younger kid.
Loves watching tv
and huffs when told no.
Loves playing cards,
even with Anthony.
Which is a minor miracle.

Is getting healthier
though she will always have asthma and breathing issues
which frustrate her
and scare her sometimes.
But she is learning we will take care of her
but not give her medicine every time she asks,
which is very way too often,
which irritates her.
Is fussy about eating sometimes
which makes me foolishly fuss at her right back,
and makes us each stare and sigh.
Because she is stubborn.
But so am I.
Then she will usually eat.

Loves sun
and the water
and to go boating.
Doesn’t like rain,
it makes her sad.
Likes snow
at first
and then wants it warm again.
Gasped seeing the ocean for the first time
and loves it like we all do
and wants to go there as often as possible.

Has been to California,
Indiana
Washington
Baltimore
Italy
and Lalibela.
Has seen many new things, all over the world,
and is beginning to understand
that the world is a big big place.
Which can be a hard bit of knowledge to digest,
in it’s own way.
But is also cool too,
especially the churches
and the shopping….

Seems to love having a big, extended family,
with many aunts uncles and cousins…
even when her own new big family can feel like a lot
and sometimes too much.
Seems to understand that it’s forever…
and that is why today is a big day for her
and she feels it.
She has been smiling and hugging this morning.
And so, even though we don’t usually mark this day..

Today we do, and it is a big day for us all.
Which also means, of course….cake.

>Bottom line: Older Child Adoption

Posted on July 1, 2010 by coffeemom

>So, I’ve been writing about adoption, mine anyhow, for awhile. Reading about it for longer.
There is so much out there. When I was considering adopting that first time, over 12 years ago, I hunted for books on adoption. Then the second and third time, I was pretty set, had a few shelves of books already, knew what I was doing (for the most part…). The fourth adoption was a whole new deal: International, Ethiopian, and a toddler. So, a new research set. Fun! In a way. Then we came to this last adoption, my Marta, an older child, a teen from Ethiopia.
**I know, I drone on about this topic a lot. What can I say? I think about this stuff, constantly…I’m living it and it’s a big deal around here.**

And as I went into my standard compulsive research mode, I found…..almost nothing. Trying to wrestle with the decision to move forward in bringing this girl home, to intellectually get a handle on if we could or should; all those “what if’s” that crowd my brain when I feel that nudge nudge nudge toward another adoption…..I searched high and low for, um, anything, that addressed older child adoption. I found precious little. I found some really scary books (which I now use but aren’t nearly so scary…) on hurt children and therapeutic parenting. There were a few on international adoption with a chapter or two on “older children”…but those typically meant five year olds, not teens. I even went so far as to stalk blogs and then cold call (with a quick explanation that I wasn’t a stalker for real) other families who had adopted older teens, girls, from Ethiopia. (Thank you again to any of you who talked to me, if you read this!)

Lately, I have gotten a number of emails asking me about adoption and specifically older child adoption. I am happy to answer any email I get, and do and will.
But it’s kinda hard….in that they ask, “What can you tell me about adopting _____________ (fill in the blank: older boy, older girl, toddler, etc etc). “
That question always stumps me a bit.
Because I hardly know where to begin.

But I do know where to end it.
Adopting an older child is not all rainbows and pink pony’s, it’s not a fairy tale or fantasy.
I know you know that…mostly, but it is so easy to kind of slip over to that view, because, well…it’s a really great view from there.
But this is where you need to stand and gaze and consider things.
No one ever told me and I didn’t read it anywhere except maybe in the harder books, but buried in the therapeutic reports. So, for any of you in the process of adoption, especially that of an older child, or considering it….I’m distilling the countless calm conversations and gulping dismayed discussions between Tom and I (Coffeedad and messy me), here.
It comes down to a very important, easy to dismiss, oh so easy to forget, basic:

Adopt an older child because you are ready and willing to PARENT them.

That’s it.
You can hope to add a child to your family.
You can hope to love them with that fierce mama love.
You can hope to have them love you back.
You can hope for instant bonding.
You can hope for eventual bonding.
You can hope to grow into family.
But it’s not about the luv….
(I know! I struggle -still – with this too, you all know this…)

They might not be able to love, anyone, much less you.
They might well want to fit in but can’t figure out how.
They might want to love but not really know how to get there.
They might want to trust but simply utterly NOT be able to.
They might be so hurt or angry that they don’t even know how to process it all.
They might simply just not have learned the tools yet.
They may have tools, finely honed, that don’t work here, now.
They might simply need to learn what it feels like to be safe, for real, again or ever.

But they do need, are desperate for, a parent.
A parent.
Preferably two.
Every child, even the hardest, needs a parent, preferably two.

(**Disclaimer here, I am not not not addressing the adoptions that disrupt due to RAD or other such hard hard things. I am not in their shoes, and I will never ever ever judge that as I can’t imagine the difficulty, I am too busy surfing through our own and failing too often even there. And even parents who end up disrupting and finding a more therapeutic home, they are parenting to the best of their abilities…sometimes a kid needs more skills or resources than a family has. Sometimes it does take a village of sorts.)

But the point I want to make is that the ‘LOVE” is gravy.
The love is what we ALL crave and fantasize about.
Oh boy, do I!!!!!
The trust is years, maybe decades, in the making. Only with real trust can come real love.
But the DOING of love is the parenting.
And that is the love these kids need.
Especially kids from hard places (to co-opt Dr. Purvis’ term); they need to be parented.

So. That is the foundation, the bottom line.
Older child adoption (from anywhere), means taking on the job of parent.
That is not a job for sissies.
Let me repeat that and please, really really think about it: they need parents.
It is NOT a job for sissies.
It is the hardest work you will ever do.
Period.
If you get anything else: love, cuddles, soaring mama bear feelings, all those wonderful hallmark feelings: it’s gravy.
And you can do the happy dance.
Heck, I’ll do one for you.
But in the meantime, you’re on the job.
You’re the parent. You’re the mama.
And that kid? The one who is glaring at you when you weren’t expecting it, when they should be happy sitting on the beach or out to dinner? Pulling away from everyone when they are just overwhelmed? Sometimes they just need some time. But, ever……well, they need you (even if you’re just giving them space).

This is the bottom line though, that you should know about older child adoption.
It’s the parents.
They need them.
More than you know.
More than they know.

So if you are investigating older child adoption…please keep this in mind.
If you’re already doing it: good job, well done, keep running this race.
And know this: you’re not alone, I’m running right next to you.

>Almost Wordless Wednesday

Posted on June 30, 2010 by coffeemom

St. Patrick’s Well. {Pozzio di San Patrizio} Orvieto, Italy.

A very cool 16th Century well, huge, 175 ft deep, 45 ft. wide. Built with a double helix stairway.

One up, one down. Early traffic planning, to say the least. 496 steps.

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>Flying Triggers

Posted on June 28, 2010 by coffeemom

>Catchy post title, eh? Sounds kinda “Kung Fu” or “martial arts slow motion special effects”: “Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragons” no?

Maybe it is in it’s own bizarro way – in that this post is about how or IF you can bend backwards and or jump over the flying sharpened knives of flying triggers.
But this post is also about how flying itself is a trigger for our newest daughter.
Maybe I shoulda titled the post: “Crouching Mama, Hidden Triggers.“

Confused?
Hang on, explanation follows:

So, we’ve just come back from a once in a lifetime kinda crazed huge family vacation.
By which I mean, we are a huge family, it was a huge vacation, it is always kinda crazed…..full of rollercoaster highs and lows as well as some peaceful lazy times in the Tuscan sun.

All of this, the highs the lows the crazy loud messy spectacle of our family in general, was kind of expected….we knew to a large degree what we were getting into. I mean, look at us! It’s not hard to figure out and we’ve lived with us long enough to know most of the land mines, even the recurring big ones.

Except a few key ones.
The Triggers.

And as these key triggers, or this one key trigger, might be something that could give some insight into others in a similar boat (or, erm..plane…)…. I’m posting.

It took us until the end of our trip to figure it out. Ok, me. And honestly, I think it was a little bit of Mercy (yeah, capital M) showered down on desperate me (Thanks be to God) that it even clicked.

But, finally, something did click during another bout of inexplicable weepy meltdown and acting out by Marta….and I realized: she’s scared. Not sick, as claimed. Not sad, as claimed. Not angry. Scared. Not just scared, even.
Terrified.
And thus her terror had triggered a cascade of trauma response: fussing, mean, weeping, grimacing, freezing out, complaining, dragging, coughing, getting sick in various ways… I’m not talking about weeks or days of this. This plays out over the course of a morning, or afternoon.

A swift collapse of a fragile house of cards.

That’s a trauma response.
Very easy to slot it into the generic kid slot of: kid behaving badly.
But that would be a mistake.
One that I’ve made often enough.

But in older child, hurt child, adoption…you cannot forget that you are dealing with a kid who has more hurt than you can know, more fear triggers than you can realize.
It’s so easy to forget that.
And get aggravated at manipulation or another round of acting out (Yeah, see, no wonder mom awards here….).
And often it can be just those mundane but annoying things.
But then there are the times, which look identical, that the behavior has another layer or many.
And those times are the ones you need to sift through, to brace them through.
To hold on and weather it, even if it’s not fun….and just be there, with them so they can ride out that fear.
And get to the other side.
And maybe, next time…maybe, have a slightly lower fear trigger response.
Maybe.

Anyhow. This particular trigger response was due to the whole travel passport thing. As you might remember, our Marta wasn’t allowed to travel in a timely manner, due to the change in regulations regarding TB cultures. Not only that, she had been told that we were coming to see her and then we didn’t. And even now, that is still something that imprinted on her – despite explanations – that we didn’t show. (Thank you very much, CDC and Homeland Security). Thus, nowadays, if we fly, she gets very very nervous. It manifests as illness, grief, anger….all the “fun” stuff. If a passport is involved? Even if it’s a BLUE USA passport???? A kind of terror. Truly, irrationally.

Yeah, I blame that whole nasty delay of ours. I suspect if she hadn’t had such a hard time getting home, she wouldn’t be so terrified of the process of it. But she did. And she is. And it makes flying hard. Exhausting for all, but most especially for her. Tom and I {He is MUCH better than I at doing this} have to leap over the flying triggers, reach through the tears and wiping nose and tense hunched shoulders and pull her back – hang on tight to her to let her know, somehow, that she will come with us. No matter what.

But trust is a long time coming – true trust.
So, in the meantime, we jump and bend and twist to get past the daggers of terror. Not as gracefully as the folks in the clip above. Not very gracefully at all. Clumsily, stumbling, we muddle along. Hoping for a bit of improvement next time, and a memory that “it can be easy” to replace the seared memory of it being impossible.

This is older child adoption. The part that isn’t talked about too much: the stumbling gymnastics of trying to read the body and behavior language of a child who comes with history. It is a constant work in progress, sometimes beautiful even in the leaping…sometimes a slow waiting game for that trust and understanding to be laid down.

But here is the hope: when Marta finally landed on our last leg of the flight home, she hurried off our little plane and stopped in the terminal. I was catching up with Gabey and saw her fling her arms out wide, and say, in a big voice with big grin, with big relief “I LOVE America!”

So we landed with a happy relieved laugh for us all. Home again. Whew.

>Sunday Italiano

Posted on June 27, 2010 by coffeemom

Rome

Some Sundays in Italy…..

Orvieto

Lucignano

Sunday, lovely Sunday

Arezzo

>Into the Garden

Posted on June 26, 2010 by coffeemom

>Now that we are back from our trip, I am back to routine blogging. Which means, you all get to read my mundane stream of consciousness….or mundane musings. Or not. But at any rate, I am content at home and doing the simple life here. Or as simple as my life can get anyhow, considering.

So, without further ado, yes, you knew it was coming, a post about my garden.
This is the second year in a row when I got all excited about my garden, a for real bona fide actual veggie/herb/flower garden. I had great veggies in my beautiful raised beds, made my my Tom and the big boys. I had my roses coming back in their big pots by the sunroom. I moved my tomatoes back into big pots so I could put them in the very sunniest part of our deck (I’m gonna start calling it a ‘terrace’ after being in Italy…sounds extra lovely, doesn’t it?).

The original garden, last year, with proud Jon.

I had great hopes this year.
Last year we went to California to see my family and then, finally, to Ethiopia to get our Marta.
That ended up being about a month of being gone, almost.
Deadly to my garden. Sigh.
This year I had it planned. My nephew was gonna be my gardener. His mom is a wonderful gardener with a bountiful garden at home. Hmm, but my nephew wasn’t quite as up with that idea as I was {Funny, he wanted to swim, and play…go figure}, plus, of course we had oh, floods followed by endless rain and then brutal heat.
Then I came home – again a month of me gone from the garden.
A sad sight indeed.
Too sad to even take a photo.
I’ve been ignoring that sight all week in my busyness with laundry and re-entry chores – cleaning the attic for pity’s sake!
But yesterday and today, I knew.
It was time.

I got up early, because I woke up early and thought: “GET UP AND GO SALVAGE YOUR GARDEN OR AT LEAST PUT IT OUT OF IT’S MISERY AND YOURS.”

So I did.

It was a job to take on:
I had lettuce trees.

Mine looked kinda like this, but much much taller….

like the Redwoods of bolted lettuce.

I cut em down. Aw.
But bolted lettuce is not sweet. Bitter.
I had to cut down my straggly woody dead basil and roses (cut those back far and hope they come back).
Weeded weeded weeded.
I tied up my tomatoes and cut off the useless suckers and such.
Refertilized my tomatoes and veggies and roses with good organic stuff; I don’t know what’s in it but it’s supposed to be the best: “Tomato-tone, Rose-tone,”…catchy, no?
I cut off the tops of my tiny boxwood basil plants and hope they recover too.
I cut down my thick stems broccoli that got huge gray leaves but never flowered and won’t as it’s too hot.
Weeded weeded weeded .
Replanted new basil plants which cheered me up just seeing them in their happy red pots again.
I wrestled w/ the squirrel netting and finally got it into the trash bin (ding ding! I won that bout).
Cut back my knockout roses, sprayed for blight, and hope they recover, ouch ouch ouch. Those are SOOO thorny.
Weeded weeded weeded.

Then came inside back into the cool of the early morning house and had a cup of strong coffee.
Done.
For this morning.

And for my efforts I have eight tiny little cherry/grape tomatoes today, bursting with flavor (there were nine, yum) and the promise of more to come.

>Birth of St. John the Baptist

Posted on June 24, 2010 by coffeemom

It’s a Solemnity!

It’s a Solemnity of a happy day: the birth of St. John the Baptist!

Now, I’ve gone over this before but a solemnity is actually a big deal feast day…not really like it sounds – solemn in the sense of sad or grim. Rather, it’s a specially marked day to remember some of the very important figures in our faith and history. Obviously, St. John the Baptist…he’s a biggie!

Now this also means it’s a feast day of sorts for my Jon. You know: patron/name and so on. No surprise then, really, that I see many overlaps in character traits between these two John’s/Jon’s. That’s how these things seem to go. Names somehow evolve to seem very apt. Maybe it’s all projecting by the parents, but even so….it’s my blog and I’m the mom and I’m going with it.

So. Here we have a day to remember and mark: the birth of this remarkable man, the herald of Christ to come, St. John the Baptist.

Heck, even before he was born he was jumping around and making himself known, pointing (or kicking…) toward Christ. When Mary went to visit Elizabeth, arriving and greeting her with a big hug, John lept in Elizabeth’s womb and Elizabeth knew, deep down, that something was up. So I’m presuming it was more than your usual kick/bump/push by the babe. Must’a been a whopper of a flip. Maybe a little prenatal jump for joy? Actually yes:

“Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit, cried out in a loud voice and said, “Most blessed are you among women, and blessed in the fruit of your womb. And how does this happen to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? For at the moment the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the infant in my womb leaped for joy.” Luke 1:41-44

Ok, this painting is

Visitation by Mariotto Albertinelli (1503) and I saw it in the Uffizi.

I LOVE this painting. I do.

So, that’s just cool.

But, what ya gotta also think of, ok, what I think of, is that little John…he was no milquetoast. I mean, even before he was out and squinting at the light, he was already pointing and pushing and making a bit of a ruckus. Elizabeth, she should have sensed what was to come. Maybe she did. Tho, not many moms will even dare look ahead to such radical futures for their kids: heading off into the desert, scavenging for food, not wearing the nice clean linens that we got or made for them…nope, not what might have been dreamt. But it was precisely his hardheaded radical ways that made him who he is and was. Those very traits of fearless speaking out earned him followers and prepared the way for Christ. It was exactly like it was supposed to be. So he got the biggest honor of all: baptizing Christ. Whoa. He got to take part in a miracle for all to see. And still he was his own kind of raggedy but strong difficult stubborn self. To the very end, even to his beheading (another vision that no mom wants to even consider, yikes).

El Greco, you know I love his stuff….

So, for all of us, we get to think about how to be countercultural today. How to say the truth, even if it’s hard. How to stand up for what is right, not necessarily easy. How to stay clothed in the less than flashy skins of integrity, loyalty and humble truth. And my Jon, he has these qualities (maybe needing some work on the humble part…he’s 18 after all….): he has deep running integrity and a radar seeking truth, he is a champion of the small and weak.

{Yeah, even will stand up for his sisters…go figure}

He will speak out, in the desert or in the face of the powerful. I know he too will do great things, even if hard. And while sometimes I might personally want to roll his head down the hall in frustration…I DO wish him a different end than that of his patron.

But today is the day to celebrate the BIRTH of St. John the Baptist, not the end. To think of the promise that even that little baby showed and that his intuitive saintly mama knew, from the very beginning: he was special.

Happy Solemnity!

Tintoretto, 1563

>Almost Wordless Wednesday

Posted on June 23, 2010 by coffeemom

Last day: Montepulciano

(yeah, that Montepulciano…you crazy gals know what I’m talking about.).

Our little town: Lucignano. Home base, we all fell in love.

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>It’s the Dad thing

Posted on June 20, 2010 by coffeemom

>Something about Dad’s.
Gotta love ’em.
They can make you crazy, but still, ya gotta love ’em.
Dad, Daddy, Father, Pop, Papa, Pops, Pappy even (?), Pa, Da, Abbat, Padre, Pere,….
It’s all Dad.

And there are two dads that mean the world to me, my Dad, of course, and my Tom, dad to my kiddles.
And they are the best.

First, my dad, aka Pops – on those cheery days.
I love my dad.

As dad’s are supposed to be, he was larger than life to me as a little girl.
And I suppose in many ways, he still is, because he’s still the dad…it’s a lifetime, ya know?
He’s part of many of my favorite things:
Riding horses, yakking about everything and nothing.
Sipping hot strong coffee, yakking about everything and nothing.
Reading the paper in the morning, commenting on the news and everything and nothing.
Comparing wines, and yakking about everything and nothing….
You get the idea….
I love him for his loyalty and his steadfast grit, no matter the tide,or his opinion on my choices and my opinions.

He’s my dad, forever and always and I love him.

ANd then we have the other big dad in my life, the “pardner dad,” {I can say “pardner”, because we both grew up out west. It’s in our blood.} my Tom.

He’s such a great dad; such a great partner in raising this tribe.
He pulls up the slack when I am a slacker.
He pulls me up out of the indigo when I fall into the blues.
He can make me and/or the kids pound the table in laughter, so funny.
He is steadfast and sure, a rock to my rollercoaster of passion and mood, good or bad.
He loves his kids to distraction.
He is easily distracted by fun new adventures and toys, to their delight and my sometime consternation.
He is a born teacher, to my delight and to their sometime consternation.
His love and gift for music has carried into his children, all of them, in one way or another…enriching all of our lives.
He works far too hard and carries too many burdens; and without complaint, though he sometimes does daydream about moving to islands….
He is an adventurer, but stays close to home and it’s needs regardless, tamping down that wanderlust and craving for new thrills.
He is strong inside and out, steady and sure, kinder than me and a softie on the inside.His girls totally pegged that, right away.
His boys don’t always believe it.
But he is.
He’s the dad.
He will go to the ends of the earth for his children, and has.
He’s the dad, and we all love him so, and are so grateful for him.
I love this man, the dad of this clan.

So, I want to wish them both, and every single other dad out there, a very Happy Father’s Day!

You all deserve some kudos for a very tough, long, hard wonderful job.

And a big thank you.

Happy Father’s Day!

>Almost Wordless Wednesday

Posted on June 16, 2010 by coffeemom

St Peter’s and the world.

For more Wordless Wednesday, go here.

>Another Day Older, Again!

Posted on June 13, 2010 by coffeemom

{Reposted w/ current tweaks from two years ago…

because I’m traveling and it’s my birthday and so I’m taking the easy way out}

Today is my birthday. I am 48.
I had always naively entertained the idea that I would age “gracefully”….
Whatever that meant…

HA!

Now of course, I have come to realize the truth: I have never done anything gracefully and won’t be able to do this so either.
Rather, I will do it like I do most things: clumsily, boring all around me with my vanity and driven controlling ways and opinions and ideas. And at the same time I will go kicking and griping over the cliffs of the inevitable decline and collapse of my body.

I will never be elegant and chic.

I will have very gray hair turning all too quickly to white.
I will have a thickening body being remapped with wrinkles and sags.
I will have spots from too many days in the sun.
I have my mother’s hands.

Middle age is no picnic.

Yet, despite my clumsy ways and self, I have a richly woven tapestry of a life – surrounded by so many that I love so dearly. I have the strength in my arms to hold eight children. I have the arms to hug so many others for missing moms and try to let them know that a mom loves them and it feels like this. I have been able to find niches in my heart for many here and others I have even recently met in Africa, ones I won’t see again but who will stay with me.
All that is worth every gray hair, every wrinkle, sag, and spot.

I used to be bothered by looking at my hands and seeing my mother’s. It was, somehow, shocking. But oddly enough, not anymore. They are mine. They are hers.
They’ll do.

I never used to tell folks when it was my birthday, although I’ve always told my age. Somehow it didn’t seem like I should mention it. But, then, I decided that sets a bad example for my kids. As I tell my children, birthdays are for celebrating! And so not to be a hypocrite (at least this time)….I’ve said it. And tonight I will have some red wine and a piece of tiramisu or icy lemoncello and kiss all my children and husband. And while the kid’s bdays and my husband’s are ever so much more fun….I am very grateful for mine.

>Sacred Hearts

Posted on June 11, 2010 by coffeemom

> You know, I always get a little chuckle out of the biker tattoos and punk or rockabilly co-opting of the Sacred Heart image. Some might well gasp in shock or tsk tsk…but really, I think it’s kind of a flipped, inside joke.

I mean, I know it’s supposed to be, in many tho maybe not all cases, radical and all… and a way of thumbing their punk biker noses at organized religion or God or whatever. But to me, it’s a little joke on them. Because I really am not sure you can walk around wearing a Sacred Heart image without it somehow, in teeny tiny ways, rubbing off on you. God’s funny like that. He’s got a great sense of humor….look at my family, look at me! Jesus, I would guess, is fine with a biker having a tattoo of His sacred heart…at least He’s there, right? Isn’t it a little bit like a small boy writing “Mama” on his arm with a sharpie and then going in and being a out of control little rebel? It’s that natural conflict that we all have. These tough punkers or bikers seem to be much the same. Can you say “arrested development?” I can. {Ok, now I am sure a fleet of rough tough bikers will want to come rumbling through my yard….please. Have a sense of humor, life is short!}

And really, even ~~punk~~ hipster mamas can carry their babes in these “rockabilly punk slings”, see just below…I’m not even sure what to make of that! Good or no? Hmmmm, good, really….but too few really understand so the public at large will think you’ve gone punk if you cart your kiddo around in this. But the really hardcore Catholics might give you a big high five! What’s a mom to do?? Ha! And speaking of moms…tomorrow we could, maybe, look at some fun co-opts of pop culture and Mary, talk about conflicted children! Folks can’t stop splashing her around…but she’s cool, or, as the youngsters say, “chill” (they say that right?), because we old moms know that just like with celebs, any publicity is good publicity. (To a degree…there IS blasphemy and sacrilege, but this is a happy post so we won’t go there this time.)

Anyhow, today is the Solemnity of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, June is the month of the Sacred Heart. {I lifted this part of this post, shamelessly, from a prior post on this solemnity, because of the travel thing, so cut me some slack ok!? Thanks!} This is an old devotion, a private devotion and one that helps any day, every, day be more mindful. Read all about it here. It helps transform our mundane regular daily grind into something bigger than ourselves – and instead offers our mere efforts to Christ as a way of showing we love Him, despite ourselves and our habitual selfish nature. And it’s not just this month, it can be done year ’round, of course.

When I make this offering in the morning, somehow it helps my days. It doesn’t make them smoother, it doesn’t make them all jolly…but it makes even those “terrible horrible no good very bad days” into something more. It’s a comfort. Oddly, I am often more out of sorts when I forget this prayer to start the day. It’s like resting my head on His chest for a moment before I hop on the whirlwind of the day and try to lasso it.

So, yeah, it’s another Catholic post. It’s an uber Catholic post, really. Meaning, it’s one that might seem strange to those not familiar with it all (though I don’t mind explaining or questions either, I can take it!). It’s one of those old Catholic devotions, but it’s a goody. And if any of you are having days that are way stressed or out of sorts, I’d suggest giving it a go if you wonder… because really, what’s the risk? A little comfort? A little extra grace in the day? What’s not to like about that?

Odilon Redon, The Sacred Heart

Heck, maybe you’ll want to get a radical tattoo…but because devotion to the heart of Jesus IS so cool, AND so radical, that you’d be hip to be square! Who knew?

>Almost Wordless Wednesday

Posted on June 9, 2010 by coffeemom

For all the moms.

For more Wordless Wednesday, go here.

>Corpus Christi

Posted on June 6, 2010 by coffeemom

{I posted this last year but want to repost, since I”m traveling..and if I get it together to post fresh, well, great, and if not, I still want to mark this important day. }

painting by Paul Gauguin

It’s the feast of Corpus Christi: the Body of Christ.
It’s one of the greatest Mysteries of the faith, capital “M” mystery again…one of those that boggle and baffle the mind. One of those you belief or you don’t. Period.
I do.

It’s the Eucharist. The body of Christ. It’s a gift, a sacrament, it’s utterly holy and sacred and, at the same time, the most intimate thing on earth.

I can’t do this justice of course. To read more about this, with historical support, go here.
To read a good piece on how to bring together your mind, heart and senses on this, go here.

All I know is that I like thinking about connections a lot. You know that. I like that whole connected relational brought together linked adopted bonded sense in (my) life. I see it so many places that it gives me chills if I stop to think about it. And that is what I find to the utmost, mindblowing, heart zinging way in the sacrament of Communion and the Eucharist: the most intimate connection and unity that can be. Ever – in this world. And I yearn for it and reach for it and I sink into it with relief and gratitude and wallowing comfort and gratitude.
And I don’t understand it with my mind.

But my heart and soul know it’s more real than anything else.
John 6

>Anthropol….oh gee!

Posted on June 3, 2010 by coffeemom

Recently, I had the ~~task~~ privilege of chaperoning a school field trip for my Little Man.
Happpily for us all, a little mini-anthropological study evolved out of that sunny day at the zoo.
Who knew? They call anthropological studies “fieldwork,” this is “fieldtrip work.” Read on…

It was a kindergarten class field trip, and in a fit of guilty zeal I signed up as a parent chaperone. Now, I know better. I do. I’m an old hand at the mom world. But I was struck with guilt as I have been swamped with special needs issues and such all year, so I signed up and watched the calendar with ~~dread~~ anticipation.

Upon arrival at the school for the trip, after tanking up with gas for my car and a redeye (Espresso, c’mon people!) for me, we were handed car seats and names of our charges. Anthony’s teacher, “the saint” (otherwise known as Ms. Thompson), assigned me “the good ones,” by which I mean, my Anthony and two of his buddies who are nice little boys. Lucky me! So with a renewed bounce in my step, I strapped them all into the my big ol’ car and followed the chaperone caravan to the zoo.

And so it began.
The day’s renewed primer on six year old boys.
It’s easy to brush off the behavior of one energetic, ok, kinda wild, six year old boy as just a high spirited lad. When you have three of them in your car, giddy with the anticipation of lions, tigers, and bears (oh my!), then you realize, they are something of a species in and of themselves.

I had forgotten just how fixated six year old boys are on “pee” and “poop” and how just the very words can make a boy fall right out of his seat guffawing, belt and all. Or how it’s fun to experiment with how many variants you can find for bodily functions. Or how those bodily functions can be turned into countless jokes, simply by appending them to passing sights. “Look, the clouds are peeing!” Insert maniacal laughter here. Six year old boys don’t need music, or polite chat, they only need a forum for relentless scatological jokes. A moving car with a captive parent and a participatory audience is ideal. Best to make a note of that, moms. Happily, however, the variety and creativity with which they apply this focus speaks well for their imagination and breadth of alert cognitive engagement. Right? Right.

On a cautionary note, I will point out that any field trip mom’s worst nightmare is when one of the assigned children (who you do not know well, or at all) clutches his pants about halfway through a 45 minute freeway only drive to the destination, and says, loudly, with some urgency, “Gee I wish I wasn’t having diarrhea.” Not what a driving mom wants to hear. Happily, with some encouragement, the boy made it to the park, successfully, and was able to make use of their facilities….often. But that is why they have them and thus we field trip moms are happy those facilities are in place. {Note to Nashville Zoo: more facilities in the upper and lower sections of the park would be most helpful rather than the center main facilities. Your main patrons are children. These are little kids we are talking about, their bladders are the size of peanuts.}

But I digress. Taking a small group of boys to the zoo is an opportunity to watch a drag race, up close and personal, but instead of flashy loud cars you have flashy loud boys. And oh, these six year old boys are fast! As soon as we lined up to enter the zoo, they were revving their engines, through the turnstile and they were off!
Zoom, “We wanna see the alligators!” “Ooh, look, cool look at their mouth!“
Zoom! “We wanna see the monkeys!” “I see them up there, what’s next?!“
Zoom! “Let’s go find the tigers!!” “WOW, look at him, what’s next!?” and so on.
By the time the chaperone, myself, caught up with the boys (And really, I have a very fast walking pace, so this was impressive) they were burning rubber of their tennies, racing to the next animal. I think I had time to say a whole sentence one time, “Oh, wow, look at that tiger, how beautiful!” before I was coughing on the clouds of dust kicked up by their run. Thus, we saw the entire zoo in a zippy loud 45 minutes, thus allowing for ample time on the amazing playground and many trips to the restrooms. We even got to see parts all over again, for good measure, after lunch and before our second trip to hang at the playground.

This rapid mode of sightseeing at the zoo may be frowned upon by some. However, it has a certain charm of efficiency and leaves no room for boredom, thus matching the attention spans of most six year old boys. It can be summed up by the term: expedient. Six year old boys are nothing if not expedient. Watching meerkats for more than 30 seconds is not expedient. Waiting for lorikeets to drink out of your cup of liquid gold, also known as sugar syrup, is not expedient. They snooze, they loose, those birds must find another source…. perhaps the middle school girls who just received three sugar syrup cups shoved into her hands as the boys exit, off to race to the next thing.

Finally, it can be surmised from observation that a six year old boy is most content, or rather, utterly overjoyed to spend the bulk of his time at the zoo playing on the large playground. Running, racing, jumping, climbing, laughing, shouting, hooting, growling and roaring in the playground is the fullest expression of the nature of a six year old boy.

One might even decide that the giant zoo playground is the well crafted exhibit and ideal habitat for the underrated species more commonly known as “six year old boy.”

>Trinity Sunday

Posted on May 30, 2010 by coffeemom

It’s Trinity Sunday, the feast of the Holy Trinity.

This concept of the Trinity, it’s one of the mysteries in our universe, our faith, and my mind. In fact, if you ponder it long enough, and get close to thinking, “Aha! I’ve got it! I understand it now!”…then back up, you’ve just slid into heresy, presumption, and you’re wrong.

There is no fully complete understanding of this. It’s a mystery with a capital “M.” One our puny human minds can’t ever really fathom: three persons in one God. The simplest way I’ve been able to grasp it is the catechism answer: God the Father, Christ the son, and the love between them SO powerful that it begets it’s own person, the Holy Spirit. {Yeah, sounds familiar, no?? In marriage we love each other so much that our love begets another whole person, or more…. Kinda the same thing, but with the Trinity it’s compounded to a factor of unspeakable billions, beyond our ken.}

This is a short terrific book about the sign of the cross, which is, in it’s purest form, a visual, physical recognition of the Trinity. A very good quick read, but will make you think again about this common gesture. As you make the sign of the cross, touching forehead, chest, shoulder, shoulder, and say these words: “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”….well, you’ve pretty much just summed up the most important bits of, um, everything.

Anyway, I’m no theologian. If I start to think too hard about the Trinity, this mystery, my brain starts to scramble and ache. I prefer to gaze at this icon, above. It’s one of the oldest, most classic and best. It does the best job of what icons are meant to do: to be windows into heaven. They help represent the unknowable, the divine. They help our minds and hearts and prayers step through that window into the divine. Gaze. Rest. Look. Ahhh.

Happy feast of the Holy Trinity!

God, we praise you:
Father all-powerful,
Christ Lord and Savior,
Spirit of Love.
You reveal yourself in the depths of our being,
drawing us to share in your life and your love.
One God, three Persons,
be near to the people formed in your image,
close to the world your love brings to life.
We ask you this, Father, Son and Holy Spirit,
one God, true and living, forever and ever.

From the, collect: prayers of the day.

>Clown Cars, Italian Style

Posted on May 29, 2010 by coffeemom

>******NOTE: yes this is a travel post. But to any bad guys out there, while we are in Italy my big burly brother with anger issues is staying at my house, plus well trained guard dogs. So, look somewhere else for your poor decisions.******

Today we are traveling from Rome to Tuscany.
Which means we have to rent cars.
Which means we have to rent two cars.
Which means we have to try to cram all eleven of us plus luggage into two cars, for a number of hours.
Which means Tom and I have to each drive a car….on Italian roads…possibly into Rome!
Which means I will be hoping that the owner of our villa greets us with some good Tuscan red.

Which means we could use your prayers today:
for safe travel on the wild Italian roads
and also for peace and serenity with our sure to be squabbly kids who are stuffed into these two cars. Sort of like a clown act at the circus.
But without the funny wigs.

>Don’t forget that it’s May

Posted on May 28, 2010 by coffeemom

>Because May is a special month, this is a last reminder. Better late than never. And, never too late.

It’s true, so many religious…not only priests but also monks, brothers, sisters…they pray the rosary for us, every day. For you. For me. And I know it makes a difference. I count on it. I think the least we can do is say thank you by praying back for them sometimes too. Think about it.

>LIghten Up!

Posted on May 26, 2010 by coffeemom

It’s the Feast of St. Philip Neri!

He is a saint I should really get to know better. Because I love to laugh and yet, too often get caught up in the to-do’s and then forget. I forget to laugh. And really, what a pity!

It’s too easy to think, and a common trap, that having a life of faith, trying to live a life of faith, must be so serious. Really? Does it have to be? Well, sometimes, sure. But always? Golly, no. No one is going to be drawn toward any sour saints, are they? Nope. Heck, don’t you think that God doesn’t want any sour saints either? Who would? But it’s an easy trap to fall into. Mea culpa.

Anyhow, St. Philip Neri is a good one for reminding us that laughter is one of God’s greatest gifts to us all. I think you can be dead serious about what is true, even as you glory and laugh in the wonder of what that really means too. St. Philip was very serious and devout, dedicated to his prayers, but he also had a compelling personality, loved to talk and even would have music and picnics on excursions to visit churches. He lived in a very corrupt time; he worked hard to restore a strong spirituality by hosting “oratories,” formal talks and music that focused on spiritual topics. Even so, he was known for his great sense of humor and practical jokes, in addition to his gentle manner and his skill as a confessor.

He got it. St. Philip understood that you can enjoy the bounty and fun of God’s goodness, even as you live a deep and powerful life of faith. He became known as “the apostle of Rome.” And, as that is where I am at the moment…today I will ask St. Philip Neri to say a prayer for my family here and everyone on my prayer list.

Happy Feast Day!

Saint Philip Neri,

we take ourselves far too seriously most of the time.

Help us to add humor to our perspective —

remembering always that humor is a gift from God.

Amen

>Let the Fire Fall

Posted on May 23, 2010 by coffeemom

Pentecost, by El Greco

Breathe into me, Holy Spirit,

that my thoughts may all be holy.

Move in me, Holy Spirit,

that my work, too, may be holy.

Attract my heart, Holy Spirit,

that I may love only what is holy.

Strengthen me, Holy Spirit,

that I may defend all that is holy.

Protect me, Holy Spirit,

that I may always be holy

Prayer to the Holy Spirit by St. Augustine

painting by Titian, Pentecost.

>"Can I go with you?"

Posted on May 20, 2010 by coffeemom

Lately, Gabriel has developed a new intensity. Some of that is just standard issue three year old boundary testing. However, it occurred to me, today (because I am a slow study) that part of this intensity is actually different from my other kids when they were three. There is an undercurrent of intensity to his relentless pursuit to “go.” He wants to go. Everywhere. Nothing makes him happier or can get a grin and a jig out of him faster than being told, “You bet, let’s go.”

We’ve all been thinking that it is just “going” for the minor adventures that are “going” places in our busy days. But, as I drove today to Sarah’s school for a class project (Living museum, very cute), I was stewing about Gabey and his kind of desperate begging to “Go with you.” Especially when it comes to myself and his dad, Gabey is desperate to go. With us. Anywhere. Everywhere.

Today it finally dawned on me, and you could argue that I’m overstating it, but my gut thinks otherwise. Knows better. Gabey IS desperate to “Go.” He has a much more intense need to go with us, beyond your standard three year old desire to go and be with their parents. His is different. His is, after all, an adoption remnant. It’s very easy to think that he’s been home two years now, and thus he is over all his adjustment. I know better. But even so, daily life sweeps a lot of latent stuff off the radar. That’s just how it plays…until it smacks you upside the head or you run into a wall. {Well, in my house, that’s how it plays…we’re a fast moving place.}

This need has a root.

Gabriel was left.

He was left at eleven months.

It wasn’t just being left on the side of the road.

But he was taken to an orphanage, in a planned relinquishment by his great uncle.

Goodbyes were said.

And he was left.

And he was old enough to not understand.

Not even a little.
But old enough to be confused and scared and missing his family.

And I can see in his pictures from that time how closed his face was.

The immediate shock of that event is submerged by those pics, maybe, but it still shows.

It’s so easy to forget that he experienced that. And it imprinted. And it’s deep and it’s primal. A primal scar. And sometimes, I see a glimpse of it, when he cries out in his sleep, “Don’t leave me!” Or, when, now, every day, he clings and grasps and holds on and says, “Can I go with you?” He will say it twenty times in a row, he does not want to take no for an answer. Sometimes we have to say no.

But now, as I realize what is under that relentless questioning desire and need, I am saying more often, “Yes. You betcha.”

And then I get this, the sweetest smile on the sweetest face.

And my heart swells right up to my own grin.

“Yes, my Gabey, you can go with me. Forever.”

>Almost Wordless Wednesday

Posted on May 19, 2010 by coffeemom

Just one more.

Post graduation giddy.

Love this boy.

For more “Wordless Wednesday’s” go here.

>Pomp and Circumstance

Posted on May 17, 2010 by coffeemom

We had a big weekend around the Coffeehouse.

My boy, my Booboo…Jon…graduated from high school!

Which means we had a weekend of celebration and sniffling up a few happy tears but mostly grinning from ear to ear that he did it, and he did it well! We are so proud of him, happy and excited for him. He is now ready to rocket into a future of big adventures.

Here are the pics. These are from the beautiful (My favorite part of the graduation ceremonies) Baccalaureate Mass, then from Graduation itself (venue change from flooded Opryland to the Belmont Curb Event Center). I’ll save the most of the commentary except to say, it was once again pouring all day on Sunday, (changing the fashion choices and making us all a tad bedraggled) and that this graduation was special, of course. But they are a really great group of kids and this bunch has one of those rare group friendships that is a gift to all. And, last but never least, this boy, my son…he makes my heart burst.

Friday night. Before the Baccalaureate Mass….excited and happy for my son (and he cleans up well!). Marta was giddy over the thrill of her first graduation weekend of hoopla and for her adored big brother.

After, proud happy parents, happy Jon.

After the Baccalaureate Mass, with a few sisters.

Sunday: The real thing, shaking Bishop’s hand and getting the diploma! Hooray!

(thanks Marcie/Fred for the pic, those seats paid off!)

We have a bona fide graduate!

Shaking hands with the Headmaster, Faustin Weber.

First steps out into the world,

girlfriend Leslie and good friend Gabriella.

Jon, with cigar (a nod to tradition/dad), channeling his inner Columbo….

Jon and my goddaughter Olivia, priceless.

>"Acoustic Flood:" Song for a Friday

Posted on May 14, 2010 by coffeemom

>Ok, it’s late, but still worth a listen.

My son Jon, Booboo, wrote and played and recorded this for me for Mother’s Day.

It’s a song: “Acoustic Flood,” but I rather prefer the title, “Mom’s Song.” Just for me. It’s acoustic guitar, one of my favs….and it’s tailored to me, for me, because I fuss at him to play “something nice.” Jon is very creative and loves to spend e~~very waking moment~~ a good bit of time fiddling with his music stuff. Often however he asks me to listen to his latest creation or some music that he and his friends were making and that he recorded. Often that music is, um, LOUD, and ELECTRONIC, or RAP and just too hard for my old stodgy ears, I guess. That’s when I fuss and say, “Good…but, oh, play me something nice.” He usually rolls his eyes and says, “I am!” And around we go, but with a smile.

So for Mother’s Day this year, he did it. Jon played me “something nice.” He made me smile, and he made me start to cry. Because THIS sound is my son, my Booboo, and his playing makes my heart kinda burst.

Have a listen, it’s a treat {h/t to Marc}:

http://www.google.com/reader/ui/3523697345-audio-player.swf?audioUrl=http://media.marcandsuzette.us/misc/acoustic_flood_clean_up.mp3

>Going up…

Posted on May 13, 2010 by coffeemom

Ascension. Today is the feast of the Ascension of the Lord.

Painting by Salvadore Dali.

Now, I have written before about this, and how it kind of always boggles my mind. Because I am a visual kind of gal, I always get stuck in the imagining of this event, in the unimaginable visuals. My mind wants to do a whole movie panorama on it, more old Cecil B DeMille flicks, less Spielberg…but I digress. My point is that I can get all hung up in trying to SEE this, and understand it….which of course totally misses the point. As usual.

But there are two cool parts to this that I could spend the rest of my life meditating upon, and in fact it would surely do me much good. I won’t, but maybe I should.

The first part I wrote about last year, again, here. It’s the whole concept that Jesus went to prepare a place for us. He went to get things ready for us, at HOME. Home. Not our current abodes, apartments, houses, condos…but our true home. And that is with Him, eternally, in heaven (I hope and pray). I mean, how cool is that?? I don’t know about you, but I’m not the greatest hostess on the planet. I failed Martha Stewart 101. I have to write post-its to remember to put nice folded towels in the guest bath. But here, the God of the Universe, of everything, is heading off to prepare a place for us! Now I don’t know what that entails in heaven and all, but even still, He’s already on the details.

I know I know, this is really talking about bigger picture stuff, but even so, God is in the details too and you know it. Ever looked at the marbling in granite?? Or the marbling in marble? Huh? Stared into a tiger lily? Don’t tell me that God doesn’t pay attention to the tiny details…so I can marvel that Christ left the apostles, ascended even (another spectacular detail), to go and prepare a place for us, the best place: Home. Ahhhhh……joy.

The second part of this very cool event, this mind tripping visual, is that this ascension also signified a new and different status for the apostles…which of course trickles right down to us, me. He said to them that he would go, but he would send the Holy Spirit and then they were going to be sent too. Out. To witness. To tell the world about this wild amazing truth, this mind blowing love. That it was real. He let those apostles SEE him ascend, not just fade away like the Cheshire Cat with his grin the last to go…

nope, he ascended as they watched (and surely, gaped and pointed, and held out their hands and maybe both laughed a bit and cried a bit too). But certainly they had to be electrified; how could you not? Surely, this very change from followers of the earthly bodily Jesus to witnesses was facilitated by this ascension. I mean, literally, they witnessed it. They witnessed it all: yeah, the ascension, but also Christ himself on earth, his miracles, his passion, his resurrection, his heart, his voice, his smell, his smile.

They knew him, like the world could not.

And thus they were the first, sent out with a bang, to bring that excitement to everyone. Big job, but then again, big cool. Much to think about with this day….

O King of Glory,

Lord of Hosts,

Who didst this day ascend in triumph

above all the heavens!

Leave us not orphans,

but send upon us the Spirit of Truth,

promised by the Father. Alleluia!

The Liturgical Year: Book 9

>Radio, oh, oh! Updated w/ link

Posted on May 12, 2010 by coffeemom

>Well, sometimes life throws you a curveball. Sometimes it’s a crazy or hard one, and sometimes it’s a crazy or fun one! Today I just caught a curve ball…but this one is fun!

Yup, who’da thunk it?
I’m gonna be on the radio today!
Now it’s just a small, quick flash….maybe a minute or two, but even that has me ~~very much~~ a little bit nervous and excited both.
So who’d want to talk to me? Well, apparently Catholic Charities New York on Sirius/XM radio does, for a brief moment!
The weekly interview show, “Just Love” with Monsignor Kevin Sullivan has a brief bit in the beginning of lighter topics and they asked me to talk with the very nice Marianna Macri a bit about the whole “mom blog” thing. I guess, I’m Catholic, I’ve got a blog, and I”m a mom – fits the ticket! And well you all know me, I will always talk if someone asks me to! So I said yes, and now I pray I don’t sound like a dolt. Besides, I love Catholic Charities, they all do such great work and so I’m always on board for pretty much whatever they ask!

So, if you’re interested, it’s around 1:10-15 or so, eastern time. Sirius Radio channel 159, or XM 117 or online. It’ll either be good, or a really great way for God to make sure I never get too prideful, eh? Throw a prayer my way if you are of the mind to, so that I at least speak in intelligible sentences. Whoa.

Msgr Kevin Sullivan, on “Just Love”.

UPDATED: I did it! It was great fun and they were so nice! I blathered a bit as I tend to do….sorry! But maybe the best part was that my mom called me IMMEDIATELY afterward, and she told me she listened to the whole thing (to my great surprise) and that she thought I did great. Aw, what a good mom, but she MADE MY DAY. Because I am still six. Even so, I love my mom and this was fun.

Here’s the link, I come on the show around ten minutes in, but the whole show is worth a listen of course. Catholic Charities folks are always a good bet for a great conversation!

>Go Girl Go…

Posted on May 11, 2010 by coffeemom

Do we like Suess books and sun?

Why yes we do, every one!

Marta has been working very hard on her reading and Dr. Suess has been one of the mainstays of her effort: specifically, this book and also her chuckle of this week, The Foot Book. Below, we have some really great progress on “Go Dog Go!”

>One Week, coming out of the water

Posted on May 10, 2010 by coffeemom

Photo by Larry McCormick, The Tennessean Newspaper

It’s been one week. One week since this region was turned upside down. One week for us to see how great the people here can be. This is why I love it here, the people. This is maybe the best compilation of this flood. Look. See. Help. It’s simple…..

It’s easy, go here: Best clearing house for help:
Hands on Nashville.

>Mothers. Happy day.

Posted on May 9, 2010 by coffeemom

>It’s Mother’s Day!
So first and foremost, Happy Mother’s Day to ALL the mom’s out there, around the world! Yes, I mean exactly that. I mean it for every kond of mom too: mom grandmom birthmom stepmom godmom spiritual mom in place heck even virtual moms! We moms deserve best wishes all the time, even more so today. So God bless each and every one of you.

Next, Happy Mother’s Day to MY mom! I love her.
She is just the mom, my mom. Which means that:
I love her,
I laugh with her,
I argue with her,
I gab with her,
I call her for recipes,
I brag about my kids to her,
I fuss about my kids to her,
I cry to her,
I check in with her,
I walk on the beach with her when I’m very lucky,

I gossip about the sibs with her,
I learned what I know about cooking from her,
I have been too critical of her,
I roll my eyes at her (still sometimes, oh dear),
I have her hands,
I have her hair,
I compare shoes with her,
I compare recipes and menus with her,
I miss her,
I love her.

So, for me, Mother’s Day is to wish my beautiful Mom, Happy Happy Day!
I love you so.

Another Espresso, Please

Why, yes, I did just have one, thanks…

>Eek…..well, you get the idea….

>And Amat.

>Bottom line: Older Child Adoption

>Almost Wordless Wednesday

>Flying Triggers

>Sunday Italiano

>Into the Garden

>Birth of St. John the Baptist

>Almost Wordless Wednesday

>It’s the Dad thing

>Almost Wordless Wednesday

>Another Day Older, Again!

>Sacred Hearts

>Almost Wordless Wednesday

>Corpus Christi

>Anthropol….oh gee!

>Trinity Sunday

>Clown Cars, Italian Style

>Don’t forget that it’s May

>LIghten Up!

>Let the Fire Fall

>"Can I go with you?"

>Almost Wordless Wednesday

>Pomp and Circumstance

>"Acoustic Flood:" Song for a Friday

>Going up…

>Radio, oh, oh! Updated w/ link

>Go Girl Go…

>One Week, coming out of the water

>Mothers. Happy day.

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