Chocolate ice cream

So, in confession recently, I was given the most erroneous... er wise advice by a priest who first laughed heartily at me. When one is sincere and sitting rather vulnerably in the hot seat as we view it, but more aptly sung about as the seat of mercy and the dispenser of God's grace erupts in a fit of laughter over your private sufferings it is morbidly humiliating. But, only for a few seconds if one is open to, perhaps another peek and view into their personal struggles.
He said and I quote "Well, if you were to get rather obsessed with chocolate ice cream for awhile and then got sick of it. Then simply stop eating it and over time the desire for it will come back..." This was not in response to any sensual or sexual reference btw. In fact, later after I recovered from his first fit of mirth he could see that I was a bit disconcerted and in his caring restrainingly held his cheeks still from guffawing over my question... "It was only by virtue of his much advanced age that I decided even to consider its value. Not that I don't trust younger priests to be the vessel of the Holy Spirit's wisdom, but this was a complex issue that I was much vexed over, his prescription was rather simple and basic for the level of my angst. However, I did exactly as he suggested and he was perfectly correct, of course. Chocolate ice cream, in form of the desire to serve my dear children in the manner of focused daily and unending education has returned and with such passion as I could not imagine it would. Thank you dear Lord for priests who have good wisdom and a sense of humor that aid in restoring my own.

Inspiration

Drove to Franklin, TN this weekend for a Writer's conference. A surprisingly, charming and bustling population center a hop and a skip south of Nashville. My very close friend, Debra, came with me and we, as always, seem to have an amazing sense of synchronicity. That is when not surrounded by all fifteen of our children (the total sum of our progeny.) Very few people in one's life are those in which hours of non-stop lively chatter can be comfortably punctuated by an hour of complete silence. If rest of body and soul is the aim and one is fortunate to find a companion of this measure beg, borrow or steal them away with you, it is most profitable. Perhaps it is the intrinsic understanding of large family mothering, hence the need for silence and mind frittering or that it is the familiarity that allows such a comforting relationship. It doesn't matter, it is the rather organic changes that occur within that reflect the value of such. The fruit born of this weekend in which time spent with two vastly different types of kindred spirits combined with metal stimulation and rest will undoubtedly ripen over time. However, before even arriving home a creative energy inspires the fulfillng of a long neglected task. God through nature has provided the most fantasaical fort on our land. It is the product of many decades, I can well imagine, of foliage overgrowth. The bushes and trees have melded and twisted into a large abode of rooms and a canopy roof with a fallen trunk serving as a lookout, there is, as unimaginable as it seems, even a thickly, gnarled vine the diameter of a small child's writst creating a perfectly formed arch as an entryway. By what means this amazing structure constructed itself is beyond me. The gift for my children is the stuff of dreams and fairies, it belongs in long forgotten bog in Northern Ireland where pixies territorially battle the faeiries and employ Shadowtail's cronies (our resident squirrel postman) to keep watch for predators... and yet it finds itself at the back of my property. So today I endeavor to clean it up and plant a flowery vine to wrap itself around the entryway arch and make it safe for the children's endless enjoyment. Why this particular impetus out of a writer's conference? Perhaps the restoration of the value of wonder!

Exercise

The obvious thing about exercise is that, much like money you must invest yourself to get the dividends. And dragging my children with me to Shelby Farms to traipse as quickly around the various trails as possible, I find two things: It is exhilarting and indeed pays off in energy payback. However, the additional energy thing... this applies to the children as well... didn't think of that...

Boys and grandboys!

Having five sons and soon to be three grandsons provides for unlimited observation of "boy bravado." As a girl or middle-aged woman depending on the moment, it is with unending fascination that I watch these disarming forces of nature. Girls, I can relate to pretty quickly on most levels, boys... let's just say the more insight, the better. We have a fairly interesting range of personalities within our brood, from in"vin"cable (Vinny)and Christopher to reflecting and sensitive Alex. Luke and Zach are a lot alike in that they are both first born guys. Luke arrived after nine barren years so the first born moniker applies and he has jumped quite naturally into the role. They are independent, confident and able to scale small buildings in a single bound. They just seem to succeed at everything they try, excepting self-government. Why is that? I think that overconfident bravado may be too much self. Yet, I can see that this has it's advantages and significance in a boy's tool kit.
We kinda laugh at the fact that Vinny was born to swagger... he also exhibits first born qualities in my estimation. We have video of he and Gianna (his twin) toddling around. Her little feet just twinkle across the floor as she hardly brushes the ground. Vinny, shoulders hunched forward, a determined grin looks at though he is at football practice about the hit a dummy full might employed. As scripture states that a good name is rather to be chosen than great riches... we should have considered that Vincent means "victorious conqueror." So far he has conqueroed all territory within his five-yo range and melted our hearts as well. Not bad for the 5th son of a 5th son...

Out with the plastics!

A couple months ago made a real honest to goodness green decision. There is a place within me that wishes I could say it was altruistic for the good of the earth and the future of all life, including mankind, imagine that backwardness. However, is was due to a health emergency the details of which I am unwilling to divulge publicly, specifically because it relates to one of my children. If you want to know... ask privately, I may share for your individual benefit. So, armed with parent guilt, it was mission impossible here, get rid of as much plastic food containers as possible, including cups, plates, storage, ziplocs, purchased food and sauces(especially anything acidic.) The result, a slow, but easier transition. Our grandparents were just begining the introduction to Tupperware and I have picked a few octogenarian brains for inspiration resulting in gifts of antique glass containers, lids included. Also, for those of endeavoring to move in this direction, walmart, kroger and Target all seem to be accomodating this demand for glass containers, they are providing a plethora of choices! So, as I open the cup cabinet and view the abundance of jelly jars... I smile a glorious realization that we have officially become a rural Tennesseee family, gotta love it!!!

Hope!!

Constantly distressing news assaults our spirits these days. From tainted food supply to rogue countries and their nuclear arms endeavors it is rare that we get a real, actual nugget that show some sort human restraint! Individuals seem to have a much less egregious approach to life since they are often simply surviving, but when we collectively, as a government or corporation, we delve into ethical and moral implications the decisions are often deplorable. But, today I am encouraged. Wrote a book and in the middle of it's sequel exploring the dangerous slippery slope of patenting human genes. The U.S. patent office has come out officially and stated that they will not, until further notice, patent any more human genes!!! GO U.S. Patent Office!!! Still, the word "more" in that sentence is a bit unnerving...

life with kids

"Humbirds!" Our 2yo Mariclaire loves the hummingbird feeder recently installed on the dining room bay window... and apparently so do a few "humbirds." Just have to express my unending surprise over joy caused by my children's discovery of nature. The simple and mundane, the common are not when experienced through their eyes. Perspective is everything and blatantly I ride the wave of my children's fresh and enthusiastic embracement of every form of life they encounter. Worms, wriggling tubes of enthralling adventure... okay, I did think, poor worm, hurry, wriggle away.

Garden Experiment 2009

Organic Gardening

Having experimented somewhat successfully with organic square foot gardening and companion planting last year...for pest control used Nasturiums, marigolds and Garret's juice. (2 tbslp. minced garlic, 2 tbsp apple cider vinegar, 4 tbsp liquid seaweed must apply every time it rains, but effective against a whole host of problems.)
Expanding garden this year. Here is a pic from last year's. My green beans, red and yellow bell peppers, romaine, kale, spinach, mustard greens,tomatoes,zuccini and cucumbers all did pretty well considering the fact that we planted in a place where due to trees, it only got 4 hours sun a day. Pumpkins, watermelons, cantaloupe... not so much. rotted before they could get ripe. Moved to new location in yard will get 8+ hours now!
Fall garden didn't really pan out as this was an extremely cold and snowy year here. Did have 1 kale, 1 swiss chard, 1 sugar snap pea, 2 cilantro (surprisingly) and about 20 garlic survive.
This year have so far planted peas, swiss chard, kale, romaine, baby bib lettuce, orange and red bell peppers, tomatoes, shallots, yellow onions, purple onions, cabbage, broccoli, curly spinach, flat leaf spinach, mustard greens, watermelons, bush and pole beans, cucumbers, dill, basil, thyme, marigolds (for pests) and nasturiums oh, and added asparagus as well, 3 year old crown.

Bread

Made Parisian Daily Baguettes again, much easier this time, made 7 loaves... family loved them, of course. One interesting TIP that he shares is that bakers do not use chlorinated tap water, apparently it changes the flavor and sometimes the texture of the bread. Hmm.

Healthy Living/Organic gardening

http://www.nongmoshoppingguide.com/SG/DownloadtheGuide/index.cfm
http://www.seedsofchange.com/enewsletter/issue_55/companion_planting.aspx
http://www.enn.com/top_stories/article/21413

Egg allergies

Eggs are in many, many items that you would not expect. Pretty much all commercially baked goodies, pasta, cereal etc. You have to check labels for dehydrated egg additions... also in lots of sauces, ice creams... you have to double check... which is why a simple diet with lots of fresh veggies, fruit and simply prepared meats makes life much easier with someone who has this kind of allergy. We finally ditched most of the starch carbs for snacks, always eggs or peanut traces in them. The kids adjusted and eat apples, grapes, carrot sticks, broccoli to dip, bell pepper strips... etc for snacks.. it blows me away a bit I think I would have starved myself to death if my mom tried to to do this... Thank God for this grace!
A nice baked potato or rice or quinoa dish is fine... but, steer clear of boxed side dishes eggs are often in the ingredient list even if near the bottom. Have been experimenting with the no eggs pastas... can I just say Yuck! Currently working on perfecting a home recipe... still a work in progress... must say however, my first crappy try was better tasting that the store bought.

Feeding kids with allergies

Having ten kids the odds of having someone with food allergies is pretty high. Having dairy issues on both sides of the family makes it nigh on inevitable. Including me, I think there are 5 of us who suffer some sort of dairy issue, congestion, lower abdomenal distress, to mention the just the obviouis things. Also, have one who has a combined egg and peanut allergy, oh yes, he is fun to feed. When eggs and peanut butter are some of the most used quick and easy protein sources for little kids. Aargh. Having to learn a whole new way of feeding him has been challenging. Did I mention he was number 9 in our lineup, yeah so, old habits die hard, ya know.


So what have I learned?

Eggs are not needed to bake anything. Let me say that again because I was literally shocked to learn this. EGGS ARE NOT NECESSARY WHEN BAKING IF THEY ARE A MINOR ITEM IN THE RECIPE! Well, there are always exception, such as custard and quiche, but back to these later. How many times did I start a recipe realize that I didn't have any or enough eggs and stop the process to go purchase or borrow an egg? The eggs reresent a binder and some good old fat for moisture. The binder is replaceable with many things, my personal favorite is applesauce (bananas work great as well) simply because their mild flavor doesn't change the intended flavor of the item to be baked. You must also replace the fat, but, a little oil, butter, shortening, ground flax seed will all do the trick, think volume of an egg yolk.

Rosemary

During the calm before the storm, each morning, it is a habit of mine to pray while making breakfast.the house is quiet. Everyother Friday is history co-op and an accompaniment to a meatless pasta dish intended on making the Rosemary Filone into bread sticks. This morning while chopping Rosemary from my fledgling bush the scent which resembles balsam and the incense which is used for the altar kept me company during my moring offerings to the Soverign. I thought this particularly appropriate imagining the scent an incense to the Holy of Holies before my approach. Aromatic herbs are one of those rich gifts that contain so many distinct facets and purposes. I have heard the euphemism "God is in the details." Well, he certainly created a world with so many cool details.
Oh, and btw the breadsticks are delicious and I hope my girlfriends enjoy them.

Bread. Food for the Body and Soul.

One would think, being as devotedly Catholic that I am, this would be about Jesus in the Eucharist. But, it is about bread, the food, in it's humbler form.

I have been baking bread for years. Try to replace commercially produced, preservative and high fructose corn syrup laden breads several times a week. Often quick breads fill the bill (yeast not being the leavener of choice here) with a hearty, corn-bread, or a southern, style biscuit whole grains snuck in, of course. Still, the endeavor is to produce a lovely, yeast bread, rolls or pizza dough several times a week. It doesn't always happen, but with some very simple and consistently, reproducible recipes bread baking and consuming occurs quite frequently here.. I keep thinking that it shouldn't evoke the emotional satisfaction that it does. But, perhaps it is the same as pulling fresh vegetables from one's garden after organically, battling all manner of creatures and feeding them to family. It is also ant act of creativity, I decide what to make and do it as simply or full of flare as I choose. Another great factor is that after it is made, the job it done. Most jobs are never done, the sheer frustration of having to accept the partiality of a job finished is something that has caused me great trauma over the years. Bread once baked is finished.
This year it seems has been one in which most teachers would probably take a year sabbatical. Not that the enjoyment of teaching is gone, but the day to day responsibility feels heavier and more confining. As all things are providential perhaps my dear mother-in-law passed on a book that had come her way, or maybe she was actually thinking of me, I don't know, but, am very grateful that she put into my hands just what my sucked dry of creativity brain needed. "Local Breads - sourdough and whole-grain recipes from europe's best artisan bakers." by Daniel Leader.
While traveling just leafing through the book caused a serious baker's binge. The pictures of velvety, airy rye and whole-grain breads were like quick-witted come backs to the flat and heavy, whole-grains of my past. Like Frankenstein with the evil laughter in the background I could not wait to use the base recipes and add my own flare.
First, I would follow the recipes and learn. Wish I had a picture to share of my first adventure.. It was so thrilling to look around my kitchen. baking stone? check. Bread peel(wooden pizza board) ckeck. parchment paper, check. yeast. check, organic flour, check. spring water. check. Mwahhh!
So, I began simple Parisian Daily Bread, page 66.

I wasn't prepared for the numerous steps. Or the focus to learn something very new.
Mix, knead, ferment, give a turn, divide and reshape,shape the baguettes, form the couche, proof the baguettes, score the baguettes, bake. Geez my recipes really are simple.

See, I thought I knew how to make bread. Hah! Shaping the baguettes? Yes, that is when it happened. I touched this precocious, silk parading as bread dough. Hadn't even baked it yet... just holding the marvelous stuff in my hands I realized that I had never made bread before. Suddenly, I felt like a peasant being granted the favor of protecting the crown jewels. Anxiety, must be careful not to screw up the baking of this most auspicious of dough. Which of course, I did, somehow I put waxed paper, instead of parchment (the boxes do look alike) to couche the baguettes which then, of course baked into the bread.
It didn't matter. After spending ten minutes slicing it off, my family devoured almost every last crumb. My husband who never, and I repeat never compliments anything(at least not verbally.) He is a perfectionist and nothing ever quite reaches the state that inspires praise, well, he did, he said it was delicious. I thought, delicous? daily bread?. So I tasted it and it was delicous.
Later that evening when the baby took off her diaper and pooped on my bathroom floor and the 5 and 8 year boys were still fighting and keeping eachother awake an hour and half after being put to bed and I was arguing with my 12 year son that his ipod was mine until his chores were done and my 5 year old woke up and couldn't go back to sleep and at 10p.m. the only one asleep was my completely cooperative kids the 10 year son and 8 year old daughter, I just smiled and felt no stress because that evening, because I baked the first real bread of my life and it tasted amazing.


That was a month ago and I have been reading the book in my bathroom, and simply biding the time until I could "do it" again. Today, I started a "liquid levain" with the intention of making sourdough some week or so from now and the exciting thing is, you use only the yeast from your flour and air, no prepackaged, it wiil be interesting to say the least. Also, made a "biga" (water,flour and prepacked yeast that will sit for 9-17 hours.) with the intent of making Rosemary Filone, have been wanting to use my rosemary bush for something other than pork loin. Seems like a long wait until tomorrow, but time passes quickly.

Mother of God, Mother's Guide

Dear Mother O’Blessed are you,
How can I love these children with the love you gave your son? He was, is and always shall be God. How do I gaze lovingly upon that jelly stained face and feet decorated permanent marker, the fork holes in the couch? How do I see the glow of creation in that pile of dumped sugar and the teeth marks on his brother’s back? How can I desire to cuddle him while I am cutting the petrified sucker out of the carpet that lies next to the puddle of honey deep underneath his bed? How does my motherly joy express itself as they push each other into a shelf filled with glass jars of pickles in the grocery store and then push the emergency exit only door open while I consider which shoes would be the most comfortable for his little feet? And dear Blessed of all women how do I act meek and humble when I lay out their dutifully washed somewhat matching, soft, flannel jammys only to find that in my 1 minute of absence from the bathroom the water covers the entire floor seeping down through the kitchen causing the light to short out and despite repeated, death threats and discipline have gleefully emptied the entire shampoo bottle in the tub, again! So how is it that I am supposed to be meek, humble, holy and loving… and sane?

What kind of mother were you? Mother to an infant who in the womb brought you shame and suffering. Mother of a boy who grew up in a carpenter shop… lot’s of tools and dirt and sweat. Mother to a boy who not only thought he knew more than you, he did! Mother to a boy who at 12 thought he could stay in a strange city alone without notifying you or dad and thought you should just understand. Mother to boy you could not afford to give much to. Mother to a man who brushed off your request, so you had to gently reaffirm your authority and remind him to respect and obey you. Which he did. Firm and gentle, reaffirm firmly and lovingly, constant and consistent. If I look into Christ’s eyes as I look into my child’s eyes the way Mary did, it will be a constant reminder to affirm and reaffirm my instructions, firmly and gently, which constrasts angrily and frustratedly…. Ouch.

Pillar of Virtue who I cannot possibly emulate, what did you model for mothers? To be: Humble, meek, peaceful, just, mournful (contrite), pure of heart (seeing goodness in all things), merciful, accept persecution, act for justice. Hmm, the plan for the kingdom of God. Really those are the attitudes that all Christians especially mothers are supposed to have? In Christ’s words… the sermon on the mount… I am doomed.
Humble: against my pride.
All right, but, how? Firm and gentle. Well isn’t that every mother’s goal? How? Perspective, perspective and attitude are everything I have told this to my older children repeatedly. What perspective? The five principles ~ everything is providential, (Pure in heart - ) seeing everything in goodness and humor… okay I can definitely use that. How can I encourage a struggling mother if I have no experiences with which to share? Now, that he is 24 my 2yo dragging his arm across 3 connected sheet cakes and harvesting the frosting into a bowl made of his arms and the colonel and his wife that laughed so hard I thought they were going to pee themselves is quite hysterical… perhaps they really needed the laugh that day and God in His wisdom knew I would survive the humiliation. I just noticed that humor and humiliation come from the same root… it means dirt. That is me dirt that God breathed life into. Humble… dirt, that I can emulate. If I am not so worried about how I appear to others my anger over my children’s behavior dissipates and my punishments become more training and habit forming, firm consistent. Yet consistency is my greatest challenge, it seems. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is week, no doubt. In Mary’s fiat where she is declared “Full of Grace…” her response to this is to clarify her position… “I am the handmaid of the Lord.” And when Elizabeth declares her to be “Blessed among all women…” Mary responds in kind,“He has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.” Honestly? The very word servant and all that it encompasses does not evoke warm fuzzies or visions of noble goals. Truly it is not how a pragmatic, modern woman envisions herself as successful and emotionally healthy and triumphant. Yet, if I can begin to embrace the meaning of this concept, I begin to embrace the joy and intensity of purpose to which the Lord has called me… Father’s words have resonated within me for a couple years now… “my mother was never tired, she never tired of serving us.” It has irritated me and confounded me and I just keep passing it off as a son’s idealistic perspective of his saintly mother. But, once, just a smidge of this truth I found.
On Christmas Eve, so many cool things to do presents to wrap, food to prepare for the next day’s feast, picking up so that the impression of the sacredness of Christmas morning would be an additional gift to my husband and myself. Nearing an ungodly hour, I was exhausted, truly could not keep my eyes open and yet knowing no one would notice half the things I had done I didn’t feel unappreciated, instead of anger, a deep and peaceful sleep. Yes, my physical body was done for the day, but I wasn’t tired of serving I could have done more. Did I find every special and fun surprise for the stockings that I had hidden? Did I pull out the tablecloths so they would unwrinkle… lost thoughts as my consciousness quickly faded. Is this what you were speaking about? To never tire of serving, it is so much more than never experiencing a physical exhaustion, in fact when accompanied by such… no time for temptation, no time for insomnia, no time for worry or anxiety. Such gifts selfless service bring… how contrary to all my culture infuses into my understanding. Lord please “look with favor on the lowliness of your servant.”

Meek: This is tough I have to get in their faces to even get their attention. To quote Dr. Ray Guarendi –“some kids you have to shoot a bazooka over their heads every ten minutes or so just to get their attention.” I seem to have an abundance of “some kids” in my family. “God created us as unique individuals.” Thanks for reminding me of this Father Pinto. I sometimes relate to one kid or another’s plight and really punish the others who don’t “understand” them they way I do. Yet, even in my gentleness with the one and the firmness with the other I get agitated. My father told me that when he had six teenagers he stayed sane by not taking their antics and personality quirks personally. I wasn’t as successful with my three older kids. I took all their stuff personally and you know what they don’t remember half of it… they say “I didn’t do that or I did THAT all the time.” I look at my 4yo who we affectionately call Vinzilla he is a tough one and I mean tough, combative, aggressive. I think he must be like John the Baptist. I can only imagine St. Elizabeth.. You are doing what? Living in animal skins in the desert challenging all the social and political and spiritual stuff we taught you and eating what? Think of the neighbors and our family they will think we were terrible parents. But, boy was he tough. He told King Herod where to stuff it. Does that mean I don’t have to control everything about this boy and trust you that he is a unique creation and You have a plan? Firm and gentle and reaffirm. Train him with calm assurance that You O’ Creator of the Universe will take my offerings a a mother and perfect them. I think meekness might be anti-hypertension.

Merciful: Believe me… I am all day long, everyday.
At least I think I am… until I see a repeated behavior that I have disciplined for a 1000 times and feel my heart pound with anger and my voice gets loud. How dare they defy me again! I am speaking English, right? Do you want me to explain this slower or louder? I realized some time ago that sometimes they do disobey knowing there will be a consequence and consider that it may be worth it. Calmly make the consequence tougher, says my dad. “Calmly?” I scream into the phone. I remember that I gave God permission to use the brick or as some people say the two by four method. When He keeps trying to get your attention and you aren’t listening, you get socked in the back of the head or sideswiped by a serious consequence because the milder ones didn’t phase you. God be merciful to me! Oh dear, did you, my Blessed Mother think surely in all I have taught my son he could not possibly have gotten the impression that staying alone in a strange city was like, no big deal. The whole family, and I mean an entire caravan is inconvenienced, time, money, effort in just locating him, ouch. Be merciful Mary. I can just see this sheepish Jesus, but Mom you get to be the Queen of Heaven someday. This thought is in my mind as I put my 7 yo in the corner for taking food out of the kitchen for the millionth time. I smile at him “you will by in the corner for 15 minutes and if you take food into the den again I send you to the guillotine, okay that thought entered my mind but, I said, you will get a spanking, got it.” To whom much is given, much will be expected.” You have given me many charges and do expect me to train them. I remember Sally Clarkson telling a story about a little dog who ran a long a fence repeatedly barking. The yard was lush grass except the bare path. God revealed to her that is a mother’s duty to carve that clear path in her children’s minds with repeated instruction, over and over and over again, it need not be frustrating if that truly is what I am supposed to do there is joy and completion in doing it, repeatedly. And then I resumed my happy humming. I realized that in being calmly, consistent I am merciful to him and to me. Also, by not losing my temper and causing chaos in my home I acted as a peacemaker… this could work with fights too. So, tomorrow when I am tired and forget to be kind and calm, help me to accept your mercy O’ Great and Generous Lord and move on to next opportunity, which will probably be less that 5 minutes away.

Mournful Lovely Lady dressed in blue, did you lament over your weight and what you had to wear to the temple when you dutifully presented Jesus at 8 days old. Your desire to do what was expected, was it complicated by the desire to be who you thought you were expected to be? Pretty, thin, healthy, fit, creative, intelligent, a great cook, housekeeper, baby caretaker, gardener, budgeter, volunteer, wife, daughter, and most of all friend? How many noble hats we desire to wear and wear well! Yet, we are imperfect, sinful, undisciplined, overwhelmed, you name it we simply do not do all things to the degree that we aspire. There is disappointment, despair and mourning for our “failings.” I have heard “mournful” interpreted as sorrow over loss in many forms. I think it best described as both contrite sorrow over our own sin and of that of the world and the many consequences thereof especially the loss of souls and holiness. Kneeling in the confessional cradling my 8 week old baby I confessed that I had not done anything “holy” or “charitable” in a long while. He quizzed me on my current state in life. Hearing that I had five young children including a newborn caused him much mirth. Although glad he got some glee, I was not amused. Then he explained what holiness is. If God calls you to be a mother and you obey him. You are on the path to holiness. The toil which He gives you done consiensciously as possible, and lovingly and sometimes even joyfully is holiness. Right now said he… you are changing many poopy diapers and serving the defenseless and vulnerable. You are making them more comfortable with a clean diaper which is a very holy and charitable act. St. Tere’se’s Little Way. He created us men and women in His image… calls us to very differing roles, when we obey him, every job however, little be it setting the timer for corner time or delivering a glass of water to a child in bed, are indeed charity, holy and a cause for joy in heaven. If we do not try to be what we are not, or are not supposed to be, we simplify our duties and God’s grace for what we cannot accomplish covers the rest… and rest we receive with peace in our hearts and souls.

Justice mmh, many forms of justice does my heart seek, everything from comeuppance for the older brother who, sort of, didn’t mean to trip his sister and have her scrape her nose on the carpet to the freedom to practice christianity in the public forum because it is not a hobby! We belong to God. We and this universe could be called His hobby, it is His generosity and invitation that makes us His children! But, at times it feels as though the happenings in my life are unjust. Surely, my dear Queen you must have felt that having to deliver the Holy Infant in such meager and humble surroundings was unjust after you said your resounding YES to God. Surely, you must have thought it also unjust to have to flee with a small child after he was God, where were your miracles of protection? And surely, you must have thought it unjust to have to watch Him, the Word, Life and Love Itself suffer and die. But, perhaps, by then you were prepared, in the providentiality of all that you had endured, we know that everything has a purpose and in those persecutions you gathered all hid it in your heart, so that over and over and over as God pounded that path on your heart, mind and soul you were affirmed and reaffirmed of His faithfulness. Blessed Mother, my Queen what to say now? Ah of course, Hail Mary… over and over and over.

The Holiday That Wasn't

January 10, 2010 We have had some form of illness since a few days before Christmas. Have missed most of my absolute favorite days of the year... including 6 of my children's birthdays. Yes, as crazy as it sounds all 3 sets of twins were born the week of Christmas. It gets worse... the oldest set and the youngest all born on the same day Allie and Britt born at 12:01 and 12:02 on 12/20 and Gianna and Vin born at 12:11 and 12:12 on 12/20. If it wasn't a sin... I would be tempted to delve into numerology... there must be something to the numbers. But, of course it just means December is expensive and party, party time. Chris and Tessa were born on 12/28. So, obviously this is not the first December I have suffered isolation. Perhaps the whole seasonal affective disorder works well these circumstances because I have actually enjoyed the sleep, lots of board games with kids and much reduced outside activity. I did miss the holiday parties and caroling, but the Holy days did come and the sacredness of Christmas morning did arrive... as we rejoiced in Christ the ultimate gift.
The new year comes and with it new ways of doing things... new perspectives. New joys, new sorrows, new adventures.