Scattering Agates

Help is on the way

2012-01-29T22:54:00.000-08:00

Last night, the sound of the kids, their constant screeches and squabbles, pushed me to the edge of the world. I wanted to jump into the abyss and give up on it all. Instead, I did what any mom would do. I barked at them, slammed dishes around and made tacos. Actually, I'm sure only I would act like that. Every other mom would brush off the annoyance, smile sweetly and make a five course meal with lots of vegatables.

It's been a difficult few weeks. My husband has taken a bunch of overtime shifts and it feels like he's been gone for a month. As I'm sure any mom reading this knows, it can get pretty lonely and exhausting when your husband is gone for longer than usual. I'm used to him being gone six nights a week and catching up for a couple hours in the morning and evening. I bide my time until the end of six days then he's home for a long stretch and I can do things like take a shower without someone crashing through the bathroom door because the green marker lid is missing.

As I gruffed around the kitchen, lonliness and exhaustion wrapped around me like a weighted bib used when getting an x-ray at the dentist, my daughters, without a word from me, began to help. They got busy with their tasks while I tried not to cry into the taco meat. They set the table, shredded the cheese, and kept Bubby occupied. They even cleaned up all the toys around the house. The floors were clear enough to vacuum...I probably should have taken advantage of that.

Finally, the smell of cilantro and lime brought me to my senses and I could comprehend what was going on. I slid out of my weighted bib of despair, wiped my eyes and was amazed. It seemed like a miracle. My children actually helped prepare dinner and tidy up the house. I was proud.

The help they gave me did not just happen. They knew what needed to be done because of practice. A couple months ago I came up with Job #1 and Job #2. These jobs are done around meal times and are posted on the refrigerator with a magnet that indicates who does what job that day. Job #1 is to help cook, set the table and clear the table. Job #2 is to load the dishwasher, wipe the table and sweep. I have also been having the girls pick up all the toys each evening and unload the dishwasher in the morning. Normally I have to harp, nag and stamp my foot to get them to lift a finger. Then they moan and groan and suddenly have much more important things to do. However, I've stuck with it (most of the time) and I am finally able to see that consistency might be paying off.

Praise the Lord and pass the tortillas!

The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak

2012-01-25T22:44:00.000-08:00

While at an attempt at prayer the other day, I was struggling to focus. No matter how hard I tried to listen peacefully, my thoughts kept jumping and racing. Then an interesting image floated through my mind. I saw myself reaching toward Jesus with one hand, my face turned toward Him and my entire body as well. My face showed its desire and even longing to be with Him. However, my other hand was stretched out in the opposite direction. In that hand I grasped, with no intent to let go, a hook attached to a cable much like the one I have pictured above.

The message was clear. In order to give myself completely to God, I have to let go of whatever is holding me back. And, as a mom, giving myself completely to God means giving myself completely to the duties of my vocation. I mean these little, crazy, monsters that skitter around me all day. These children, whom I love, but who take up so much of my energy.

I guess I'm afraid to do it. I'm afraid to let go of my own comforts and fantasies (notice I didn't say desires because those are given to me by my Creator). It all comes down to trust. My ability to trust that God will give me the strength to accomplish all that He needs me to accomplish. I know that by surrendering and trusting Him, the desires of my heart will be fulfilled. There really is no need to fear.

Lent, coming up in a little less than a month, will be a good time to work on letting go of the hook and cable so that I can hug Jesus with both arms.

This was on Facebook this morning. I hope it's not too small to read:

~~~

I feel sort of guilty using the image of the hook above because it is from a site where they are trying to sell their images. So, as with almost all of the images I use, if you click on the picture, it is linked to its original site.

Making History

2012-01-23T21:55:00.000-08:00

There was a break in the weather today and the clear skies drew us outside. The backyard was littered with tree branches from all the wind storms we've been having so I pulled out two rakes. A larger one for myself and a little one for Bubby (he loves to "work"). Then, I did something that I don't normally do. I played with my children.

As I raked the branches into piles, I began to imagine our little family as a pioneer family just clearing our land to build a cabin. Grasshopper happens to be learning about pioneers right now, so I thought, "why not make a game of it." As soon as I started to pretend to be "ma," the girls gathered around me, Bubby too with his rake, and they were captivated. Their little faces lit up and they immediately joined in to play this game with me!

The best part was that while one child hunted a rabbit for dinner, and another got the dutch oven out of the wagon and started the fire, the branches -that began this whole adventure- were gathered up in neat piles. Those kids eagerly worked around me as if it wasn't work at all.

One of the great things about being with my children all of the time, is the change I see in myself. I, who dread to play with my children and find it a tiresome chore, had fun with them today. In fact, we've played a few different games together while we are going about our daily chores lately: Teacher and students, maid and ladies, the white witch and Narnians. Most likely these little games will be what I, and maybe even they, will remember as we look back these busy days. It is our own little history.

Mud holes

2012-01-21T21:51:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was a super, duper, really bad day. Nothing specifically tragic happened. I just could not get off the couch. My husband would pass by me, pat me on the shoulder, tell me everything was going to be okay and still I could not move. It was not a physical ailment. I was down in the dumps, depressed and discouraged. I periodically go through these mud holes. It may be a family trait, a weakness of character or maybe a gift.

Today, looking back, I would say it is a gift. If I said that to myself yesterday I would have buried my head deeper into my self-made mud pit and cried. But today, on the other side of melancholy, things look different.

Yesterday, as I wallowed in self-indulgent misery (I took no steps to make things better such as a walk in the fresh air), I thought about my life, my desires, my failures, regrets and the current state of my house. I reflected on the kind of mother I am, the kind I'd like to be and the kind I really can be (and have been). Through all this thinking, I figured out what really matters to me and what really makes me happy. And, as they say: "If mama ain't happy, ain't no one happy"...or something like that.

So what does make me happy? Well, for one thing less time with my Kindle (see yesterday's post). At least a little time for quiet prayer and reflection is important. Good and honest friendships is another important factor in my sense of well-being (I figured that out while a friend listened to me go on and on about past regrets and future fears and we didn't even have our usual large glass of wine). Lastly, I need to write. This need needs more attention and so you see I've posted two days in a row.

Happiness isn't everything. Suffering will come too. Both are necessary to be truly alive. I do not plan to spend other day in a desperate mud bog, but I probably will be there again some day. Suffering gives me perspective. It helps me to see what's important and what I need to let go. It's not to be feared or avoided. Instead, it can be like a knot in a rope to hold onto in order to get out of the bog.

Then there's redemptive suffering...but don't get me started on that. I don't have time tonight. Little Bear wants a story before she goes to sleep. I hope I'm not too late. However, if you are interested in the topic you can read about it here.

Falling in love...with an electronic device?

2012-01-20T17:22:00.000-08:00

Yes. It's that bad.

For Christmas my husband gave me a Kindle Fire. It surprised me because I like books. Real books. Now that I have a Kindle, I like it too. In fact, I'm almost in love with it. At least that may be what you think if you could watch me with it. I wake up, turn it on, check my email, check facebook, check the news, turn on talk radio, check to see if any one has commented on my blog (or if by some miracle, I had written something new), see if there are any new books I want to buy, then I move around the house taking my Kindle with me wherever I go.

I hope my infatuation with this little, black device will not last much longer. Other relationships in my life are suffering. I am suffering. It seems my Kindle takes a lot of my time and attention and doesn't give much in return.

I'm not sure if the Kindle is the cause or if it is where I am finding my escape from the real world. Lately it feels as if any progress I have made in my parenting and home making skills have been rushed down the river with the latest flood in our neighborhood. Which, by the way, I kept track of on my Kindle hour by hour, foot by foot.

It will be nice when these dark, gloomy, winter days are past. Maybe then I'll be able to dry myself off, set the Kindle aside and tend to the more important relationships in my life. Those with hearts that beat and souls that long for love.

Brideshead, Downton, O'Conner, O My!

2012-01-14T15:59:00.000-08:00

Neglected but not altogether abandoned. That's what I would say about Scattering Agates this last week. Words and thoughts are in constant formation in my head but actually constructing the sentences on the computer has been just out of reach.

I'm not busy. In fact, I have not been baking bread. I have not been baking anything. Somehow dinner has managed to find its way to the table, but without much effort: Tacos, hamburgers, stir fry. Easy stuff that takes little thought or effort on my part. I have not been crafting with the children, nor have I been spending much time with them at all. I feed them and send them off to play or pop in a Dvd to keep them occupied. It's not been my proudest mommy moments these days.

No. Life has been pretty dull, boring, and gray. Finally today the sky matches my mood. We've had a excess of sun and cold weather this winter that has left everyone feeling confused. Today the rain is back.

So, what have I have I been doing? I'm dying to share. I've been watching movies such as Brideshead Revisited. I obtained a copy of the 1981 version that is nine episodes long. Each about an hour. A while back I had read most of the book and the movie follows almost exactly. I've also been watching Downton Abbey online. It's a Masterpiece production on PBS now in its second season. I've been watching the first season soon to be offline on January 17th. Both shows have been excellent, in my opinion. Especially Brideshead Revisited, although much more of a heady drama and time investment (sigh) but so good.

You can actually watch all of the BBC 1981 version of Brideshead Revisited with Jeremy Irons and other great actors on You Tube. CLICK HERE to begin your journey.

If you'd like to watch Downton Abbey before it's gone, CLICK HERE.

Both movies are mostly okay to watch with children present. Although Brideshead Revisited has some adult themes such as homosexuality, extramarital affairs and there's lots of kissing in both as well as some love scenes. Okay...maybe not so good with children, but I just made mine cover their eyes. They get bored with all the dialogue anyway.

Movies take up a lot of time and seem to suck the life out of me. I wonder if others have this problem? So, I have also been reading. I highly recommend short stories by Flannery O'Conner. She is an amazing writer. Also Catholic, as is Evelyn Waugh the author of Brideshead Revisited, and like Evelyn Waugh, has a grasp on the reality of humanity. No Thomas Kinkade reading (or viewing). It's raw humanity at its best and worse. Just how I like it. And, I'd like to add, the reason I love being a Catholic. We don't skip over the Crucifixion and focus only on the Resurrection. We live, reflect and believe it all.

On that theme, you may also find this post interesting about a pagan convert to Catholicism on a blog titled Why I'm Catholic. Christie Martin wrote a good piece on her conversion and may look into her blog as well titled, Garden of Holiness.

So, you see, I may not be dusting or packing up the Christmas stuff. I may not be "busy" with the tasks that stare at me and begrudgingly wonder when I will attend to them, but I've been filling my head with a lot of great movies and reading. Maybe I'm not a complete loss. Those tasks will still be there when I've had my fill of escapism.

Home School Reflections

2012-01-08T15:58:00.000-08:00

My daughter and I are seventeen weeks into our home school lessons. The weeks have gone by quickly and smoothly. My expectations of drudgery, fights and boredom have been replaced with the reality of home schooling. It has been some of those things some of the time, but most of the time it is not. For years now, my nine-year-old daughter and I have not gotten along well. Since being her teacher as well as her mom, our relationship has been so much improved that it brings me to tears to think of it. Instead of looks of disdain and slumping to her room, as it had often been in the past, we hug each other and share many jokes.

If I am being honest, it is not my daughter that has changed, but it is the way I react to her. Being with her, thinking about the best way to help her learn a concept, seeing the progress she makes, has forced me to know her and respect her in a way I had not had the wisdom to do before home school began. While I used to walk away from her negative behavior, I now sit with her and calmly coach her through it. I understand better what sets her off and instead of reacting to it, I expect it, take a deep breath and deal with it. In home school, there is no way to avoid those bad days and bad attitudes.

It is a gift to identify myself as mom who schools her children. I look forward to the years to come if my husband is still on board. The other day I told him, "I can only get better at this."

Merry Christmas my precious

2011-12-24T09:06:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas! The ~~dreaded~~ long anticipated day has arrived. I guess this is kind of a melancholy Christmas for me. I've spent a lot of time longing for days and friendships of the past. Actually I've even been longing for my present wonderful friends but they are all busy with their own families. I'm not sure I can force myself to be joyful and jubilant, but I'm sure once the festivities are in full swing, all the joy on my children's faces will spread to mine. Some day I'll be longing for these days with them.

This Christmas I'll also be longing for my husband. He is working on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and beyond so when we do have a brief moment with him, he will have that glazed over, just-crawled-out-of-Schmiegel's-cave look. Not one of my favorite looks on him. I prefer his well-rested look with his hearty laughter and incessant teasing.

So, for all of you out there that this Christmas just isn't the fun and fanfare that it has been in the past or that you've always dreamed of, I'm with you this year. Let's make the best of it. Remembering that this life is passing and our future, if we choose to accept it, is sealed by the very baby whose birthday we celebrate. Let's thank that little baby for the most wonderful gift of all. His gift of salvation to the world.

But before I dive into Christmas. I will share this video with you. Something to look forward to!

After writing this post, I read over at Catholic Culture some interesting stuff about Catholic Christmas traditions. It's short and sweet, so check it out by clicking HERE.

A blog post by Fr. Dwight Longenecker

2011-12-19T09:56:00.000-08:00

(The following is from on of my favorite blogs written by an Anglican priest turned Catholic. His words often echo my own thoughts and the following is no exception.)

PERSONAL FLOTSAM OR THE BARQUE OF PETER

A comment from a sincere Protestant:

"However good, however all-embracing, however truthful, however up-to-date, however correct or incorrect, however complete or incomplete - the teaching of any church cannot tell me these things: how my personal relationship with Jesus is, and may develop; how scripture and tradition apply to my personal situation now, my present joys and sorrows and difficulties and my relationships with other people; what God's purpose is for me to fulfil in life to his glory; how the Holy Spirit in glorious freedom may lead me down paths unknown and reveal to me things both old and new as I work out my own salvation in fear and trembling."

This is a nicely written and heartfelt comment, but it reveals the heart of the difference between the Protestant mentality and the Catholic. At the foundation level the Protestant's faith is between him and Jesus. It is subjective. He is the final arbiter of how his relationship with Jesus is, how to interpret and apply the Scriptures, God's purpose for his life, how the Holy Spirit leads him as an individual.

This is almost exactly the opposite of Catholic understanding. The longer I am a Catholic the more I distrust my own judgement. The more I doubt my own perspective; the more I question my own motives and my own understanding of the faith. I do so for several very good reasons. First of all, my understanding and vision is limited. It is limited by my education, my biases, my experience and my emotions. Secondly, my experience of 'my relationship with Jesus' is unreliable. How do I know it is Jesus I am "experiencing" and not just a fabrication of my emotions or my preconceived ideas about who Jesus is? What evidence do I have that it really is the Holy Spirit leading me in "glorious freedom" and that I am not just doing what I want and then claiming divine authority to do so? Thirdly, I distrust my own experiences in all these things not only because I distrust my own judgement, but because my own private judgement has so often run contrary to the will of the Church--the teaching of the Church and the judgement of the Church. Put simply--why should I be right and the Pope and a billion Catholics be wrong?

I am increasingly, therefore, (and with great gratitude) happy to subject my own "personal relationship with Jesus" to the objective, historical teachings of the Catholic Church. So, for example, I ask the question, "Where do I encounter Christ?" The Catechism says I objectively encounter Christ in five ways: 1. in the Church--the Eucharistic Assembly which is the Body of Christ 2. In the person of the priest. 3. In the Eucharistic species 4. In the Sacred Scriptures 5. In the person of the poor. These five are good enough for me. I may feel that I experience Christ in other ways, but while I appreciate them, I do not rely on them.

Furthermore, I have found that by subjecting myself to the the Sacred Scriptures interpreted by the Church and lived out by the examples of the saints, that my own spiritual life has not been curtailed or constrained, but amplified and expanded beyond my furthest imaginings. By subjecting myself as much as I can to the teachings of Holy Mother Church my life has widened out, not narrowed down. By striving to be obedient--even when it is hard--especially when it is hard--my spiritual life has grown, not diminished.

I am therefore to be judged by the Church--I am not to judge the church. I listen to the voice of the Bishops--even when I don't like what they say. I strive to understand and comply with the teachings of Mother Church because she knows better than I do. I strive to subject my will to the will of my bishop in what I hope might be holy obedience because through that act of the will and subjugation of the will my spirit grows far more than my own feeble ideas of 'glorious freedom'. It is within this holy obedience that I learn far more than if I had imagined that I knew everything already.

This is, admittedly, very difficult. In an individualistic age in which every man is his own spiritual director, his own Biblical interpreter and his own Pope, to believe and act as if the Bishops of the Church are Christ's own apostles, operating under his own divine mandate--is to believe and act (in the world's eyes) as a fool. But so be it. Let me be a fool for Christ, and if I die with a foolish smile on my face because my foolishness has confounded the world and bankrupted me, then that is the way I wish to die.

My greatest fear is that I would walk outside the church--somehow imagining that I know best. The one area of my life which I know least and which is the greatest mystery to me is my own spiritual life and my own spiritual progress. Because of my self doubt and agnosticism about my own holiness or progress I rely increasingly on the secure rock of Peter. I want to be in the barque of Peter. Not at sea clinging to my own piece of personal flotsam.

Cookies and Carols

2011-12-18T21:34:00.000-08:00

A friend of mine hosted a cookie decorating party yesterday. There were lots of kids, stacks of cookies, and plenty of sprinkles, frosting and candy to send any child into ecstasy. We brought home two plates of masterfully decorated cookies and smiles on our faces. I thought a cookie decorating party was such a creative way to celebrate Christmas. If I had a bigger house, maybe I could do something like that.

As it is, our house is small so we will have a small gathering of friends over on Tuesday night for carolling. This will be our second annual carolling party. Last year after visiting over cookies, tea and wine, we sat around the living room together for singing. I deliberately put together a book of carols that were from the good ol' days: Silent Night, Away in a Manger, Joy to the World. The party ended leaving us all with happier hearts ready for Christmas to arrive.

I plan the same kind of party for this year and for years to come. Maybe, just maybe, I'll eventually have a larger, more party friendly space, and all my friends, their kids and maybe even their dogs can fit.

O (long expected) JOY!

2011-12-17T10:02:00.000-08:00

The true countdown begins. Today is the 17th and the beginning of the "O Antiphons." These are special prayers used in the liturgy (public worship). Each antiphon is an old testament name of the coming messiah. That messiah who came and is Jesus the Christ!

Last year I made an "O Antiphon" house. Each door with the date on the front opens to the antiphon of that day: O Wisdom, O Lord and Ruler, O Root of Jesse, O Key of David, O Rising Dawn, O King of the Nations, O Emmanuel (God with us). At our nightly prayer when we light the candles on our Advent wreath, we always sing "O come, O come, Emmanuel." During these last days before Christmas we sing the other verses all having to do with the "O Antiphons." It's all so exciting for me.

Some day maybe my kids will be excited about it too. At this point getting them to sit quietly for a moment to pray and reflect when there are walls to be bounced off of, is almost impossible. It is a joy to see them so excited. Our tree us up, without decorations yet, and they can all but climb up to the top and jump off every time they look at it. It's the most wonderful time of the year!

CLICK HERE for a brief overview of the "O Antiphons" and other activities related to them.

It only takes a spark

2011-12-10T23:31:00.000-08:00

We light the pink candle this week on the Advent week. That means we are getting closer to Christmas. The pink represents joy. The purple candles represent sorrow for our sins, but now we get to think about the joy of Jesus' birth.

The only problem I'm having with the joy of Christmas is that I don't feel joyful. It seems, these days, Christmas is about cramming as much stuff in your cart, or as many activities as possible in the month of December. It's cluttery, noisy, glizty and completely messes up what Christmas is all about. Jesus, the Savior of the world, did not come so that my children could be bombarded with material things that only makes me (and them I believe) crazed and crazy.

Meanwhile, there are people suffering in this world. They are hungry, tired, lonely, depressed, housebound, in prison, and dying. Whatever happened to filling all the valleys and making straight a highway for our God? There is a problem with this world and it's called sin. We live in a world where people are walking away from God and toward selfishness. We really need to be saved from ourselves.

The amazing thing is that we have been saved. We have a Savior. He's nothing spectacular. In fact, he came to us as a little, tiny baby born in a place where animals are kept. He slept in the place those same animals had breakfast. He was so helpless and sweet.

It's incredible...unthinkable...true. I know I need this Savior. I'm lost without Him. But will my children hear His message through the noise?

Thursday my husband and I will spend the day shopping for toys for our kids. I do want my children to have fun, be happy and feel the joy of Christmas. I just fear the meaning will be lost in the craziness of it all. But I refuse to give up. I will at least try to get the message to them and, by God's grace, they may hear it.

Year after year, I will keep lighting the pink candle because it only takes a spark to get a fire going.

Holy Dwelling Place of God...Holy Temple of the Word

2011-12-08T10:07:00.000-08:00

Today we celebrate the Feast of the Immaculate Conception. It's the belief that Mary (the mother of Jesus) was conceived without the stain of original sin. Only Mary and Jesus have this unique quality. It's a belief that I have come to cherish but it was not always so. During high school I was very involved in a Four Square church youth group and heavily influenced by a non-Catholic Christian way of thinking. I did not want to scare away my friends with a belief in Mary that seems to them to be idol worship. Not only that, Jesus always came first in my life. He still does.

For a while now, however, I have been studying, praying, learning and loving the Catholic Church's teaching on Mary. I have begun to let her love for Jesus have its influence on me and my prayer life. It has left me amazed and inspired. St. Louis de Montefort said "the fastest way to Jesus is through Mary." I have found this to be so true in my own spiritual life. No one loves Jesus more than his own mother and she has taught me to love him in a way that is more tender and dear than I ever could have imagined.

Not only has Mary's love for Jesus influenced my love for Him, but also for those around me. Especially my children. When Bubby was itty bitty, I would imagine Mary holding Jesus. When he cried, I'd imagine the love she must have felt for her own child and then have more patience for my own. At each stage of development for each of my kids, especially when things are frustrating, I think of Mary and her son. Then I'll say a prayer asking her for her guidance and help. I trust her because I know her single intention is to bring me and all of God's children to a closer union with her son.

A final thought on Mary: Her union with God started with her own prayers to God the Father. Then at the Annunciation, she was "overshadowed" with the Holy Spirit (that's why we call Mary the Spouse of the Holy Spirit) and then she was the mother of Jesus. While Mary was on earth she had a special relationship with the Blessed Trinity before humanity even knew what the Blessed Trinity was!

Pray for us, Holy Mother of God,
that we may be worthy of the promises of Christ.

A New Beginning

2011-12-05T22:40:00.000-08:00

"COMFORT, GIVE COMFORT TO MY PEOPLE"

We are working on schedules, routines, and healthy habits.

Without these things, family life is crazy. There is no peace. There is no comfort. I know from experience. Very, very recent experience...I've been a major slacker.

"PREPARE THE WAY OF THE LORD! MAKE STRAIGHT HIS PATHS"

So, when I have ten thousand things to do to get ready for Christmas, what do I do? I make a chore jar and write out morning and night routines on popsicle sticks for the girls. Then make a plan to work harder on my own healthy habits and routines.

"EVERY VALLEY SHALL BE FILLED IN, EVERY MOUNTAIN AND HILL SHALL BE MADE LOW"

The Christmas stuff will happen. It is happening. Slowly I'm crossing things off my various lists. I'm just trying not to let "the lists" get in the way of our sanity.

"THE GLORY OF THE LORD SHALL BE REVEALED, AND ALL THE PEOPLE SHALL SEE IT TOGETHER"

Right now my job is to keep our home in a state of peace and comfort so that the Christ child can enter our hearts and bring us peace.

"LIKE A SHEPHERD HE FEEDS HIS FLOCK; IN HIS ARMS HE GATHERS THE LAMBS, CARRYING THEM IN HIS BOSOM, AND LEADING THE EWES WITH CARE"

I guess I'm one of those ewes being led with care. I get to follow the shepherd and bring my lambs along. They will be safe with the shepherd and so will I.

This Scripture was taken from Isaiah Chapter 40 and was written over 700 years before Jesus was born. It's a never ending call to conversion. A call to start over or start anew. That is what this season of Advent, this time before Christmas, is all about. For me, this year, it's a chore jar.

Tradition Trip

2011-12-01T08:18:00.000-08:00

The first week of Advent is almost over and I'm still not ready for this season or Christmas. I'm in no mood. I don't feel like being in December. I don't feel like decorating a tree or singing Christmas songs. But feelings don't matter. Christmas is upon me. There's no getting out of this one.

Last Sunday when the girls saw the Advent Wreath at church, they could not wait to get our Christmas bins out. If it weren't for them, we may not even have our Advent wreath and nativity scene up yet! I'm glad that in the past I have actually spent time and energy on making this season special. It was easy to unpack the "Advent Bin" and I actually put the decorations in the same places as last year.

This is part of the beauty of traditions. It doesn't matter my mood or what's going on in my life, the repetition of tradition is soothing, familiar and easy. For the same reason, healthy habits are important. Every morning I take a shower, brush my teeth, brush my hair, etc. I don't have to remember to do it. Neither do I have to come up with a new plan every morning for my personal hygiene.

Maybe my New Year's Resolution this year will be to enforce healthy habits and happy traditions because I've been slacking lately with my kids. It seems healthy habits don't come naturally (at least to my children). It takes time, planning and implementation. Only then can we go into to auto habit mode.

My Passive Distraction Inactive Attraction

2011-11-26T21:52:00.000-08:00

In the years just before I was married, I was a Youth Minister in a small church located in the Columbia River Gorge. At that time I struggled with working too hard and too much. I lived and breathed my job and found it difficult to know when work stopped and play began. At some point I saved up enough money to purchase a mountain bike I'd been dreaming about for quite a while. After buying the bike, I noticed on the part that connects the handle bars to the rest of the bike it said: "All work and no play is no good at all." To me, that was a sign from God to take time off from work and have some plain old fun. I did too. I loved mountain biking.

As a mother, I find myself in a similar circumstance as in my first job. It's hard to know when work stops and play begins. In fact, playing with my children seems like work and it's hard to find time away from them. So, I have found myself seeking to be entertained. Instead of exploring mountain biking trails, I jump around various websites and Face Book. I can actually feel entitled to sit and be entertained at times. After I make a meal, vacuum the floor, clean the toilet, whatever else I do, then I feel like I deserve a break. However, it is an inactive, distraction rather than a true break. Not only that, my children feel the same entitlement and actively seek to be inactively gazing into the mesmerizing images that flash across whatever screen is in front of them.

There was very little T.V. watching during our last vacation. I, in fact, did not watch any T.V. and did not get on the computer once. Yet it was very relaxing and energizing. We got up early each morning and our days were full of activity such as snorkeling, swimming, washing sand out of our hair, climbing up and down five flights of stairs, sipping the daily special from the Tiki Bar and enjoying each other's company. We, in the truest sense of the word, played.

All work and no play is no good at all. However, play should be active. I read this today from a book written in 1955 called Beginning at Home: the challenge of Christian Parenthood. Mary Perkins writes:

It would seem...the more passive the form of entertainment or recreation the less it has any legitimate place in normal living. The proper role of most "good" or "harmless" television shows, radio programs, detective stories, movies, etc., is that of soothing, amusing and entertaining invalids or shut-ins or very elderly people, or those who are so completely exhausted by inhuman forms of work or the inhuman strains of modern life that they do not have the energy for true recreation.

She goes on to say, "most of us parents think that we are in this last condition. But let us make sure that there is nothing that we can do to increase our energy, before we entirely give up the idea of trying to play with our children!"

Wow. Those are some pretty harsh words. Especially when read from my place in the 2000s rather than the 1950s. I live in time when passive entertainment reigns supreme. Just look at the Black Friday ads: televisions, dvd players, gaming systems, ipods, computers. The problem I have is breaking the habit. I'm not sure I'd go so far as to throw out passive entertainment entirely, but I think I, and my family, can cut out a considerable amount.

Mary Perkins has something to say about this:

One difficulty here is, of course, that most of us have to contend with our long-established bad habits of seeking distraction in some more or less passive form of entertainment rather than in true recreation. Work and play are the same for the Wisdom of God...But for us human beings, work is basically differentiated from play by the fact that in working we have a motive beyond the activity itself while in playing we have no other explicit, conscious motive than that of doing for fun what we are doing.

Play or recreation, however, should not be primarily passive, any more than should work. We are made in the image of God who is pure Act. We are made primarily to act; rest is only necessary because of the weakness of our physical nature. Recreation and play should, therefore, delightfully exercise our powers, especially those unused by our day's work.

(Perkins includes reading, dancing, singing, drawing, gardening, pottery, making up stories or plays, acting, and carpentry work as forms of play and recreation.)

Perkin's words are a challenge to me, to say the least. For many years now I have prayed for more energy. Mommys need energy for work and play. My prayers are steadily being answered. My thyroid which was once giving me problems is no longer, my low levels of vitamin D have been normalized, I'm taking fish oil and a daily vitamin, and have started a Fit Yummy Mummy lifestyle which includes exercise and supportive eating (more on this later). Now might be the time I begin to conquer my bad recreational habits. This may take years!

CLICK HERE to read Beginning at Home online! It must be out of print but I'm not sure.

Happily "Maui"ed!

2011-11-24T15:40:00.000-08:00

What would you do if your parents were married for fifty years this month and you were celebrating your tenth anniversary? We decided to take a trip to Hawaii. Maui to be exact.

Before we took off I was anxious about how it all would go. I was worried about the plane ride with three children, a father in a wheel chair, a mother with pretty severe arthritis and a husband with flying (and other) anxieties. I gave very little thought to the actual time we were going to spend on a sub-tropical island.

After a fairly stress free flying experience, thanks to many and very specific prayers, we settled in to our week of anniversary celebrations. Once we were actually at the hotel looking off the balcony at the island blue waters framed by palm trees, feeling the soft breeze and listening to the crashing waves, I was very pleasantly surprised by the overall wonderfulness of an island vacation.

We had such a fantastic time that we're already planning our next trip across the seas.

By the way, our hotel did not have easy access to the Internet, in case you wondered where I've been since I said I was going to write more consistently.

Mahalo for reading!

Straight North

2011-11-14T08:25:00.000-08:00

My goal is to walk through this life in a straight line. Straight North to be exact. If I walk straight North, I will walk right into the loving arms of God, my Father. Do I always walk straight North? No. Often I am walking a few (or a lot of) degrees West or East and at times in my life I have walked almost directly South. Directly away from Love.

I've struggled to come up with a good image of how we all effect each other in this world and this compass image is the best I can come up with. We each are walking in whatever direction we have chosen, but as we meet one another on our walk, we bump each other to different degrees. My actions and words have the ability to bump a person (if they choose) one degree closer toward North. Even if it's just a smile to a stranger in a grocery store. In the same way, I could read something online that could take me a degree or two away from North.

The point is; every action, every word I speak, every thought and gesture has its effect on this world and the people around me. It's not like if we all think peace at the same time, the world will be at peace. It's much more complicated than that. But, if we all are doing our best to walk North, we all will help each other along the way. Eventually, we (the whole world) could be on a path toward God and how amazing would that be?

Update....

2011-11-13T16:12:00.000-08:00

(Left to right: Little Bear, me, Bubby and Grasshopper)

It's been a while since I've posted on Scattering Agates consistently so I thought it would be a good idea for me to update the world, well at least you readers (if you have not deleted me from your memory) about my oh-so-fantastic and oh-so-ordinary life. That is, if you are interested.

I'll start with the kids.

Grasshopper, now nine, is turning in to a fine young lady. I know I spent a lot of time in the past writing about her and our battles, but lately things are going quite smoothly with her. However, she is beginning to show some signs of pre-teen stuff (ahhhhh). I'm already reading books on the teenage years in preparation. I am home schooling her this year and it has improved our relationship greatly. In fact, I love being a home school family. I can't wait to start Little Bear next year.

Little Bear is now a sweet little four-year-old girl. She has always been sweet, but she's smashed between two rather strong willed children and so has become even sweeter (in my eyes anyway). My difficulties with her seem to arise only when she is overly tired. However, being such a good little girl, I can at times forget to give her enough attention.

And Bubby. Oh, Bubby. My four-months-from-two-year old. He is a handful. He, in fact, quite exhausts me. He is a boy so the boy factor is definitely at play plus, unlike his sisters, he is an extrovert. This means everyone around him gets to hear his happy sounds when he's happy (so adorable) but they also get to hear his unhappy sounds when he's unhappy (not so adorable). He's loud, on the move and demanding. At the same time, he is the joy of our lives. It has been a big adjustment for me to raise this kid.

Because of home schooling keeping up with Bubby, and everything else, my days have become much busier. This has actually been a good thing because it has forced me to be more organized. It's kinda like when I was in college, I actually got better grades with a full schedule rather than light one. I have also been forced into eating better, taking my vitamins and exercising to stay healthy and happy in the midst of the day-to-day stress of life.

With all that is going on (and I haven't even mentioned our house is for sale and that my husband is back to working a twelve hour night shift) I have neglected this blog and my creative side in general. I look forward to writing again, even if I only have small chunks of time to do it. I also look forward to reconnecting with you, the readers of this blog.

Cheers!

Faith of my dreams

2011-11-10T09:18:00.000-08:00

I met the most beautiful lady last night (in my dream). Her name was Faith. She was a very attractive, sublimely peaceful woman in a wheel chair. We were in a room where every seat was filled and not a lot of room to get around. I wanted so badly to get close to Faith and talk to her but could never quite manage to get near her. She obviously had a couple very close friends who were privy to her life and her friendship and I, it was apparent, was not going to get to be a part of her close inner circle. Even though I could never get close to Faith, somehow I knew by watching her that her life had been one of suffering and that through her suffering she merited her name.

Suffering and faith. The two are tied together. The sufferings we endure in this life can be the stepping stones to life with God. When you read stories of the lives of Saints or stories of conversion, they are almost always tied to some sort of suffering or tragedy that invariably draws a person to a life dependent on God. We all suffer in one way or another. Incredibly, our God came and lived among us and so endured every kind of suffering. He, by becoming one of us, raised suffering to the highest level. His suffering (and faith) endured to the end.

Somehow, by His Grace, our suffering draws us to holiness. When we are able to embrace suffering and use it as it is intended, a stepping stone to holiness, faith will shine through our every action. Just like the Faith in my dreams.

"Mommy, I need...."

2011-11-08T19:55:00.000-08:00

"Mommy, I'm hungry."
"Mommy, I need a band aide."
"Mommy, I can't find my shoes."
"Mommy, will you read me a story?"
"Mommy, Bubby's diaper needs to be changed."
"Mama, eh, eh, eh, waaaaa (baby talk: I need something)."
"Mommy, I'm hungry."

These are the words of my children I hear every day whether I'm ready to hear them or not. It doesn't matter what kind of sleep I got last night, if my allergies are acting up, or if I haven't had any time to myself for days. They still come to me with their needs.

To be completely honest, my responses to these needs are often exasperated, irritated and dramatic. Not at all like the loving mommy I want to be. I tend to focus more on my own tiredness and how much I just want to sit down for five minutes together.

I did have a few quiet minutes the other day and I sat down to read from scripture. I turned to John Chapter Eight titled, "A Woman Caught in Adultry." I thought with a title like that, this was going to be a good read. It turned out, I only read the first few sentences, not because I was interrupted, but because they struck me in such a way that I stopped to reflect. Here's what I read:

"Then each went to his own house, while Jesus went to the Mount of Olives. But early in the morning he arrived again in the temple area, and all the people started coming to him, and he sat down and taught them."

It didn't matter that Jesus had probably stayed up all night to pray or that the day before was jam packed with discussions with the pharisees and avoiding arrest. Jesus still went back to the temple early in the morning and the people came to him with their needs. He did not turn them away or avoid them. In fact, I'm pretty sure he was not exasperated, irritated or dramatic. He just sat down and taught them because that's what he was there for. He was there for these people who needed him and because of the eternal love he had for them.

I try to recall this little glimpse into Christ's ministry as I also minister to the needs of my own children. I am here for these little ones who need me and I am here to love them. With a slight adjustment in my response to their requests, I hope to be more like Jesus who once said: "No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends" (John 15:13)...and children.

Crushed Creativity

2011-11-07T07:55:00.000-08:00

The last couple days I've been looking for my creativity. My inner house is cluttered and in all the hustle and bustle, I had misplaced it. Thankfully, when I started to feel lost in my own home, I realized it needed to be found and put in its proper spot. I did finally find my creativity stashed in a forgotten corner. Sadly, it's a little bit dusty, the edges are tattered and there's a big dent from the crushed position it's been in for the last few months. I'm confident that by getting it out, dusting it off and displaying it properly, it will regain it's original shape. Until then, I (and you) will have to be patient with my neglected creative side.

How does an octopus deal?

2011-11-05T13:54:00.000-07:00

Hello?

Is anyone there?

I'm back! At least I am ready to be back. In a way, I need to be back. These days with the start of my new adventure of home schooling my nine-year-old, chasing my-20-month old, tending to my four-year-old and stumbling around my husband's new work schedule (back to nights), I feel like an octopus trying to keep my head above the surface of the water. It's exhausting. I'm stressed, not always unhappily stressed, but stressed.

So, I'm returning to Scattering Agates to try to find an outlet for my creative side that has been crammed into the corner. Maybe it can be a place to rest one of my weary tentacles maybe you'll begin to read again.

Also, look forward to a some changes in the look of this blog in the days ahead. I've asked for help from a friend.

(Click on the picture of the green octopus if you'd like to buy it. I spotted it on Etsy).

What to do when you're stuck behind an RV

2011-09-18T12:19:00.000-07:00

There's been some changes in our life that have added some extra stress to my existence. Our house is for sale, my husband drastically altered his work schedule, fall schedules are pinned to my bulletin board, my calendar is filling up and this is my first year to teach my daughter at home.

Before all these changes life was going fairly smoothly for me. I had worked the kinks out of our household routines and was managing things with relative ease. It was as if I was driving down the coastal highway after just getting past some slow cars. There were few obstacles to my ocean view and I was even able to set the cruise control at 61 mph.

Now, with these changes, it's as if an RV has pulled out in front of me. Instead of sailing smoothly down the road, I'm stuck looking at the back of this RV. No amount of yelling, or crowding the bumper of this beast will do any good. They are tourists gawking at the view and taking their time. All I can do is wait for the next passing lane (if you've ever driven hwy 101 on the central Oregon coast, they are few and far between).

My response to all the changes in our routine has been to yell and crowd the bumper. It's been doing me no good. Somehow I have to adjust to this new speed and keep moving toward my goal and my goal is to grow in holiness.

The other night I read from the Gospel of St. John about the Samaritan woman Jesus met at the well. It says that when Jesus sat down at the well, He was tired. I'm tired too. When I'm tired I want to rest. I want to get away and be refreshed. That's not what Jesus did. He began a pretty heavy conversation with this woman that eventually led to her conversion and the conversion of most of her town. When Jesus' disciples came up to Him with food, He told them He wasn't hungry because He has food they don't know about. They were confused and then Jesus said: "My food is to do the will of the one who sent me and to finish his work" (John 4:34).

Even when I'm tired, even when I'm stuck behind an RV, even when schedules change and life's routines are messed up, I must continue to do the will of God and finish his work. Just like Jesus.

Problem Solved

2011-09-04T16:41:00.000-07:00

If you have been trying to check Scattering Agates and another site kept hijacking it, well I've solved the problem. Whew. Welcome back!

No Ordinary Love

2011-08-24T01:20:00.000-07:00

Every once in a while I get a stirring inside of me that wants to do something or be something great. I wish for the fame of an ultra talented writer who sells many books and changes lives or that

I could be a professional runner who lives for running and wins. I wish that I had incredible creativity and sold fantastic crafty type things on Etsy or that I was a super good cook and had dinner parties every weekend. Alas, I am none of these things. I'm just a normal, ordinary, every day, type of person. No one looks twice when I walk by. I live in a normal, ordinary, every day house on a normal, ordinary, every day street.

The other day my plain little house was bustling with the noises of norm (kids quarreling, TV blaring, baby whining) when I stepped outside, as I do every day, to throw out some trash. The door shut behind me and I was struck by the quietness of the morning. I could hear some far away barks of a restless dog, the wind rustling tree leaves, but then caught sight of a silently soaring bird. My eyes followed its flight to the end of our street before I walked back into the clatter of my life.

Since then I've noticed these silent birds in flight almost every where I go. I am intrigued by how often they soar by without fanfare or demand for attention. These birds are going about the ordinary business of their days. Maybe one is gathering twigs for a nest, or another scouting out her prey. Whatever the task, each bird is doing what it was created to do and for all I know, perfectly content with life. A normal, ordinary, every day kind of life for a bird.

I know that, at least for now, God is not asking me to be anything extraordinary. He needs me to be ordinary. I may not be signing books or on the cover of Runners' World, but my life has meaning to those close to me because of ordinary love. I love because I was first loved by God. It is a love that is linked forever to the sacrifice of the cross. This same Love can flow through me and continue on forever if I am willing to accept this life God has given me. God's love multiplies and so ordinary love, does in fact, have the amazing capability to change the world. Now whenever I see a bird soaring through the air, I silently accept again God's love and this life He has given me because God's love is no ordinary love.

On this day over 2,000 years ago...

2011-04-21T15:32:00.000-07:00

"...the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it, and said, 'This is my body which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.' In the same way also the cup, after supper, saying, 'This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.' For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes." (1 Corinthians 11:23-26)

HOLY THURSDAY

In 1921, the Protestant theologian Ferdinand Kattenbusch tried to show that Jesus' words of institution at the Last Supper constituted the act of founding the Church. With these words, he argued, Jesus gave his disciples something new that bound them together and made them into a community. Kattenbusch was right: with the Eucharist, the Church herself was established. Through Christ's body, the Church became one, she became herself, and at the same time, through his death, she was opened up to the breadth of the world and its history.

The Eucharist is also a visible process of gathering. In each locality, as well as beyond all localities, it involves entering into communion with the living God, who inwardly draws people together. The Church comes into being from the Eucharist. She receives her unity and her mission from the Eucharist. She is derived from the Last Supper, that is to say, from Christ's death and Resurrection, which he anticipated in the gift of his body and blood.

-Pope Benedict XVI, Jesus of Nazareth: Holy Week

Trying to get my ducks in a row

2011-04-18T14:39:00.000-07:00

I've always admired and even longed to be one of those people who seem to have their ducks in row. There are people who are born with a natural tendency toward discipline and order. I am not like that. I get distracted easily and have more of a tendency to sit than to "do." An orderly life takes a whole lot of "doing." Not only do I admire these kinds of driven people, especially moms, but the world does as well. It is a badge of honor in our society when someone can manage a full and balanced life with many accomplishments and things to show for it. We measure success by how put together someone may seem.

Our ways are not God's ways

It has become very clear to me lately that our ways are not God's ways when it comes to success and achievement. As I have been increasing my prayer time and embracing the quiet in my days, my life has taken on a more orderly appearance. Mostly because I do a whole lot less than I used to (including writing on this blog which does make me sad sometimes). My energy and work has been not getting my outside ducks in order, but the ducks inside my soul. The irony is that while I focus more on my relationship with Jesus, He seems to take care of my earthly needs.

For example, last weekend I met up with some of my fashionable in-laws. While I used to fret and worry about what to wear and how I'm so bad at dressing myself, I simply asked them to help me. As we moved from store to store and dressing room to dressing room, I kept a running conversation in my mind with God. I knew that these clothes were just clothes and a necessity, but not necessary for my happiness. All my clothes were bought easily and the shopping experience was the smoothest I've had.

Another worry I've always had was over what to cook my family. That too has become more simplified as I think less about feeding myself and family and more about feeding my soul through prayer and spiritual reading. Meals come much more easily now and sometimes it seems like my guardian angel whispers the ideas in my head and the meals are easily executed. Then, and this is going to sound crazy, I happily clean up because it's mindless work and I can easily talk to God. It's work I do for Him.

Getting my spiritual ducks in a row

So back to those ducks inside me. My spiritual ducks. It seems like they are always a mess. I cannot gather them together well at all. However, in the spiritual world, that's not the point. God does not expect perfection, He just wants me to keep trying. If you could see inside my soul, you'd probably laugh as I chase these ducks around. I'll catch one for an instance, but have to set it down quickly to chase after another one. It is a lot of work and I'm not sure they will ever line up. I do find myself exasperated at times and sit down to cry, but Jesus keeps on urging me to keep trying because that's what matters. I may not ever have success, but it's the trying that counts.

It seems so backwards in our success and outcome based world, but that's just what I do. And while I chase these ducks around, I trust in God's knowledge of the bigger picture because His ducks are in a perfect and infinite row.

Find orginal photo of these ducks here.

Finding Time to Pray

2011-03-16T00:46:00.000-07:00

Finding time to pray in the midst of family life is difficult, to say the least, but it is not impossible. I have tried to devote myself to praying thirty minutes in the morning and thirty minutes in the evening. I try hard to find a quiet place to spend some time to listen to God. Evening prayer is a little easier for me because the kids are in bed although it can get late due to the ultimate time-waster: TV. However, I am not an early riser and often find myself waking up with the children instead of before them.

Take Advantage of Unusual Hours

My recent solution to this problem has been to take advantage of unusual hours. If I am getting pretty good sleep, this solution works pretty well. For example, I woke up this morning around 5 AM for a drink of water. Instead of crawling back in bed, I crawled up with my Bible and spent that time with the Lord. It, of course, was very quiet. When I finished praying, I went back to bed and woke up with the children as usual. Then this evening, I went to bed early and then around 11 PM I woke up to pray my rosary (now I am actually writing a blog post for the first time in a long time).

Prayer is so important and however I can manage to do it, I try. I am not exactly a disciplined person and easily fall into my old habits, but each day I start anew. For too long my soul was starving and just as my tummy starts to rumble when I'm hungry, so my peace starts to fade when my soul needs prayer. So, until my house is not bursting with children and quiet time is ample, I will continue to take advantage of whatever time I can.

Now that my baby is sleeping through the night I realize what a gift it was to get up with him, not that I want to do that anymore, but those wee hours were a blessing for my prayer life. If you have a baby, take advantage of the time and the Lord will surely bless you. We will all have ample time for rest in heaven. :)

Make 5 Dinners in One Hour

2011-03-05T20:59:00.000-08:00

I'm so excited about my meals for this coming week. Let me explain. My family is picky. Very picky. Everyone I know takes pity on me when they hear the horror stories of the nightly battles I have to face with all of them, including my husband. I, admittedly, am not a great cook so that does not help matters. When I discovered Make 5 Dinners in One Hour, I was ready to try anything to give me some kind of boost of confidence. I subscribed and have used many of Michelle's menus and recipes. I enjoy the assembly process because it is quick and efficient but I especially love to have a fridge full of meals ready to cook.

To be honest, not all of Michelle's meals satisfy my picky eaters (that would be a dream). However, some of them do and that's a huge step forward for me. What I have done is have my family rate each meal as we eat them. Then I cut out the meals that my family will eat and save them to cook again. The reason I am so excited about this coming week is that I have put together five of Michelle's meals that I know my family will enjoy. I practically danced down the isles of the grocery store as I imagined first, my fridge full with meals ready, and second, my picky eaters eating them!

Be sure to check out Michelle's blog and get a month's free subscription. I'm sure glad I did.

Signs in the sky?

2011-02-11T09:39:00.000-08:00

Filmed in Russia and posted to You Tube last July.

Why is it so hard to center and listen?

2011-02-02T14:41:00.000-08:00

This was a very good question asked in a comment on the last post. As soon as I read it, I felt immediately compelled to answer it. Well, not exactly answer it, but analyze it because I've been asking myself the same question.

In the last month, my work toward peace, silence and stillness was an amazing eye-opening experience for me. It was at once difficult and wonderful. It was a journey into the depths of my self and my life (as it is) while holding the hand of God. I, to be honest, was surprised that this way of life was even an option for me as a mother at home with three children.

Slowly, however, my peace has been disturbed. Trying to center and listen to Jesus has become harder and harder. It's almost like trying to step on the head of my own shadow. Why, I wonder, can't I live in that state forever? Why is it so difficult to maintain?

First of all, I think I was given a gift; a grace to see and understand a little bit how God is so near to me and answering my every prayer. He hears every sigh and every plea for help.  He smiles when I'm happy, cries with me when I'm sad and comforts me while I'm sick. But, He is always asking me to do more. He wants me to be more connected to Him and to do my duty unswervingly. To live my vocation and be the best possible me I can be (as I was created to be).

I think that God gives us these periods in our life that are graced with his presence. It's like He lifts a veil for a bit and the blind can see! In these times, I personally feel like I can do anything. I could practically walk on water or even fly. I get so full of zeal about the reality of heaven that everything else seems so useless and even boring. It's like being in love.  Eventually, I must sink back into reality and it is in these times that my faith is tested and hopefully strengthened. It is also in these periods of spiritual dryness that the battle begins and temptation rears its ugly head.

However, even Jesus was tempted so I am not alone. We are all tempted.  Its like passing the SAT to get into college.  I had twelve years of quizzes and tests to prepare me for that one big examination of the knowledge I had attained. The temptations I experience now are the tests and quizzes preparing me for the day I see God face-to-face.

Temptation comes from three sources, all of which God allows us to be tempted by in order to strengthen us: the world, the flesh and the devil. I have learned in a very clear way this last month, how important it is to recognize those things that rob me of my peace. It may be the pull of "the world" that keeps me in front of the TV instead of taking that time to pray. It may be my "flesh" that urges me to eat one more helping of spaghetti and take up that much time that could have been spent rocking my child before bed. Or it could actually be the devil who desires to devour any kind of true peace and keep my riddled with anxiety, guilt and frenzy.

Whatever the temptation, it is clear to me now that God is always very near and I must continue to push back on those things that keep me from drawing ever closer to Him, the source of all life. Just like the flower garden in front of my house has to constantly be weeded so the flowers have room to bloom. I must weed out temptations so my soul can bloom again and again.

Contemplating Contemplative

2011-01-27T22:14:00.000-08:00

It's weird for me to even say or write this, but life is so much more fulfilling and less complicated and draining when I strive to be a sort of contemplative-stay-at-home-mom. I'm not running myself ragged anymore with flitting thoughts of this or that. I am focused and my life has purpose. I wash the dishes, do the laundry, make meals, take care of sick kids, change diapers, just as I always have. I just do it with less drama. I do it for Jesus.

It's sort of like labor. When my mind was focused and I let myself feel the pain and almost analyze it, I could stay calm and in control. When I lost my focus, I felt like a wild woman about to tear into the doctors, nurses and my husband. I felt frantic, scared and worried that I could not complete the task at hand.

My "labor" now is nothing new. I am just more focused. When things get especially hard, I try to focus my thoughts on remaining calm and at peace by offering it all to God in prayer.

All my thoughts, works, joys and sufferings I offer as a prayer. When my mind starts to wander and worry, I try to bring it back to a conversation with God. Sometimes I even shut the door to my room and pray until I am calm again and then walk out following Jesus.

A Contemplative-Stay-at-Home-Mom. I like the sound of that! It think I'll write that on the next form that asks for the mother's occupation.

While I Walked on Slug Tracks

2011-01-23T20:38:00.000-08:00

We've had a few days of sunshine and yesterday I took advantage of the break from the rain. While my husband and children were home, I zipped up my red windbreaker and headed out toward the edge of town. I was looking for quiet. Quiet is hard to find in this world. I'm learning that very quickly. The further I got from town, the quieter it got. As I walked, I had a conversation with God. Not out loud, but in my mind.

We talked about a lot of things. I can't recall ever having such an easy talk with the Lord. This past month working on quieting my soul and stilling my mind has helped me to actually hear what God is saying to me. The doubt I used to have about whose voice I was hearing, my own or God's, has faded (of course, I still must discern prayerfully). Even though I am able to hear the voice of God more easily, I am taking things very slowly. In the past, when I felt the Lord had told me something, I'd blabber away to all who would listen. Now, a little like Mary, I ponder them in my heart. God will let me know when to speak. I am confident in that. This is the reason for less blog posts.

As I walked along in silence of God's creation, the sun shone just right on the road under my feet and I could see a bunch of slimy slug tracks. I did not see any slugs, just the evidence of them being there at one time. There were so many tracks that the path under my feet was covered almost completely like lace. It made me think about all those people who have come before me. All those who have walked this same walk and are now in heaven. Although I am uniquely created, this conversion to silence, these conversations with God, are not only my privilege. God desires the same from everyone. He loves us all that much.

"Seek...first the kingdom of God and his righteousness and all these things shall be given to you." ~Matthew 6:33

Know Jesus Know Peace

2011-01-16T10:02:00.000-08:00

While standing around with a group of friends the other day, I was struck by the looks of exhaustion in their faces. Some even complained out loud about it. One recounted the hassle of some household fixes she and her husband had discovered and were discussing the financial burden it entailed, another told of the difficulty they were having with their renters not paying on time and the fact that she needs a new bed (the one she has now is hurting her back) but can't afford one. All of them had small children, so that was the undertone of each conversation.

As we swapped stories of stress and tiredness, I realized I had nothing to add. Normally I would go into a litany of things I'm exhausted and exasperated over. It would even be difficult for me to not demand that someone, anyone, listen to me so that I could share my desperation in hopes that by sharing, there might be some sort of solution and I could find peace.

I have found the peace I was forever seeking. It did not come by sharing out loud, it came by quieting my thoughts and my words. Instead of adding to a conversation of exhausted moms, I listen and pray. Instead of peppering my husband with the details of my day, I offer each detail up in prayer throughout the day. Instead of ramping up anxiety when I am running late, I take a deep breath and say to myself, "Jesus I trust in you and your perfect timing." I always try to remain in that calm, quiet place where my Lord is, and in return, my desperate exhaustion has disappeared.

Practical steps I have taken to peace:

If a task seems hard, pray, "Jesus, I give this moment to you for your intentions," or "Jesus, I trust in you."
Ask for help from Jesus and Mary.
Try not to talk too much.
Do household tasks steadily and even ask Jesus what to do next.
Eat only to sustain myself to do my duties (care for children and house).
Keep the kitchen, dining room and front room tidy so all can relax, including visitors.
Avoid noise (TV, radio, internet).
Stop thoughts of worry and anxiety, about past or present, before they steal my energy.
Everything, I mean everything, I do I offer to Jesus and it is when I forget to do this that my peace starts to fade.

Don't get me wrong, I am still tired, it's just different. It is a peaceful tiredness. I have been up each night with the baby and up early with him as well. My eldest daughter spent half the night up with sickness the other night and the housework never ends. However, it's a tiredness that is manageable and doesn't throw me into monster mommy mode. I am able to tolerate, and even embrace, things that used to drive me crazy. I just turn my thoughts to prayer instead of irritated and angry words.

When Peace is Disturbed

This path to peace has had its rocks and roots that I have stumbled over. I have even fallen flat on my face. But the fall is short lived. The other day I stole into the back room for a giant cry after a particularly hard fall. In that instance, I felt like such a failure. I was about to give up on this path I had started down because I was sure I couldn't do it anymore. How could I when my peace was disturbed so easily? I curled up where I would not be seen and cried to God. I did not grab the phone or even my computer, I had a conversation with Jesus. His words to me while I sobbed were, "now you understand, just a little bit, the suffering I went through on the cross...for you and for the world."

That's the whole purpose of my life now. To unite my sufferings and work with Christ. In doing so, I not only find peace, but joy as well.

No Jesus No Peace

From Insanity to Silence

2011-01-11T22:34:00.000-08:00

For the last ten minutes or so I have been sitting alone. The entire family is in bed and it is quiet. About an hour ago, the Star Wars Wii game blared, music played on the computer, my children rode a noisy hobby horse in the middle of everything and the dishwasher was making it's dish washing noises.

All of that is gone now. All is silent.

It is in these quiet times that I am able to listen to God in prayer. This silence and listening that I have been practicing (the key word is practicing) has opened up space in my life to be more aware of the needs of my little family. I've noticed that Little Bear needs some hugs every once in a while (just like she did when she was a baby) and I do not deny them, or that Grasshopper has a joke to tell and I listen while delighting in her smile.

This silent space has also crept into my day-to-day and has become my secret place to run to when things get a little frantic. When I start to feel frazzled or worried, I turn my thoughts inward, to that dark and quiet place where Jesus is, and almost instantly I am calm. A once hectic moment turns peaceful and I move on with the day.

If I could go back to all the times I threw up my hands in desperation over this work of mothering I'd say, "Holly, be silent and listen to Jesus."

"Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." (Matthew 11:28-30)

I'm sitting where the TV used to be

2011-01-08T13:48:00.000-08:00

We have moved our furniture around after taking down the Christmas tree. The change is refreshing and has made our living room seem bigger. That's good in our little house. We placed a rocking chair in a place were the TV used to be, so now my perspective is different enough that I can see a small spot we missed when painting our ceiling before we moved in. I can also see some cobwebs blowing in the breeze of the heater...collecting dust...great.

At the same time, I've been going through a sort of spiritual rearranging of furniture. It too has changed my perspective enough to reveal some things I was not aware of. There is more to this than I can write, but it has become very clear to me that I have multiple mechanisms in my life to keep me "busy" and when I'm busy, it's hard to follow or even hear the gentle promptings of the Holy Spirit. Even a small thing like chewing gum. I shove gum in my mouth and all of a sudden my mind is racing as my jaw works overtime. It's the same with mindless eating and even my coffee habit.

Slowly and quietly, with constant guidance from Jesus, I am giving these things up (I had no idea I was addicted to coffee until I stopped drinking it). Slowly and quietly, I am changing as well. Our living room is still the same old living room, it just looks different because things have been moved around and some clutter removed. It's the same with me, I think. I'm still the same old Holly, only my perspective has shifted, some clutter has been removed and I feel more at peace.

A Resting Place

2011-01-05T21:05:00.000-08:00

My Dear Agate Seekers,

Some of you may have noticed that I have been absent to the blog world for almost a week! I have started to feel exhausted by the words and images of blogs, the Internet, TV, radio and the sound of my own voice. It seems like everyone is screaming at me for attention. Then my little children scream at me and each other for attention as well.

Since Christmas, I have made a deliberate effort to be silent. I am attempting to still my soul so that the Holy Spirit can find a place to rest. Rather than getting out my laptop for down time, I have been pulling my daughter on my lap instead. Instead of furiously cleaning the kitchen to get to the Internet, I have been slowly cleaning the kitchen and graciously giving my children one more drink or one more quesadilla. Instead of swatting my children away while I carefully fold the laundry I have been part of their games (the Ice Queen the other day in fact). It has been a calm time for me. A time to reacquaint myself with Jesus. A blessed time that I'm not anxious to leave.

I'm not sure what direction my writing is going to take after this, but I'm pretty sure the tone will change if life continues as it has (and I hope it does). It feels like it's time for me to grow up and embrace this life the Lord has chosen for me. I'm ready to do that. Maybe you will join me in the silence.

7 Quick Takes Friday (vol. 10)

2010-12-30T21:16:00.000-08:00

Click on the image above to read Jennifer Fulwiler's blog.

~1~

It's that time of year when I endure the post Christmas Clutter Crash. Right now, our tree is dry, the ornaments look as if they are all about to fall off and the unwrapped presents are piled in a disorganized puddle underneath. What a mess. I just need to go into clean-up mode and get this stuff put away and put out, but it's difficult to do that. Christmas was so wonderful, so beautiful, so joyful and to put all of that away is hard for me. Thankfully, as a Catholic, we get to celebrate Christmas this year until the 9th of January. However, I still need to get the tree out of the house before the needles burry all the presents.

~2~

One present I am still enjoying is this year's Christmas video by The Killers (a present not only for me but for everybody). This year's song, "Boots," might be my favorite Christmas song they've put out yet. Since we are still celebrating Christmas, it's not too late to watch (or listen) to it. The images that Brandon comes up with are great in this song. He, in my opinion, is an amazing writer and artist. This particular song gives the listener a glimpse in the life of a family (his I assume)at Christmastime. The following is the YouTube version without the video. I personally prefer to listen to the words of this song. CLICK HERE to watch the official video if you'd like. Without further ado: "BOOTS".

~3~

Hidden somewhere under our dilapidated tree are my gifts, most of which were books this year. Of course, this makes me so happy. I think my husband finally figured out that books are more pleasing to me than, say, an electric skillet. He bought three for me this year...well, sort of..one I ordered for myself and wrapped it from him. Here are all the books I received and am so anxious to read:

Broke: The Plan to Restore Our Trust, Truth and Treasure by Glenn Beck
A Tale of Two Cities and Great Expectations (two novels combined) by Charles Dickens
Jesus of Nazareth by Pope Benedict XVI (this is the one I ordered for myself)
Van Gogh: A Retrospective edited by Susan Alyson Stein (thanks Sweet Bee)

Happy reading to me! What are you reading? Just thought I'd ask.

~4~

That reminds me, I have changed my setting for comments on this blog. Some people have mentioned that it is difficult to comment and I'm always trying to get my shy readers to tell me something, anything, so I removed one step. Go ahead, try to comment...if you dare! But remember this, I will still write whether I get a comment or not.

~5~

Even though the Christmas Clutter Crash is bothering me, it's not as bad this year as in the past. I was very careful to only buy four gifts for each child plus a Santa gift. I am trying to avoid that overwhelming, over-consumerized (is that a word?) Christmas. My husband remembers Christmases with lots of gifts and glitz so he has been the resistance in our family to simplifying. I told him that I was only buying four nice gifts this year and if he thinks the girls need more than that, then he can buy and wrap them himself. It worked! Plus, I wrap our gifts in fabric instead of paper and that cuts down on the craziness as well.

~6~

The other day my sister sent me a link to a site of some videos of the Shroud of Turin converted from 2D to 3D. I wrapped our gifts in fabric and Jesus was wrapped in this shroud at his burial! At least some claim it is so.

As the website says, "[t]he final work of the conversion from 2D to 3D by Bernardo Galmarini included the positioning of the 625 virtual camera shots, placed in a virtual lateral camera array..."

It's pretty cool. CLICK HERE to check it out!

CLICK HERE for information on the shroud from Wikipedia.

~7~

With the arrival of New Year's Eve, I guess it's time for New Year's resolutions. At this point, I don't have any. In fact, I don't plan to have any. Not because my life is perfect, but because I'm tired of failing to keep my resolutions. Maybe I'll start a movement: A Campaign Against New Year's Resolutions for Those Stuck in Mediocrity. Will you join me in boycotting all news and articles having to do with resolutions? If enough people join together, maybe I won't have to be bombarded every year with guilt.

Happy New Year! Cheers to you and yours!

Innocent Souls

2010-12-30T11:44:00.000-08:00

A lot of my time is spent thinking (and talking) about the personalities of my children. I will often refer to my oldest as "strong-willed," my middle as "emotional" and my baby as "fun." I can talk and ponder for days about how my children react to the world and, more importantly (to me), how they challenge me and often make my life miserable.

Not too long ago, I stood at the door with a friend of mine who often takes Grasshopper to school.  We looked at each other, as we often do, with eyes of desperation. These children are sucking the life right out of us, our eyes said to each other. I sometimes wonder if, after I raise these kids, if I will have any energy left for me.

Yesterday, actually a while ago, a thought started to protrude into my head that would bring tears to those same desperate eyes. I was watching the Duggars on 19 Kids & Counting (only because it comes on before Sarah Palin's Alaska) and in this episode the oldest Duggar child and his wife announced their pregnancy. It would be their second child and another grandchild of Mr. and Mrs. Duggar.

What made me cry was Mrs. Duggar's response to this announcement. You'd think, in our world anyway, that an announcement like that would bring a weary sigh out of a mother of 19. How will she ever be able to enjoy this grandchild when her arms are stretched to their limit with her own babies? That was not her response at all. She, instead, shed tears of joy over the announcement. She obviously perceived the impending birth as a gift.

Back to yesterday. It was the feast of the Holy Innocents. We remembered the death of those babies that were murdered by order of King Herod. He had found out that a king (Jesus) had been born and wanted to make sure that this king would not be a threat to the thrown. Of course, Jesus was saved due to Joseph being warned in a dream, but all those other baby boys, under the age of two, were not. I wondered how those mothers felt. As I held my baby boy, he fussed over something, as he has been lately, and instead of feeling desperate and fatigued by his constant drags on my time and energy, I thought of those women whose babies had been ripped from them. How the echoes of those lives lost must have tortured their thoughts and how they would take the fussing and crying any day just to have their babies back in their arms.

Although I am pro-life, I am still a victim to our culture's attitude that is not. We, like most, planned our children, except for our first.   In fact, when I found out I was pregnant with her, I was a little irritated because that was not what I had wanted. Having children in our culture is all about me. How will these kids influence my life, my time, my job, my relationship with my spouse, and my dreams. We discuss the cost of time and money before we think of the gift of a life.

I want to change my thinking. I want to be more like Mrs. Duggar. My children are not a problem to be solved or even an extension of my existence. They are a gift. A gift to me and to the world. It is not my job to figure out their personalities or to place them in the right places for success, although that is part of my role in their lives. My job is to care for them as the gifts they are. My duty is to nurture their souls. They have come to me, as a gift from God, with great potential to change the world for good, and I must hold their souls tenderly. It is not about what they take from me, but how I am helping God to mold them into His image. My work with the souls of my children is a lot like Michelangelo's chiseled masterpieces. He worked to bring an image out of a block of marble that, he beleived, was already there. It just had to be chiseled out. So too, is the work I have with these innocent souls that have been given to me.  What a gift.

Pieta by Michelangelo
(one of the most moving works of art I have ever seen)

Work in Peace

2010-12-27T18:42:00.000-08:00

"So Peter...went into the tomb and saw the burial cloths there,

and the cloth that had covered his head,

not with the burial cloths but rolled up in a separate place."

(John 20)

I was struck by this passage in today's reading and the fact that Jesus deliberately rolled up the cloth that had covered his head. I can imagine that He was pretty excited to let his friends and the world know what had just occurred. He was dead, and now He was alive! He was rejected and shamed, but now He was resurrected, the breath of life was back in His body. Yet, He was in no hurry to let anyone know. He took the time to roll up the cloth that covered His head and He was probably very peaceful while doing it.

So many days I am rushing around trying to accomplish all my housework while fretting about the many other tasks I am not able to get to. Instead of doing things well and being peaceful, I end up feeling frantic. Even if all the tasks are completed by the end of the day, I often feel run down, overworked and irritated. After reading today's reading, I made a conscience effort to slow down and be deliberate with my tasks, as Jesus was with that cloth. Amazingly, I accomplished as much as usual in probably the same amount of time, without being in a hurry. My mind was at peace for much of the day.

Bubby Boy, my nine-month-old, was particularly crabby today and some giant nobs protruded through his upper and lower gums (but no teeth yet). Slowly and deliberately I took care of him. I rocked him, fed him, changed his diaper, and all without a that nagging, rushed feeling I normally have. In the midst of his misery, I vacuumed the house, made my bed, cleaned my room and even reorganized Little Bear's room. Amazingly, my children and I ate a home cooked meal, I read stories to Little Bear, and I was even able to play a board game with the girls. I might go so far as to call today's accomplishments a miracle.

If Jesus can take the time to roll his burial cloth even when such news is waiting to be shared, then I too can take my time with my work at home and be at peace.

A Fresh New Look

2010-12-26T16:34:00.000-08:00

I warned you that I might change the template of this blog and it is done. I will probably tweak it some more, but this is the basic new look. This post is your chance to get used to it. Whenever I read a blog and the look changes, I feel lost for a while. Rest assured, this is still Scattering Agates and I am still Holly. It was time for a change anyway, don't you think?

I'll be back to writing soon. Surprisingly, it has been hard for me not to write these last few days. Just when I thought a break was needed, I had thousands of blog post ideas. The problem is, now I can't remember what they were! At this moment, however, I have neglected my home and my hungry children to make this update!

More soon...

...to be continued...

2010-12-21T09:20:00.000-08:00

Scattering Agates will be back in action after Christmas. This seems to be a good time of year for me to take a little break. Plus, maybe it will free up my fingers and writing creativity to get my Christmas letter done. That letter is still blinking in my mind's eye like a cursor on a white computer screen.

If you are so inclined, you may want to read some of the old posts from this blog archived when you scroll to the bottom of this page.

Have a very Merry and blessed Christmas. May you find, as we all desire, the peace in your heart as Christ only can bring.

Oh...before I go, I wanted to let you know the carolling party was a great success. Twelve adults and a multitude of children gathered in our small living room and sang their hearts out. It turned out to be just as I imagined and I think this will definitely make it on our Christmas Traditions list in years to come.

7 Quick Takes Friday (vol. 9)

2010-12-17T07:08:00.000-08:00

Click on the image above to go to Conversion Diary

~1~

My goodness this is a busy time of year. My calendar is full to the brim and I have been trying hard to say "no" to things that are unnecessary. That being said, I decided to add exercise to my schedule this week (just three hours total). My husband thinks I'm crazy. My thought was that if I'm busy, I may as well schedule every minute. To be honest, I think I am actually much more productive around the home when I give myself more to do. I am also getting myself in bed before 10:00 PM because even though the activity is flying around me, I am still managing to mentally focus on two things: 1. feeding my family, 2. sleep.

~2~

Although I have not written our Christmas letter, I have managed a small number of Advent activities for my little family. As always, we have our Advent Calendar with a Scripture reflection and chocolate, and of course we have our Advent wreath. This year I have set the wreath on our prayer shelf instead of the dining room table. Each night for family prayer, we gather around the lighted wreath and pray some special prayers together from a book called, Advent Begins as Home: Family Prayers and Activities. I like, but don't love this book. We also made an "O Antiphon" house and will begin to open the windows today.

CLICK HERE for more information on the "O Antiphons" and other neat-o Advent prayer and activities. I find this site (Catholic Culture) to be a very good resource for all things Catholic/Christian.

~3~

The other night I volunteered at the school's craft fair. I was so happy when I ventured into my child's classroom and it was decked with Christmas decor: A Christmas tree, a Nativity scene, a large picture of Mary, Joseph and Jesus. The teacher, who happens to be a Catholic, looked at me and sheepishly told me it's Christmas in her classroom. I was a taken aback because I had seen some worksheets on Kwanzaa and Hanukkah come home. She said that in order to teach about Christmas, she has to teach all the different holidays. It made me very happy and she has not had one complaint. I wanted to high five her, and say, "you go, girl," but wasn't sure how she'd respond to that. I'm pretty sure she already thinks I'm a fanatic because I was upset that one of Grasshopper's spelling words was sorcerer.

~4~

Every year about this time my family, including my parents, pile into our van for a trip to Shore Acres State Park near Coos Bay. If you are ever on the Oregon coast during this season (or anytime) this is a great park to visit. From the day after Thanksgiving to New Year's Eve they cover every tree, flower and shrub with Christmas lights. It's fantastic! We usually drive up, browse the light display, drink a cup of cider then mosey out to dinner. We drive back late while and the kids slumber all the way home. There is a great historical fiction novel about Shore Acres, that I have not read yet, by my favorite Oregon author, Jane Kirkpatrick. It is called A Gathering of Finches. It's on my shelf of books to read and comes highly recommended by my mom and others.

~5~

Our Christmas letter, although not even started, is on my mind. In past years, it was the first thing I would do. I love to read the letters I've written, saved in a three-ringed binder, as a sort of family history. I have one from each year of our marriage (8 so far, 9 when this year's is finished) and one from the year before we were married. I get sentimental each year as I read about the times we moved, had babies, changed jobs, etc. This has become one of my favorite Christmas traditions. However, it does add a certain amount of pressure on me to get this year's letter complete. It cannot be taken out of my oh-so-busy schedule. Maybe I can work on it on Christmas Eve after all the gifts are wrapped and Santa has left his special gift...wait, that would actually be Christmas morning.

~6~

Oh yes, Santa. Every year this whole Santa thing is sort of a pain to me (ba humbug). Now that Grasshopper is eight, she is asking all kinds of questions that I try to avoid answering. I don't want to spoil her fun, but I have an overwhelming urge to just tell her he is...cover your child's eyes...NOT REAL. Now can we move on to the real, deep, awesome, meaning of Christmas? I've tried the whole St. Nicholas thing, but it doesn't seem to work. No matter how much emphasis I put on Jesus and little I put on Santa, if you ask my children what Christmas is about they shout, "SANTA!" Then, when they see my shoulders drop and hear the deflated sigh come out of my mouth they'll add, "and Jesus" with diminished enthusiasm. Grrrr...

~7~

It is so wonderful and fun to sing with a group of people so this year I've decided to have a Christmas Carolling party. We are not walking door to door, but we are going to sing around my living room after we fill our bellies with sweets and beverages to loosen us up and make us merry. I hope to make this another family tradition.

What kinds of Christmas traditions do you love to do with your family?

Have a blessed fourth week of Advent (as we move from guadete back to suffering)

Be Strong

2010-12-16T10:42:00.000-08:00

I've been watching Sarah Palin's Alaska on TLC. Sarah Palin, no matter what you think of her politics, is one strong woman. She reminds me a lot of women I have grown up with in Montana. They, like she, are strong, smart and beautiful. Sometimes their beauty is not as flashy as Palin's, but they have a radiance from their inner strength.

Last Sunday on the show, Kate Gosselin, from ~~John and~~ Kate Plus 8, was in Alaska with Sarah Palin. They were going camping together. Before they even set up camp, they had to be trained in bear defense. The scenes where Sarah shoots a giant gun at a bear target are amazing. She obviously loves the activity. Kate, meanwhile, seemed quite horrified by the whole experience.

That's not even the worst of it. When they finally arrived at the campsite, it was cold and raining. Sarah and her family, used to being in the rugged outdoors, made the best of their time in spite of the drizzly weather. Kate, on the other hand, sat under the tent and whined and complained until she finally informed Sarah that she was not staying the night. She utterly wimped out.

I grew up camping and doing outdoorsy kinds of stuff. Our little family shares the Palin's love for time in the wilderness. While watching the show I was annoyed with Kate Gosselin for being such a whiner.

However, ahem...however, I am, in a lot of ways, more like Kate than Sarah. It is very hard for me to admit this. I have always imagined myself a strong woman, and in many ways I am. But, I am not often a strong wife and mother. Many women in my life grab on to their roles as wives and mothers and take charge. They, like Sarah Palin, keep trudging forward in spite of the weather. They are not paralyzed by unorganized toys, not-so-fantastic dinners, or unseemly behavior in their children. These women take charge of the home even through the difficult times.

I rely a lot, too much, on people around me to "help" me. My husband comes home from work and I start in on my litany of complaints. I'll whine about my lack of energy or how I just couldn't make dinner or how badly his girls behaved and then look at him pleadingly. "What should I do?" How annoying! He gives me reassurance, but it's never enough for me.

In last Sunday's reading from Isaiah 35, the words BE STRONG jumped out at me. Then I saw a travel mug with the same words. Yesterday, I was not unusually paralyzed by moving furniture to set up the Christmas tree, when it hit me. I can do this. I can take charge of the home. I don't need my husband, or anyone else, to move a couch. I did invite a friend over for some extra courage and she actually used the same words. She told me to BE STRONG and that I can do things, like move furniture and set up a Christmas tree, without help. She basically told me I need to prove to myself and my husband that I can manage the tasks at hand. I don't need to be a victim of the "weather."

She's right. I can move a tree, make a dinner, clean and organize a room, without help and constant reassurance. I am strong. God has given me the vocation of motherhood and He gives me the strength to endure it and to take charge of it. I don't need to wait for my husband, or anyone else, to validate my role in our home.

I'm not saying I don't ever need help. My husband is my "helpmate," as God's Word states. Our marriage partnership is just that, a partnership (with benefits). I am saying that my part in this partnership, is mine. I must own it. I am ~~woman~~ mother, hear me roar!

TLC preview of the show if you want to watch Kate Gosselin being a wimp.
Something I've learned in the past: if I act like a victim, people will treat me like a victim.
While writing this post, Little Bear was watching Little Bear. The characters kept saying the following: "Whether the weather be cold, or whether weather be hot. We'll weather the weather, whatever the weather, whether we like it or not."

Gaudete!

2010-12-12T22:22:00.000-08:00

It's the third week of Advent marked by the lighting of the third, rose colored, candle of the Advent wreath. The pink represents rejoicing (gaudete), as apposed to the three others colored purple, which represents suffering. Suffering. That just hit me these last couple days. Up until this week, all the readings of the Advent season have focused on the fact that we live in a world in need of a Savior. We are called to reflect more deeply on the coming of Jesus, and I guess we do that by reading a bunch of Scripture about suffering, blindness, deafness, loneliness, grief, and the end of the world. Not exactly joyful. Then, in the middle of our preparation for Christmas, we read readings about rejoicing, the blind see, the lame walk, the deaf hear and those who weep, shout for joy.

My thoughts turn to Mary. Mary, the picture of perfect peace, acceptance and joy, did not have it all that easy. Her baby, was conceived by the Holy Spirit, without Joseph the man she was engaged to. Joseph, who should have refused to marry her, did not refuse and so they were a marked couple. Not only that, in her first trimester, when she was probably exhausted and sick, she traveled, walked most likely, to the village of Elizabeth to take care of her in her last trimester. That's much different than tenderly caressing her tummy and humming lullabies while seated on a cushy chair. Then, she had to go to Bethlehem, another long journey, in her last days before Jesus was born. I've had three babies, those days toward the end drag on forever and are extremely uncomfortable, and to be traveling at that time would not be ideal. In fact, I avoided almost all travel by that time. To top it off, when they get to Bethlehem, there was no room in the hotels. They had to go door to door looking for a place to stay the night and end up in a stable with a bunch of animals.

The reality of Mary's time to prepare for her bundle of joy, was marked with one stress and suffering after another, it seems. Thus, the three purple candles of the Advent wreath can be a reflection on Mary's stress and suffering as she prepared for Christ's birth. It can also represent my own stress and suffering as I prepare for Christmas day and throughout my life.

Imagine, then, what it was like for Mary to realize that Jesus was on His way, as they settled down in this barn. She probably smelled some pretty stinky animal smells, felt cow breath on her neck and had to avoid sitting on anything wet. I bet there where chickens making chicken noises, sheep snoring, and who knows what else making this place less than ideal for a small, perfect little baby to be born. Yet, after, and in spite of it all, I bet Mary was filled with joy knowing that Jesus was about to arrive. She was probably so ready to get that baby in her arms that the noises, smells, jeers and stress of her life were nothing. Instead, she was consumed with joyful hope.

At least for the moment.

This Advent, and this life, is full of purple candles of suffering. Some days, weeks or years, are worse than others. Not just life, but these days before Christmas are full of stress. There is so much to do to prepare. There are Nutcracker performances for the girls to perform in, Christmas cards to write, presents to buy, wrap and send, festive meals to be planned, and not enough time to do it all. It is not ideal for what I conceive as a blessed and peaceful Advent.

Yet, we have the rose candle of joy and rejoicing. Jesus, and Christmas, is almost here. Just like Mary we realize the time is so close now. Hooray! I can't wait until that moment when I see the eyes of my girls light up with excitement or watch B.B. scoot around and squeal in the midst of unwrapped gifts. I am so looking forward to Christmas Mass and singing the familiar carols as loudly as I can because everyone else is too. I am consumed (almost anyway) in joyful hope.

At least for the moment.

Mary still had the labor to go through, and we still have one more purple candle to light. Briefly we, like Mary, can rejoice, but there remains a lot to do, a lot of stress and suffering, before the anticipated day arrives. And, there remains a lot to do, a lot of stress and suffering, before the anticipated day of Christ's second coming (or when I arrive in heaven, whatever comes first).

The Morning After...

2010-12-10T07:42:00.000-08:00

Update from yesterday: I was exhausted. Are you surprised? It was a raw blog post in the midst of sleep deprivation. I have wondered if I should delete it because it was so overly dramatic, but I've decided not to. It's there for you to "take what means something to you" or just toss it. Thanks for putting up with me and my misery. A misery which has strangely disappeared since getting some much needed rest.

I am happy today. I have moved on. I'll be a mess again another day.

Even before the "one thought floating through my mind," I had been praying about what I should do to tackle my life and set it in some sort of order. I am working on two things: 1. sleep, 2. feeding my family. Those are my priorities until I get things under control (if that is even possible).

An Angry Day

2010-12-09T16:13:00.000-08:00

As a stay-at-home- mom, there are no deadlines, instead there is no end. I wake up each day to the same. Life is too short to be stuck in a rut...I'm stuck in a rut.

It's the battles that are getting to me right now. The same old battles over food. It's always over food. The definition of insanity is to do the same thing over and over and expect a different result. When it comes to feeding my family, I am insane. My children hate all that I feed them. I hate all that I make for them (I also hate the word hate).

...anyway...

The battle over food begins with me. It always does. I try to blame my children. Yes, they are picky, but if I were more concerned with meeting their needs and less concerned about hating the preparation, maybe things would go more smoothly. Maybe, if I would set my mind and heart to the task, the task of feeding my family, maybe I would not react personally to their complaints.

Today, among other things, my daughter and I were fighting over food again. I had a sinus headache. The house was a mess (still is), the baby was fussing to go to bed and I broke down. I started to cry and to raise my voice, not at my child, but at God. I locked myself in the bedroom and sobbed. Why would He give me this job when I am so bad at it? Why, when I hate to cook and I am not self-motivated unless there is ample appreciation for all I do (I blame feel-good education)? Why do I still have to do all this when I feel so crappy?

The sky was dark the rain slammed down and the wind threw the last leaves from the trees at the ground. It was an angry day.

The only thing that went through my mind while I shook my fist at my miserable existence was, "focus on feeding your family." Focus on feeding my family. Just that. The one thing I hate the most. I plodded into the kitchen chopped up some fruit and cheese, added toothpicks to make it fun, and slid it in front of Little Bear. She ate it, and the day marches on.

I'm not sure how to tie this post together. I can only hold on to hope that I will get out of this rut...someday...

Is it enough?

2010-12-08T09:55:00.000-08:00

Bowe Bergdahl in captivity since June 2009

Talk about lonely.
      Talk about suffering.
This is a picture of a man,
      a son,
           whose dignity has been stripped from him,
                 by no fault of his own.
He is nothing.
A ghost of himself.

Is the love of his family--hoping, praying, waiting for him to come home, enough?

Lord, we hope, pray, and wait for you to come.
       Please hurry.

O come, O come, Emmanuel (Jesus),

and ransom captive Israel (us),

who roams in lonely exile here

until the Son of God appear.

Advent: "coming"

(click on the image to read the full story of this recent development in Bowe's life)

First Loves

2010-12-06T21:40:00.000-08:00

Today I was able to get a little break from my children. I was all alone in a warm, quiet room. It would have been a little nicer if the room could have been dark instead of that blaring fluorescent light that made my massive sinus headache even worse. You see, my much needed break was in the local walk-in clinic. I found out that I do not have a sinus infection, but just a plain old sinus headache. Good news, I guess.

On the way to the clinic, alone in my minivan, I got that longing feeling. A deep wish that I had someone to take care of me. I imagined that it might be my mom, but it's just not the same now that I'm in my thirties and have children of my own. I remember when her love was enough and in her embrace, my world was right. Then I thought it ought to be my husband, but again not quite what I was needing. A hug from him, at one point in our relationship, was all I needed. That love, although still important to me, was not really what I was longing for today.

Finally, I imagined being in the quiet, consoling arms of my mother in Heaven, and then in Christ's warm, strong, safe, embrace. Immediately I knew what I was really longing for. My heart and soul pines for that moment when everything is okay and I am taken care of. These first earthly loves of mine, my parents, my husband, my friends and even my children, are glimpses into the love that I will one day enter into completely.

Although being sick is no fun, it did give me a much needed break. The short time I had in the van, in the clinic and in my bed was enough for me to reflect on the meaning of this life I am living. I am more aware today that the love I give my children now is their first example of the Love there is for them in Heaven. Just as my mother's love was for me. This headache, as awful as it was, was worth that revelation. This little suffering managed to nudge me along the way to the Love that is waiting for me and already with me.

7 Quick Takes Friday (vol. 8)

2010-12-03T16:09:00.000-08:00

Click on the image above to go to Conversion Diary

~1~

Just now (3:00 PM) I realized it is Friday. I mean I knew it all day, but I just realized it. It has been a long week. It will be a long month. It bugs me how December ends up like that. It's the month when I really want to be reflecting and waiting and anticipating the real meaning of Christmas. Instead I'm in a haze from all that is going on. You know, Jesus died at 3PM on a Friday...I think there is something to ponder here...

~2~

Even though I am begrudging the fact that Christmas is being squeezed out of CHRIST-MAS, I am still doing some more decorating. My husband and I hung the wreath outside the house today. However, I did something fun to it! Instead of a boring green wreath, I added some red, fake flowers and holly and then sprayed it with fake snow. Lastly, I put a Santa plaque in the center (it says Holly Jolly Christmas). I am so proud of myself.

My inspiration BHG...maybe I should get some more fake poinsettias...

~3~

To continue with this theme of holiday irritation, it always gets me irked when I can hardly keep up with the the household tasks and then I have to add Christmas on top of it all. We have a certain amount of minutes in day. May I ask the Keeper of Time where I may buy some more minutes? It seems I can buy almost anything to complicate and clutter my life, but where can I buy some more minutes for my day? I guess I'll just steal some minutes off of my sleep time...that always works well...just ask my family.

~4~

Check out this picture. Look very carefully...do you notice anything...it's in the basket?

Do you give up? It is a basket of Grasshopper's clothes. I found them all in her room in places they did not belong. Some were in the right place but dirty. When I discovered this for the zillionth time I asked myself, "what can I do to stop this" instead of the usual harping, yelling and huffing. So, I gathered all the clothes up, washed the dirty ones and folded them in this basket. I now charge Grasshopper a quarter for each item of clothing she wants back. In the end, this may end up being more work for me, but maybe, just maybe, Grasshopper will think twice before littering her room with her clothes when there is a perfectly nice dresser to store them in. I hope there are some she never buys back and I can remove them from the house.

~5~

It's the time of year when more toys, clothes and other items to manage, dust, and keep, come marching through the door with great gusto, fanfare and glitz. Then, after they dull a bit, they are shoved, pushed and crammed into rooms and storage places that are already full. So comes my thoughts about decluttering for Christmas. I had great idea last night when I was trying to sleep and my concern over all that had to be done kept me awake (and that's not what I meant by stealing minutes from my sleep time). I may try to do this if I can get my act together in time. It is very difficult for my girls to get rid of anything so I thought I could set up a store and everything is priced by size. The goal will be to get rid of 25% of the stuff and so I will give enough "money" for each child to buy 75% of their stuff back. The leftovers will be whisked out of the house to leave room for what is to come. I'll let you know if this works.

~6~

December 3, 2010

Dear Keeper of Time,

See the above idea? I really like that idea along with the thousands of other ideas that float through my mind each day. I really want to accomplish something instead of nothing this year. Will you please help me? Maybe instead of selling me more time, you could just slow time down or even add a day or two before the 25th (we won't tell the kids). Please have pity on me, a poor mother of three.

Sincerely,

Holly

~7~

Even though I'm seeking more time in my day, I did discover a great new time waster: Etsy.com. I love this shopping site now. I bought some cool stuff already (PayPal really makes things easy). Maybe, if I can stop myself from browsing for too long, I will save some shopping time this year on this site. The only drawback I'm finding from browsing the sellers and their neat-o things they make and sell is that my blog is starting to seem kind of boring. I think in January I may make some changes in its look. Any suggestions?

Have a blessed second week of Advent and my you have all the time you need to accomplish all that you need to accomplish. Either that or take some of the extra off your plate (hey, now that's an idea even I might be able to accomplish).

Impatience vs. Irritation

2010-12-01T12:24:00.000-08:00

The following is an excerpt from the Catholic Heritage Curriculum newsletter. I found the reflection helpful when dealing with impatience with my children and myself...

~~~~~

"Have patience with all things, but chiefly have patience with yourself. Do not lose courage in considering your own imperfections, but instantly set about remedying them--every day begin the task anew."

--St. Francis de Sales

Dear Friends,

In our last survey, a commonly expressed concern was lack of patience. Some worried about their lack of patience with their children, and some expressed feelings of defeat at their own imperfections.

In this Advent-tide, as we wait patiently for the coming of the Infant King, let us examine different kinds of patience.

The first is one of joyful hope, waiting patiently and with joy for an upcoming event that we know to be good.

The second type of patience is one with less certainty of a perfectly joyful outcome, but nevertheless hopeful. In homeschooling, an example might be the day to day struggles that a child experiences while learning a subject. As adults, we know that countless repetitions are needed to master some skills; we know that, in time, John will learn. (Someone once said that "To teach John Latin, one must not only know Latin, but must also know and love John.") So with praise and encouragement for every effort, we patiently continue to teach, not looking at the gains of a week or a day and growing discouraged, but looking back over the months and years to rejoice in the very real progress that has occurred.

Then there is the "impatience" that is actually not impatience at all! Rather, it is irritation incorrectly labeled as impatience: irritation directed at our children when they knowingly and willingly do poor work or act out, when we know without a doubt that they know better.

CLICK HERE to read more.

Prayer for Peace

2010-11-28T22:17:00.000-08:00

We ate tacos tonight for dinner. Earlier I had discovered the wonderful world of Etsy and had been lost on the computer for a while so dinner was late. Time was crunching up on me and my husband was on the way home. I tried to enlist the girls for help with clean-up, but they disappeared into their bedrooms and make-believe. Grasshopper was twirling around her room with our Christmas nutcracker and Little Bear was babbling a conversation with her toy Nativity figures.

I rushed back and forth from the table to the sink with dishes and proceeded to drop the bowl of taco meat. Crumbled hamburger slid across the kitchen adding to the already sweep deprived floor. As I knocked a chunk of the meat off my sock, I said aloud, "it's true." Grasshopper immediately popped her head in the kitchen and asked, "what's true?"

I took a breath and began to tell her my thoughts but first asked her if she really wanted to know. She said she did and so I told her that I had just read somewhere that when a person prays, it helps that person's life to line up and run more smoothly. It puts a person in proper balance (body, mind and spirit). When a person is not praying and not seeking the will of God, things get out of whack. Today, and these last few days, have been like that for me. I've slacked on my prayer and my life is kind of a wreck. Dropping the hamburger was just one more mishap in a line of many.

Grasshopper was quiet for a moment and then told me she had just said silent a prayer for me and flitted back to her room with her nutcracker and I went back to sweeping up taco meat.

In prayer there is peace. Even physical peace. Yes, hamburger still gets spilled, but somehow the things that go wrong when I am in a prayerful state don't feel so much like erratic flies buzzing in my ears. Instead, those accidents and blunders float in and out of my day without disturbing my inner life and I think there are actually fewer accidents because I'm not frantically trying to swat away the disturbances.

I think I'll return to prayer. It's time to reconnect with my Father in Heaven...hallowed be His name.

And it Begins

2010-11-28T11:59:00.000-08:00

ADVENT!

Today is the first Sunday of this wonderful, hopeful, expectant season. The liturgical colors turn from green to purple and we all turn our minds and hearts toward the coming of our Savior. We remember His coming as a tiny baby in a stable surrounded by animals and hay and wait anxiously to celebrate that day, His birthday, again. We also take these four weeks before Christmas to examine and prepare our hearts again for the second coming of our Lord. It's not that we are not always doing this, but that we try to pay more attention this time of year.

Even though I am behind in my planning this year, it seems I've done this enough times that it's just coming together for me. In fact, this may be the first year that I've gotten the Advent decorations up on time! Of our two Christmas bins, one is labeled "Advent" so that box has been opened and much of the contents have made their way into Grasshopper's room already. I'll have to venture in there to take back what belongs in the living areas! Our Advent wreath, with its three purple candles and one rose candle, is set up on our prayer shelf and our Nativity (with the baby Jesus hidden until Christmas Eve) is on display as well.

I've also gotten a chunk of our Christmas shopping done. On Friday while the stores were full of crazed shoppers, I got online and bought all the gifts that must be sent in the mail. Then, last night, after my husband came home from work, I ventured into town for some gathering of supplies including stocking stuffers and Christmas dresses because I'm always rushing just before Christmas for these items. I also picked up ornaments for the kids and one family ornament. I do this every year. Each ornament is labeled with the year and the child's initials so that one day they can be handed on to the child they belong to. This year our family ornament is an Oregon Ducks snowman to remember this great football season!

Here is what I still need to do:

write and send Christmas letter
plan Christmas Eve dinner
buy gifts for children (only four gifts per child plus one Santa gift...are you reading this my dear husband?)
buy gifts for childrens' teachers
put up Christmas tree and lights

Okay, so I still have a lot to do. I'm just happy that time has made it all a little easier. It is not so overwhelming and maybe even a little bit fun. I really hope that I'll be able to find some time for reflection and prayer this year instead of rushing around with the masses of frenzied, "stuff"-crazed people.

And the Winner is...

2010-11-26T07:49:00.000-08:00

Kathleen!

You are the winner of the bloggy giveaway. Please send me an email at scatteringagates{at}yahoo{dot}com with your address and I'll send it out right away.

I'm sure everyone is out today getting great deals while I'm home today feeling sorry for myself. I had a wonderful Thanksgiving with a visit from my parents and a wonderful dinner with friends. My husband was working and back to work this morning. So, I sit in the chill of the morning after and feel let down.

It does make me happy to give Kathleen this book, though. And yes, that was a sneaky way for me to get comments on my blog. Thanks Kathleen and Mikki for commenting...both of you....all two of you...hahaha. I think I have shy readers.

Thanksgiving...and stuff

2010-11-25T08:49:00.000-08:00

Happy Thanksgiving!

We drove home from our family visit in Eastern Oregon last night. The roads were as bad as we've ever seen them. It was kind of a nightmare of a trip but the kids were pretty good. I think they were exhausted from playing in the snow with all their cousins at Grandma and Grandpa's house.

We had our Thanksgiving dinner last Saturday. Today, Thanksgiving day, I've moved the couch up for the girls and I to watch The Chronicles of Narnia in preparation for the third movie coming out next month. We will try to have a family outing to the "picture show" as my mother-in-law (and my husband) call it!

This Sunday marks the first Sunday of Advent. I've looked over my calendar and we are headed for a busy month. I may simplify things in order to enjoy and embrace the season (my favorite season of all). My hope is to reduce the number of gifts and shopping. Although I love to buy presents, it seems sillier and sillier every year to buy all this stuff and then find a place to put it.

Now I must go find places to put all the stuff we have brought home. My kitchen and living room are crowded from our luggage. I'd rather be eating turkey and pumpkin pie again.

7 Quick Takes Friday (vol. 7)

2010-11-19T12:14:00.000-08:00

Click on the image above to go to Conversion Diary

~1~

Our kitchen really, really, really is complete...well, almost. Anyway, I thought you may like to see a picture of our new floor. I really like it especially because I can't see any dirt on it and it is a sort of matte finish so I don't have to keep it shiny. We used a flooring called Allure from Home Depot. It was fairly easy to install (if you are not a perfectionist). My husband had a good lesson in mediocrity. It did not make his perfectionist nature very happy. I just went to bed to avoid the shrapnel of his bullets of frustration. He's happy now that it is done, thankfully.

~2~

Ahhh....Brandon Flowers. We drove, we watched, we sang, we danced, we returned by 2 AM.

It was a small venue so we could see everything including his goofy guitar player and silly back up singers. They were easy to ignore compared to the wonderfulness oozing out of Brandon. He's so great. We are dreaming of our next trip to see his band in Las Vegas. Wouldn't that be great? I wonder if we could be classified as "groupie" yet? Probably not. Sometimes I dream of walking out the door, leaving this life to follow The Killers like some followed the Grateful Dead...not really.

~3~

In a couple hours I will be walking out the door into our packed sage green mini van. We are off to Eastern Oregon for Thanksgiving. Holidays with my husband's family are never dull. He has four siblings who all live very near to his parents (my husband is the only escapee so far) and they all have children. The front door is always opening and closing as new people trample in and out. I'm looking forward to the time away and the mundane of my little home.

~4~

As for the mundane of the nine hour car trip, I'm not really looking forward to that. Most parents I know stock the car with a multitude of toys, coloring books, crayons, food, and DVDs. Not me. I have found the more stuff we have in the car to entertain the kids, the more fights that break out. Not only that, something always falls out of reach and and then we are all scrambling to find whatever it is (like a barbie shoe, for instance) before someone has a mental breakdown. As for the DVD player, I think it's good for kids to be bored and look out the window at the scenery. I did it, so can they (and I'm better for it...I think).

~5~

I may not like the toys or DVDs, but I do like to bring along music and stories for the kids to listen to. I subscribe to a podcast through itunes called Storynory. There is also a website called Stroynory.com. The girls love the stories read by a British story teller named Natasha. Most of the audio stories are classics and fables, but there are also some original stories about a frog prince named Bertie and some of his pond friends

~6~

I've also stored some music on our ipod for the trip. Elizabeth Mitchel is, by far, my favorite childrens' music artist. She has a number of CDs out, my favorite being Little Bird. CLICK HERE to listen to some of this CD on Amazon.

~6~

My second favorite children's music singer is Linda Yapp. She was Grasshopper's pre-school teacher and has made at least three children's CDs. I own her CD titled For the Love of Hawaii that was nominated in 2008 for The Parent's Choice Award. CLICK HERE to listen to some of Linda's songs.

~7~

Last, but not least, a bloggy giveaway! That's right. I'm giving away a book called Bedtime Blessings: 100 Bedtime Stories & Activities for Blessing Your Child. It is the second volume published by Focus on the Family and written by John Trent. It is a sweet little book and all you have to do to get it is enter a comment, any comment, on this post. I will draw names and announce the winner next Friday. If you are the winner all you'll need to do is send me an email with your address (see the side bar) and I will send the book to you for free. Sound fun? Then comment....I'm waiting anxiously.

Thanks for reading. Have a great weekend!

Beyond Deflated

2010-11-17T10:22:00.000-08:00

Happy days are hard to write about and I've been experiencing a few of them. I saw a quote the other day by Winston Churchill that said, "[i]f you're going through Hell, keep going." A month ago life felt horrible, terrible, and overwhelming. I thought parenting was going to kill me and I was deflated. It seemed like Hell. I had to go through it. I had to get beyond it. My mind, body and spirit had to adjust to the present state of my life and to the stages that my children were in.

My eight-year-old trying to get away with disrespecting me and being a super grump...
My three-year-old regressing and using babble and tantrums to communicate...
My eight-month-old beginning to scoot all over the house and discovering every piece of anything little by putting it in his mouth...

I have also been able to do some things other than be mom in the house with three kids.

My husband and I went to the Brandon Flowers' concert (and I didn't feel frumpy or awkward)...
I spent time at the hair salon enjoying my hair splurge without worrying about the kids...
I met a friend for coffee and discussed things other than parenting...

My life as a mom at home with small children is temporary. One day I will have all the time to myself that I could want or need. I try not to covet time without my children and embrace my life in the home, keeping my little family running. I have made deliberate choices not to do too much in order to keep peace here, right where I am. I reject the concept that moms need to do things for themselves every week or every day. It's silly to me. I do find my time when I need it and sometimes I don't. However, I don't want to spend my life wishing away this temporary existence that I have. In fact, I have found such reward in going through the hard times. I live them, lament them and trudge through them.

Life on the other side is brighter. I'm a little stronger and a little smarter and maybe even a little closer to Heaven.

Here is a prayer I keep over my kitchen sink to help me through each day:

Please dear Lord, increase my faith, hope and love. Work through me as I mother my family. Please help me to be confident in my mothering-- offering it all to you so that it will be sanctified.

Wait a Minute...

2010-11-15T10:37:00.000-08:00

People around the web world are beginning to talk about Christmas...ahhhhh. It's almost Thanksgiving and I have barely given that any thought. The time is passing me by too quickly. Last year (and years before) I at least made an attempt to plan for the holidays. This year, I'm just plain not.

I did run into a website that looked like it might be interesting and helpful during the busy Advent/Christmas season called Simple Mom written by a gal named Tsh (pronounced "Tish"). Here is a link to her post titled 12 Weeks to a Peaceful Christmas (Yikes! We are already at 6 weeks to Christmas).

I think it's time to remind myself that we all have the same amount of minutes in a day. It's what I choose to do with those minutes that makes up who I am. As long as I am not a complete blob for no good reason, than I'm doing okay.

7 Quick Takes Friday (vol. 6)

2010-11-12T11:44:00.000-08:00

Click on the image above to go to Conversion Diary

~1~

It has been a long, long, week as I and my family have been suffering in sickness. I don't normally avoid people when I am sick or avoid those who are sick. I'm not like a friend of mine who once she discovers someone around her is sick, she promptly trots off to her car to grab her hand sanitizer. However, this illness has been the exception. I do not want to pass it on to anyone. It's a doozy.

~2~

Meanwhile, my dear husband replaced our kitchen floor. Although I am happy to have a new floor, I was not exactly happy about how he went about completing the task. You know how it is when your spouse stays up until 4AM putting in a new floor. He sleeps in the next day, until he can rouse himself up to complete the task. At the same time, you drag around your illness-stricken body, trying to console your baby's illness-stricken body and, on top of it all, make lunch for your three-year-old out of the fridge that's been moved to the hallway. However, now that it's done, I'm not complaining.

~3~

I recently discovered a teaching that the Catholic Church holds that I had never heard of. It is called The Principle of Subsidiarity. It is, as stated at CatholicCulture.org, the principle that "holds that human affairs are best handled at the lowest possible level, closest to the affected persons." Ah ha! I knew there had to be some kind of teaching about this. My liberal Catholic friends, good hearted as they are, vote in program, after program, after government program, all under the shield of the Social Doctrine of the Church. I can understand voting this way because, to the caring heart, it sounds good. I, on the other hand, have always tried to state my conservative case for smaller government because a smaller government is closer to the people who actually need the help. I'd be much more likely to vote for some program to help the poor if it were administered by my city, county or maybe state. I hesitate, no I put my foot down, at a federal program and now I have a principle of the Church to back what I know to be true! That makes me so happy! Funny how my liberal Catholic university education never taught me about subsidiarity (and I was a theology major).

~4~

That reminds me of something that happened to me while in college oh-so-many-years ago that illustrates my life as a conservative Catholic Christian to this day. In philosophy class, a required core class, the professor was discussing the problem of suffering and why God (if there is a God) would allow it. I can't remember all the details, but I remember stating that God sees things with the eyes of eternity and we may not understand and it may seem bad to us, but that God's perspective is so much bigger than ours. After class, I packed up my purple backpack with my Jesus fish pinned prominently next to my button supporting the basketball team and in the student center a handsome guy from this class approached me. He was very lively in introducing himself and he asked me if I was a Christian. I can still picture his expectant face. I stood up straighter and said "yes" a little too enthusiastically. I was excited too. He then asked me what church I go to. I said, with the same exuberance but a little forced because I instantly knew by his question where this was going, "to the Catholic church, up in the student chapel." His face dropped. He mumbled something else and was out of my life forever. He was not a Catholic and disappointed that I was not a "real" Christian (I assume).

I could tell you story after story in my life that is similar to this one and I'm not even sure why I wrote this one here today...moving on...

~5~

Tomorrow is the big date. My husband and I are going to see Brandon Flowers! It will be so nice to get away for an evening. Of course, my hubby must wake up bright and early the next day to go back to work, so we'll be rushing home. The concert doesn't even start until 9 PM. I hope I can stay awake. Now where are my ear plugs.

~6~

The last time we went to a concert with The Killers, I felt so frumpy and outdated. Truth be told, I feel kind of out of style every time I leave the house. Now it's getting worse. A very dear friend of mine sells vintage clothing online (Sweet Bee Finds...if you're interested). Her influence is beginning to rub off on me, but not in the clothing department. Instead, I have been searching out vintage children's books. The other day at the church bazaar, I picked up a few including a very cute one title Millions of Cats by Wanda Gag (1928).

The book is actually newer than that, but I'm more interested in vintage content than vintage quality. Gag's artwork reminds me a little of Elsa Beskow who's books I love and, funny thing, Sweet Bee introduced me to Beskow a few years ago..hmm...it is fascinating how humans influence each other...there's a blog post in this somewhere...

~7~

I'm also reading a darling story from the library to my kids called Happy Jack by Thornton W. Burgess (1918). My dad read his books when he was a little boy and I own one of my dad's books from way back then (he just turned 70 on November 1st). They are great stories and my girls seem to love them as well.

Forgive me if this post was a little long and rambled a bit. Thanks for reading anyway!

Soggy Leaves and Snotty Noses

2010-11-10T09:31:00.000-08:00

Looking out my window I see a gray sky, trees drooping with wetness and leaves plastered to the ground from last night's down pour. The once sprightly birds preparing to migrate have disappeared and in their place are the swooping black birds with their obnoxious squawks for attention. I love fall but when fall turns to this drudgery, I heave a heavy sigh and try to muster up the strength to make it through the day.

Not only are the trees drooping with wetness, but so are we. All of us have been sick with an obnoxious squawking cold. It's a nasty one. The coughs are deep, the snot is unceasing and fevers accompany us in the night. It's been especially sad for B.B. since this is his first real sickness in his whole life. He wakes up with his eyes plastered shut, his nose clogged and barks with a pathetic cough.

I've been observing, since we've all been sick, how each of us responds to sickness. My husband powers through. He doses up on Day Quil and pounds through his days until he crashes and no amount of disturbance will wake him. I, on the other hand, wimp out. I sit on the couch and bemoan my sickness, walk around as if I might fall over and practically demand sympathy. My oldest daughter, who won't sleep unless it is night, just sits very still staring hollow eyed (she has the best immune system so she's never down for long). Little Bear, at her three years, is attacked by colds. Her eyes, nose and mouth all become very watery and gooey. She's a pretty happy sick and likes to snuggle and be close, although her moods can turn quickly. It seems that B.B. is like a Weeble Wobble. He will not relax. He'll put his head down for a second only to pop up to look at something. He is, by far, the most vocal about how bad he feels. It's hard to console him and I miss his happy self.

Glancing outside again I see that the sun has momentarily broken through the uncaring gray and a little leftover bird just tittered up and over the neighbor's house. It will be nice to get beyond this season of soggy leaves and snotty noses. As always, there is hope for better days.

An Indispensable Tool

2010-11-07T11:30:00.000-08:00

I love my cheese slicer. It is, by far, the most used utensil in my kitchen. My children would not be alive if it weren't for my cheese slicer because they love quesadillas. I guess I could cut the cheese with a knife or just bite or break pieces off, but the cheese slicer makes it so much easier.

It's kind of like the Catholic Church. As a Catholic, I've been questioned about the "extra" stuff we have like Saints, Sacraments and Liturgy (public worship). It doesn't make sense to my Christian brothers and sisters who just need the Bible and some time with it in prayer. However, I believe my Church, that Jesus established, gives me glorious tools for strengthening my relationship and walk with God. The Bible, in fact, is one of the indispensable tools of the Church to help me on my journey to heaven and I need it too..without question.

Yes, I could make quesadillas without a cheese slicer, but it's so much easier to use this handy tool. It's the same with my personal walk with Christ. Yes, I could do it without all the tools of the Catholic Church, but the tools are there for me to use to help me along the way.

7 Quick Takes Friday (vol. 5)

2010-11-04T22:15:00.000-07:00

Click on the image above to go to Conversion Diary

~1~

There is hope for me and my kitchen misadventures. By the fourth dinner and my second week using the menus provided by Michelle at Make 5 Dinners in 1 Hour, I'm sold. Last night I tentatively set the spaghetti and meatballs down on the table and heard the usual: "eeww", "gross." But then, a miracle, my girls ate it and liked it. Not only that, they ate most of the other meals of the week as well. This Michelle has got something here. I enjoy her almost daily blog posts and really like the concept of preparing all the meals in one hour (plus one more for Holly). Not only that, she admits to shopping at Walmart, as do I, and her meals are tasty without a lot of strange ingredients. One of my goals last year after Christmas was to make sure I planned simple meals around the big holiday meals. Michelle has done all my planning and now I just have to print the menus and get to work.

~2~

If there is any way I can accomplish my dream parenting with less work, I'm all for it. Effortlessly providing meals is one of those things I always want to do but have scraped and scrapped to do it. I feel almost like I'm cheating when I use another person's menu. It is the same with finding and reading great books to my children. For some reason I think I should research, plan and discover themes and books for my kids. Today, however, I did something else. Bethany, at The Apple Cider Mill posted her November learning baskets with her book lists. I printed them out and then went to my library's website and reserved all the books. Now I just have to wait while someone else (who gets paid) finds all my books and then I'll pick them up, divide them up like Bethany and, tada, I have learning baskets like the mother I've always wanted to be.

~3~

For some reason it takes me years to figure out how to do something the easy way. I can hear a lot of you thinking as you read number 1 and 2, "um...duh, Holly. I could have told you that a long time ago." I spend a lot of time lamenting my problems and then being paralyzed by them. A while back I was complaining that I am the kind of person that cannot stay in my house for too many days in row but that every time I'd leave, I would worry that my kids would get hungry while we are out. It stopped me from doing as much out of the house as I wanted to. My friend told me that she always keeps a stash of packaged food and juice boxes in the car just for that reason. I had not thought of that. Now I always have food in the car (for me as well) and we are ready to go. It just took my friend's suggestion to get my brain out of its quagmire.

~4~

The quagmire in Grasshopper's room is vanishing as well thanks to my new chore chart and allowance system. I am very proud of this chart. It hangs on Grasshopper's door with my stickers close by.

Here is my creation (feel free to copy it and that means less work for you):

(Click image for larger view)

Each number represents that amount of change. Her week of chores adds up to $10. The extra chores can be done whenever I ask her to do them not necessarily on the day they fall under.

The "deductions" section I am especially proud of because there are times when some behavior modification is needed and this works wonderfully. Grasshopper does not like to lose a cent. I will be creating a similar chart for Little Bear soon. Maybe I'll make one for B.B. too. Every time he sleeps through the night, I'll give him a sticker. I'm sure that will work!

~5~

Wow! If you've read 1 through 4 you may assume this week is going a lot better than last week. Yes and no. All of us have been sick. Thankfully only fevers, tiredness and coughs, but draining all the same. My husband, the nurse that he is, has us well stocked in fever reducers. In fact, last year when H1N1 was all the rage, we practically bought out Walmart's Tylenol and Ibuprofen section for fear (his not mine) that there would be a run on the pharmacies when people were dying from the Swine Flu. Maybe when inflation hits, our investment will pay off and we can charge a week's worth of beans and rice for a bottle of pain relief.

~6~

I'm not sure if you caught that. I said, when inflation hits. I guess I'm a bit of a pessimist, but I think we're headed for some tough times and the Republican tsunami in congress and across the United States was a nice step in the right direction, but we have a long way to go. After the elections I have more hope and confidence in the American people. I cannot say the same about politicians. That's all I have to say about that.

~7~

I'm looking forward to this next week. My husband has his six days off and did not take any overtime. I'm sure he has a list of chores he wants to get through, but I plan on sleeping in at least one of those days. Sleep. I miss sleep. I need sleep. I'd pay someone a week's worth of rice and beans plus a bottle of Tylenol and Ibuprofen for the chance to catch up on sleep.

The Battle Belongs to Our God

2010-11-02T13:54:00.000-07:00

Today is election day. A mid-term election at that, and I'm as interested and excited as I am during a presidential election. In 1994 we had a pretty dramatic change in congress in opposition to Clinton and it looks like we're headed for a possible repeat of that year (maybe even more dramatic). Even then they were floating the idea of national health care, but We the People woke up and pushed back. Then, it seems, we all went back to sleep. We expected and trusted that the Republicans would take care of things and get our great nation back on track. They said they believed in giving states their rights and reducing spending and thus the size of the Federal government but somehow that did not happen.

I was happy when George W. Bush was elected twice and saddened by the incessant railings against his presidency and him personally. However, by the end of his two terms, I too was fed up. Why, oh why, did he have to increase government with No Child Left Behind and other government programs and, of all things, say, "I've abandoned free-market principles to save the free-market system." Then, in the midst of a financial melt-down, like that of the Great Depression according to Obama, we elected and handed the reigns over to a government that believes in itself above the will and wishes of the people.

The picture above is titled Prayer at Valley Forge. It was a picture that showed up when I was searching for images of American Exceptionalism. Admittedly, I am a little illiterate of American History (due to my fantastic public education...haha) and this story of Valley Forge was not immediately available to my memory. So I looked it up. Here is the story in brief in case you are unaware as well:

• The Story of Valley Forge •

by Ron Avery

The images are heartrending, dramatic and so powerful that they are embedded in the nation's historical consciousness:

Bloody footprints in the snow left by bootless men. Near naked soldiers wrapped in thin blankets huddled around a smoky fire of green wood. The plaintive chant from the starving: "We want meat! We want meat!"

These are the indelible images of suffering and endurance associated with Valley Forge in the winter of 1777-78.

"An army of skeletons appeared before our eyes naked, starved, sick and discouraged," wrote New York's Gouverneur Morris of the Continental Congress.

The Marquis de Lafayette wrote: "The unfortunate soldiers were in want of everything; they had neither coats nor hats, nor shirts, nor shoes. Their feet and their legs froze until they were black, and it was often necessary to amputate them."

A bitter George Washington — whose first concern was always his soldiers — would accuse the Congress of "little feeling for the naked and distressed soldiers. I feel superabundantly for them, and from my soul pity those miseries, which it is neither in my power to relieve or prevent."

The suffering and sacrifices of the American soldiers at Valley Forge are familiar, iconic images, but there is another side of the picture. Valley Forge was where a new, confident, professional American army was born.

Three months of shortage and hardship were followed by three months of relative abundance that led to wonderful changes in the morale and fighting capabilities of the Continental Army.

France would enter the war on the side of the new nation. Valuable foreign volunteers and fresh replacements would trickle into camp.

Most important, it was at Valley Forge that a vigorous, systematic training regime transformed ragged amateur troops into a confident 18th century military organization capable of beating the Red Coats in the open field of battle.

This story from our history points out how we, Americans, even from the most helpless and hopeless circumstances, seem to rise up and out of the depths. We are exceptional that way. However, what is not noted in this story is noted quite evidently in the picture above. Our exceptionalism comes from believing so strongly in our rights as given to us by our Creator. A belief placed at the very top of our Constitution as a flashing neon reminder that our equality is not doled out by our government.

I am not advocating that all Americans become Christians. I do, however, believe it is our Christian foundation and identity that has pushed our nation into greatness and if we don't hold strongly to those Judeo-Christian values, our great nation will cease to be so great.

With this election I hope that we finally gather ourselves together, as Washington's embattled troops at Valley Forge, and fight to end this march toward a godless tyranny (yes, I think it could get to be that bad...for our children or our children's children anyway...I hope you voted today).

CLICK HERE for more history of Valley Forge.

Hilarious Song (to a Catholic gal anyway)!

2010-11-01T13:56:00.000-07:00

7 Quick Takes Friday (vol. 4)

2010-10-28T22:02:00.000-07:00

Click on the image above to go to Conversion Diary

--1--

No matter what, cooking takes more time and energy than I like to give to the task. Armed with my shopping list provided by Michelle at Make 5 Dinners in 1 Hour, I rushed around last night trying to find the groceries. As multiple items on my oh-so-organized-list decided to hide from me in the store, my stress levels rose...and that was just the start. I did manage to find most of the important ingredients and so my fridge was stocked by the end of the rushed shopping trip. Today, even as I wished I did not have to do it, I unloaded the fridge, turned on some interesting talk radio, and diligently worked through the menu. It took me two hours. Am I really so slow? Admittedly, I was interrupted by the baby choking on a sticker, Little Bear requesting chocolate milk (oh, and some fever reducing meds...she's sick) and Grasshopper demonstrating her ballet moves, but really? Can't I do it in one hour like everybody else? I'll keep trying.

--2--

I'm also trying to keep up a chore list and allowance for Grasshopper. The other day she informed me that I had not paid her for last week. I told her I didn't think she ought to get money for doing nothing. It's not really her fault, it is my inability to maintain any kind of routine besides getting up in the morning and going to bed at night. I am well aware that consistency is important in parenting, and wonder if being consistently inconsistent will suffice.

--3--

Another constant in my life is my constant tiredness...I know, blah, blah, blah, you've heard this all before...but I just want to file a complaint to someone about how tired I am. Yes, I'm still waking up with the baby at night, so that is contributing to my lack of umph. Not only that, my allergies are bothering me and at this moment I cannot hear through my right ear. I have tried tipping upside down, taking allergy meds and digging with Q-tips. I'm still deaf. My poor children have learned to yell for me to hear them and my husband repeats himself without me asking any more (just kidding).

--4--

Okay, so since I'm on the same old topics, we are still drowning in toys. Now, we have even more because of the baby toys. Sometimes I wonder if they are multiplying. Lately, I've given up. Little Bear's room is completely unorganized and a mess. I slide the toys out of the way with my feet to make a path to her bed each night. How pathetic is that?

--5--

I'll have to get that room in order by Tuesday because we are planning to have a little party on election night. We have some good friends who have become quite politically active since the 2008 election. In fact, these are the people I stood on the street corner with protesting the health care bill which was a giant step for me in my political life, at least on the "left coast." These are two of a handful of people in this area that we know that will actually admit to being conservative. Most hide their true identity in social situations. In this left leaning political town, we'll even go so far as to protect one another's conservative political leanings in conversations for mere social survival. No one wants to be an outcast like Juan Williams. That's why standing on the streat corner was a very big deal for me. I had to resist the urge to hide behind the sign.

--6--

That reminds me of another big step in my political life, the day my Republican friend outed me at a party. I was quietly enjoying myself at a Halloween party last year when my friend across the room caught my attention. I couldn't believe she was actually telling someone that she was a Republican. I watched curiously, admiring her for her fearlessness, but then she started to explain that she was the only Republican she knew, "except for Holly" and proceeded to point at me across a roomful of mostly strangers (and by default liberals). I tried, but failed, to hide. Since then, we are the joke at every party. The good thing about it is that we are able to articulate our view and we all get a good laugh. I'm glad she outed me now and it made me realize how silly I was to fear what others might think about my conservative viewpoint. This is still a free country.

--7--

We will be at the same Halloween party this year. I'm not a big fan of Halloween, but it was a lot of fun last year. I'd prefer to celebrate All Saints Day and All Souls Day, but I do like the candy. This year Grasshopper is a Renaissance Period Girl and Little Bear is still undecided (cat, bear, baby or beautiful dancer). I wanted her to be Little Red Riding Hood and the baby could be The Big Bad Wolf. I was even thinking of being the grandma. I guess not this year so now I still have to come up with a costume for the baby.

...which reminds me, I think I've come up with his blog name: B.B. (baby boy, big boy, boy boy...all things I call him). What do you think?

A Feast for the Eyes (and ears)

2010-10-28T10:41:00.000-07:00

Here is Brandon Flower's latest video from Flamingo...

CLICK HERE to see more of Brandon Flower's videos! Plus, they will be centered as they should be. My blog makes the vidoes off a bit.

Here is another video you might like about the biblical roots for a Catholic view of Mary (not by Brandon Flowers). If you are intrigued, you may want to click on the video to watch it on You Tube and see the entire video...I've got to get uncentered thing fixed...

Faithful Flurries

2010-10-27T09:35:00.000-07:00

Each year, as we travel to and from Bend for our family yurt trip, we are treated with the beauty and wonder of fall. I love to scan the woods as we drive through and let my eyes rest on the vibrant red and orange bushes or the yellowing ferns and underbrush. This year was especially enchanting when there was about a foot of snow over the pass and the reds and oranges, yellows and left over greens were peeking through the piles of freshly fallen snow. As we came down the mountain into the wet and familiar coastal climate, the changing leaves were gently falling out of the trees on top of the cars in front of us. It was as if the trees were dropping their leaves as a gift or a blessing on each car.

I can imagine those same leaves fluttering through an airy breeze, as autumn often brings. I've seen small clusters of leaves flying around parking lots or down my street. Sometimes plastic bags or candy wrappers get caught up in the flurry and sail quickly by. I am reminded of God's plan and purpose for my day and my life when I observe a blustery breeze passing by or around me. God has given me the ability to choose to step into His will and be whisked away, or I can choose to ignore the breeze. The chaos and clutter of my life sometimes prevents me from noticing that the wind is even blowing and I miss the opportunity to be swept into His mercy altogether. However, when I choose to step in and be gently fluttered away in God's breeze, I experience freedom, peace and awe in His wonderful works.

Photo by Mary Schwalm click here to view her blog.

Healing Wounds

2010-10-25T00:00:00.000-07:00

Previously published on February 19, 2009

The other day I cut my finger with my kitchen scissors. I didn't have to get stitches, but it was deep enough to take some time to heal. The healing is taking longer than I expected. With a band aide, my skin can't breathe. Then when I take the band aide off, the cut catches on things and that irritates it and delays the healing process even more. Basically, I'm just having to be careful with it until it heals completely.

When I've been hurt by someone or some situation, it's kind of like this cut on my finger. First of all, I need to recognize that I have been wounded and take measures to care for it. I then need to realize that things don't just heal because I put a band aide on them. In fact, the band aide can even slow things down. I also can't just leave the wound uncovered and let it be irritated over and over. Just like the cut on my finger, all I can do is be gentle with the things that hurt me. I have to give myself time. I know that Jesus is doing the healing and so I need to be patient and careful with myself during the process. I must gently tend to the wound.

Still Waters Run Deep

2010-10-24T00:00:00.000-07:00

Previosly published a while ago...

I like a good discussion and argument. My family has always made room for healthy debate. However, I get tired of trying to defend what I believe about certain things when I just don’t know if what I’m defending is the truth or not. It’s hard to know these days with the explosion of information available to us. We used to trust the nightly news or just turn to the good old encyclopedia. Now it just seems hard to get a straight answer. I have to make judgments about what is true or not based on my feelings or my own perception. Then I don’t know if I can trust my own interpretation. It’s crazy.

There is only one place in my head and heart that does not falter. It is my faith in Jesus. I believe with all my heart that He is God and that He died on the cross to connect us, once again, with our Father in Heaven. The Truth of Jesus Christ rests firmly and deeply in my soul. The whole world could fall away from me and it would still be there. It is my source of comfort, of strength, of hope and of all my love. To me, it is not a matter of debate or persuasion. It is the Truth.

7 Quick Takes Friday (vol. 3)

2010-10-21T22:16:00.000-07:00

Click on the image above to go to Conversion Diary

--1--

Our little family has been so busy. I should say, my husband has been busy. He has been working a lot at his real job and then coming home to paint the house and do various other projects on the house before the weather turns (it started raining this evening and we're in for our first winter storm). Meanwhile, while he's been working, I've been surviving. I remember learning the Dead Man's Float for water survival. First you fill up your lungs with air, then rest on the water with feet and hands dangling until you need a breath. The next step is to blow air out, lift your head out of the water and take the next deep breath. I've been practicing the Dead Mommy's Float for the last few days. I keep taking deep breaths and trying to remain calm but, truth be told, I want out of the water. I'm ready to be rescued. However, not by Prince Charming this time. I know how that works out. No, instead of a knight in shining armor, I need someone armed with glass cleaner for my mirrors and windows. I also don't need to be swept off my feet, I need someone to sweep the floor.

--2--

Thankfully, we are taking a little vacation over the weekend. It's our 4th Annual "Yurt it Up" weekend in Bend, Oregon. We meet family over there, stay in yurts, and freeze. It's really just a cheap way for us to stay in Bend. We don't really camp. We eat out for most meals and spend time shopping. The yurts are just our home base. It should be fun.

--3--

It was fun to watch the Oregon Ducks tonight. My husband loves the ducks and so, by default, we all do. The Ducks are ranked #1 for the first time in their history. I got a lesson tonight on a fast offense vs. a large offense. The Ducks are smaller and fast. In order to call the plays they had some elaborate signs for the quarterback to read so that no time was wasted calling plays. They were a little creative, a little goofy and very large. I kept wondering how I could incorporate this fast offense with some signs to run our household more efficiently. It would be nice to yell less and get things done around here.

--4--

Did I mention I've been doing The Dead Mommy's Float? Maybe I could hold up a sign each time I come up for air.

--5--

Is it just me, or is this political season crazy? I can't believe what November 2nd is working up to be. For a long time I've been hoping for the sleeping giant of common sense to wake up. I think it's wide awake now. I just hope we're not too late. If you are not paying attention to the political jibber jabber, let me tell you, we are in for a wild ride. I don't think either side is going to back down easily and yes, there are definite sides. Sorry to all of those hoping for peace and tolerance. That won't fly in this political climate.

--6--

As for our climate, I am not looking forward to the rain. I'm already depressed just thinking about it. Usually by this point in the season, I'm ready for a change in the weather and I don't mind the rain. This year is different. Our summer was unusually cool. Not only that, with the cooler, wetter weather comes the added stress of Christmas. I remember my mom lamenting one August, "oh no, only four months until Christmas." We're down to 2 1/2 months already.

--7--

...deep breath...face in the water...relax your arms and legs...still waiting for my rescue...please bring baking supplies, holiday meal plans, shopping lists, and margarita mix.

Me, Me...Choose Me!

2010-10-19T22:37:00.000-07:00

Just before going to Mass the other day, I handed my daughter a little booklet called "My Mass Book" (not the one pictured, although I like the other two books I have by these authors). It was a nice little booklet to help her follow along during our hour of prayer and worship. Her response to the booklet was luke warm to say the least and she held it as if it were a dirty sock or something. I knew she would not take the book into Mass, but I had hope that she might. After Mass, I found the booklet neglected in the back of the van (at least it got that far).

I did not beg her to use it or reprimand her for not, instead I gave it to a friend of ours who is the same age as she is. This friend gleefully took it and I'm sure will have it in her hands the next time we see her at church. My daughter missed out on this little booklet by her own choosing.

It made me think about the gifts and opportunities God is giving me daily to move where He needs me, when He needs me. He has this complex and well thought out plan for the entire world and I have my small role to play. We all do. However, there are days, even years where I hold God's gifts in my hands like a dirty sock and then neglect them in the back of the van. My exuberance is lacking and I can be too focused on my own problems and the events just in front of me. In these times I'm not aware or even care that God has given me something that could, not only help me to be more fully alive and conscience of Him working in the world, but bring a part of His plan into fruition.

God, however, doesn't beg and plead that I accept these opportunities to participate in His will. Instead, I believe he passes the task on to someone more willing. He may start with me because I have been willing in the past or the task is most suitable for me, but His work does not stop just because I am uninterested. As Isiah 55:11 says, "So will My word be which goes forth from My mouth; It will not return to Me empty, Without accomplishing what I desire, And without succeeding in the matter for which I sent it."

No, actually I think God finds someone who is willing to accept the gift as I did with the booklet. When Jesus came 2,000 years ago, He came to save the "lost sheep of house of Israel." They were His chosen people also known as the Jews. When they did not accept Him (at least most of them didn't) He gave His gift to the rest of us. Jesus even hints at this before His death and resurrection in Matthew 15:9-12 which reads:

Then Jesus went from that place and withdrew to the region of Tyre and Sidon. And behold, a Canaanite woman of that district came and called out, "Have pity on me, Lord, Son of David! My daughter is tormented by a demon." But he did not say a word in answer to her. His disciples came and asked him, "Send her away, for she keeps calling out after us."

He said in reply, "I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel." But the woman came and did him homage, saying, "Lord, help me." He said in reply, "It is not right to take the food of the children and throw it to the dogs." She said, "Please, Lord, for even the dogs eat the scraps that fall from the table of their masters." Then Jesus said to her in reply, "O woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish." And her daughter was healed from that hour.

The Canaanite woman, even though she was not from the "house of Israel" and thus not technically a child of God, had great faith, more so than most God's chosen people, and so her prayer was answered.*

When my faith is flickering and I don't take on my part in God's plan, someone else will. Someone who is eager to participate and cooperate with God, such as the Canaanite woman or my daughter's friend. This, however, is no consolation to me. What have I missed out on? What gifts have I left unopened that have now been passed on? I never want to miss out again. If God gives me a Mass Booklet, I want to take it, read it, use it as much as I can and then pass it on gleefully.

If only my daughter would have used that booklet one day. It was her loss. Thankfully, the booklet has been passed on to someone more willing. That doesn't mean I won't try again with my daughter just as God keeps trying with me.

*Note: because Jesus--God made man- -died and rose again and then went to heaven, we all are now children of God...even you reading this right now... it's just a matter of knowing it and accepting this great gift of God's Grace. No more eating the scraps left for the dogs. We are all welcome to feast at the table.

Juggling Children

2010-10-17T21:01:00.000-07:00

It is hard to distinguish Sunday from any other day in our household due to my husband's work schedule. Obviously, the only thing that differentiates Sunday from another day is going to Mass. Many Sundays I go to Mass without my husband. I sit in the very back of our very small church and juggle my three children the entire time.

Today was an especially interesting day. Before we even got into the church, my girls were giving me grief. We had planned to go visit my parents after church with a stop at Dairy Queen for ice cream. In no less than three minutes, I had both girls outside and I informed them that they had lost the privilege of ice cream. For a while they thought they could just be good and change my mind. When they figured out my mind was made up, then real trouble began. My eldest was crying silently while my three-year-old began to cry loudly and repeating her desire for ice cream. I ended up outside with her while she screamed.

The funny thing about the whole episode was that after they realized they could not manipulate me, we ended up sitting very closely together. They each kept hugging me and loving me. I kissed them and caressed their hair and for the rest of the day, we have had a relatively nice, peaceful time together. In fact, at this moment they are coloring and singing about how much Jesus loves us and loves everybody.

This incident reminds me of The Cornbread Crumble. There is something to setting a boundary and holding strong that makes my children nice. That being said, I believe my strength and patience to endure their behavior, in both instances, did not come from me. I felt as if I was on the edge of losing it and screaming but I kept my mind and soul still by a constant conversation with God. Supernaturally, I kept calm and even loving while they fell apart in their own ways.

My silent prayers went something like this: Lord, give me patience. Help me to be the mother I need to be to raise these girls the right way. God, give me the strength to endure this today and for the rest of my life. Jesus, I give you my heart. I am so weak, give me your strength.

I really am weak. My sin is always before me (Psalm 51:3). I feel so inadequate to keep up this task of mothering and yet, it's what I must do. I must not give up and with the help and the strength of the Creator of these children and of me, maybe we will make it through okay.

Note: During most of this crazy hour, a nice grandma in front of us offered to hold my baby son. He sat happily on her lap and didn't make even a peep. Maybe the angels were entertaining him.

7 Quick Takes: Friday (vol. 2)

2010-10-15T10:34:00.000-07:00

Click on image above to view Conversion Diary

--1--

Again I am attempting Seven Quick Takes: Friday which is hosted by Conversion Diary. If you haven't checked out Jennifer Fulwiler's blog yet, you are missing out. It's funny, interesting and spiritually moving all at the same time.

--2--

By linking to Conversion Diary, you may also notice that I am attempting to mimic her style...at least for this post (1.,2.,3. with some funny stories...if I can be funny, etc.). I like how Fulwiler writes and how it is presented. This is nothing new, in fact, some of the classical education homeschooling books I've been reading, suggest to do this with our children so they can have practice writing well.

--3--

Speaking of classical education, it is also suggested that children memorize poetry and other uplifting, beautiful things. It is something that will remain with them forever and something to help them seek that which is beautiful with the ultimate end being beauty itself: God. Our first poem has been memorized and my girls are going to put them in their own poetry notebooks.

--4--

This is the poem they memorized:

Whole Duty of Children

by Robert Louis Stevenson

A child should always say what's true

And speak when he is spoken to

And behave mannerly at table

At least as far as he is able.

--5--

Another beautiful classical education my girls are getting is through a local ballet school. However, not all parents putting their children in this particular ballet school are willing to put up with the teacher to attain this classical education. The teacher, Sian, is eccentric to say the least. She also can be rough around the edges and is known to rough up parents once in while. (Warning: this story is actually funny to me but I'm not sure how it will come off in writing so here goes...)

The other day, a dad was in the bathroom with his two-year-old son while the class of three and four year olds was in session. Of course, three little girls had to go potty while the bathroom was being used by this dad and son. Sian got impatient and pounded on the door telling this man to get out of the bathroom. He finally came out, and being a new parent, was unfamiliar with her abrupt style and so was pretty upset. Some of us with previous experience of Sian let him know that this was nothing. Things can get lots worse. We all have learned to stay out of her way and respect her authority as the ballet teacher in her own studio (and a very good one at that).

Well, he was not willing to let it go and when she came out of class, he began to let her know how unhappy he was with her and that his two-year-old son has to pee too and it was rude of her to interrupt his bathroom session. Of course, the ballet teacher did not back down. It was all very uncomfortable and I stood there examining my feet. Then, to top it off he used some very choice words.

My mouth dropped and my eyes widened and thankfully another mom quickly scolded him for his language and behavior in front of the kids. I have never seen anything like this before. Needless to say, I don't think he or his child will be back. Another unruly parent successfully weeded out!

--6--

I was thinking the other day about the argument for teaching teens about safe sex. The argument is that kids are going to do it anyway, so we should teach them how to do it safely. I guess that means we should start teaching teens how to drink alcohol safely. Then we could teach them how to drive safely after drinking and how to safely avoid a cop. Not only that, we can teach teens how to smoke properly. Maybe we could teach them how to not inhale or, again, how to not get caught. Makes a lot of sense doesn't it?

--7--

It is also interesting to me that schools have the audacity to teach our children so much about the occult. Have you noticed how many nice, friendly ghosts and witches there are in children's literature? Just yesterday my daughter came home telling me about an animal video they watched and how the cat was made to sound like a witch. Not only that, I went in to talk to the teacher before school had even begun to see some of the curriculum and she showed me a spelling list. The first word on the list was sorcerer. I wonder why it's okay to assault our Christian children with occult language and practices but we can't have any mention of Christianity at school? Imagine if the spelling word was disciple or commandment or there was a story about some character who actually prayed Christian prayers and practiced Christianity. (I actually think I know the answer to this question but I will refrain at the risk of sounding like a believer in conspiracies).

So that's it for Seven Quick Takes: Friday (vol. 2). I hope you enjoyed my random thoughts! I'd love to hear some of your thoughts as well. Comments are always welcome!

The Stuff of Nightmares

2010-10-13T09:02:00.000-07:00

I've been feeling somewhat guilty for posting pictures of Grasshopper's room and then complaining about her "collecting" habit. So, I have deleted this posting. We cleaned her room. It was a lot of time and work. All day, in fact, and into the next. She put everything away and at this moment the room looks great. It was a good example of hard work paying off for my eight-year-old. She was tired, but just kept working (and without much complaint, I must add) and in the end was proud of what she'd done.

Mary Today, Martha Tomorrow

2010-10-12T10:17:00.000-07:00

Today, sleepiness covers me like a shawl. I'd like to curl up in it and embrace the warmth. Instead, there are dishes to be washed, babies to be fed and cobwebs to be swept (not that I'm going to do that but I thought it sounded dramatic). There is much to do. As it is said, a mother's work is never done. Never.

Some moms are able to power through the days with blurry eyes and cloudy heads. Some moms, like me, tend to succumb easily to the lull of a tired body. From conversations I have had with moms of both inclinations I figured out that both kinds of moms feel guilty. We all feel guilty for some lack in ourselves to be the very best mom ever.

Maybe my inability to power through sleepiness is a gift from God. Like the story of Mary and Martha. Martha was busy in the kitchen while Mary sat at Jesus' feet and listened to him. Maybe today is a day when I get to act more like Mary and listen to my Lord (and my children). So, I think I'll throw off the guilt and be the mom that I am. I'll put up my feet for a while and read a book that is begging to be read or read to Little Bear for as long as she wants.

Tomorrow all that needs to be done will still be there and I'll get to it then. Maybe I'll even get those cobwebs.

My Job

2010-10-09T18:14:00.000-07:00

Grasshopper turned eight yesterday and we had our first slumber party. There were four extra little girls sleeping on our living room floor...well, I'm not sure they slept all that much. I, admittedly, was a wreck almost the entire time. I was pacing the floor, hiding in the kitchen, biting my lip just hoping and praying that they would go to sleep quickly. It was sort of a strange moment in my mommy life. It was like I was just waiting to catch my daughter in the act of something terrible: jumping on the couch, saying something mean, sneaking into the kitchen for food. Then, I began to feel desperate knowing how exhausted and hard to deal with she'd be the next day.

As I fretted and worried and wished I could quit my "job," Proverbs 22:6 began to float through my thoughts. "Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it." The part that hit me was when he is old. Now is the time for me to teach, to train my children what is right, what is true and what it means to live in this world as a Christian. It however, is not the time for me to expect them to get it all right. In fact, when I think back on my own childhood there were many times when I acted in ways unbecoming of someone who claims to follow Christ. So, why do I think that my own children should be perfect? Why am I fretting over each tiny, selfish, kid thing?

Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it.

Now is the time and the place for my children to make the mistakes that will eventually lead them to a life of holiness. My job is to teach them that way. They will make their own choices.

Art work by Ron DiCianni titled "Lord Teach Us to Pray"

CLICK HERE for more info

Be Patient

2010-10-06T09:47:00.000-07:00

I found a rock down by the water a while back and I picked it up to add to my collection of rocks (including agates of course). It's like rocks I've seen before with holes in it from water erosion. It amazes me how water can create such perfectly round holes in a rock. The constant flow of water eventually wears it down to the point where it can even break through to the other side. That's how this rock was. There was one hole that had broken all the way through, but then on the other side there were three more holes that were of different depths but had not yet broken through.

Front of the rock Back of the rock

When I was going through a time in my life when I was feeling frustrated with my own weaknesses, I remember I had a moment of break through. I can't remember exactly what I was struggling with but it seems like I was finally able to let go of some bitterness and unforgiveness. I was relieved and thought finally I can move on with my life and now I can become the person Jesus is calling me to be. It seems I had always been searching for this perfection in my self and figured eventually, if I was truly trusting God, I would get over my imperfections and my life would really begin.

Then I recalled this rock I had just picked up. Yes, on the front the water had broken through, but when the rock was turned over, there were holes still forming and working toward their own breakthrough. In other words, God isn't finished with me yet. I still have trials to come and will have them for the rest of my life.

When I realized that I'm never going to reach that moment of peace and perfection, I felt a little irritated. What was the point of striving to do what's right, of forgiving, loving my enemy, turning the other cheek, if all it gets me is another hole? But then I stood up a little straighter and thought at least now I know. I know that this work, these trials, will be with me for the rest of my life and all I can do is face them head on. This life is a process. It is a series of break throughs.

I have since applied this concept to other parts of my life. If I keep working and thinking and striving to be a better cook, eventually I have some break throughs and each lesson learned builds on the next. If a child of mine is exhibiting irritating behavior, if I continue to work on correcting (or accepting) that behavior, there will eventually be some kind of break through. I just have to keep in mind that I'll be dealing with something else later. There is more coming and all I need to do is have patience. Patience with myself, with my child, with whatever or whomever is confronting me at the moment.

In the end, these trials are shaping and carving my soul to conform to the One who is Perfection and Peace.

Try, Try Again

2010-10-04T22:52:00.000-07:00

Right now, in my fridge, are five meals ready to cook. I know, it's incredible! I spent some time prepping these meals and now I am ready to go. When my fridge is stocked and ready to go, I feel such a sense of accomplishment. The rest of my house may be a disaster and my baby may have some leftover squash on his jammies while he slumbers through the night, but my meals are ready!

Sheepishly I admit that I have given up (a while ago) on Saving Dinner. It ended up being more work than I was willing to commit to. However, I have discovered a new and creative diva, named Michelle, and her blog is Make 5 Dinners in One Hour. When I read that she was going to fast food restaurants a couple times a week I wanted to raise my hand and say, "me too, me too!!" Not that I like those places, in fact, I despise them. But, they are so easy and my kids like them. I knew that if this gal could get her fast-food -kids to eat her food, then maybe mine would too.

The bottom line is this: I may be a stay-at-home-mom, but I am not interested in being some 1950s housewife who bakes bread, has perfect hair and make-up, throws elegant parties and meets my husband at the door with his favorite mixed drink. In fact, I try to avoid the kitchen but then feel hugely guilty for lacking that love of food preparation every stay-at-home-mom ought to have. Some day I might enjoy cooking but for now, I need to survive. Maybe, just maybe, this five meals in a hour concept might work for me. It may at least free me up for more important things like reading with my children or taking them to the park and not stressing over dinner.

Note: I did get her trial menu and it took me more like two hours, but I think I can get the hang of it eventually. Oh...and my feet hurt now, my house really is a mess and I'm exhausted. But, at least my fridge is full and ready to sustain us for the week. The question I have to ask myself is, can I do this again next week? I hope so.

Baby You're Not Ready

2010-10-01T12:11:00.000-07:00

For the last couple weeks I have been so tired and unable to sleep well. I was sure it was my thyroid getting hyper again until I met with the doctor to go over my blood labs and everything looks great. If it wasn't that then I thought it must be my hormones changing since the pregnancy or caffeine is affecting me more. Then, last night I woke up in the middle of the night with the lyrics of Brandon Flowers in my head from one of his new songs: "...baby your not ready, slow down and take some time to evolve."

Then I knew why my life seems so crazy and I'm having sleepless nights. Maybe you don't really notice that blogpatrol link on the side of this blog, but I look at it daily to see how many people have checked in to read. A year and a half ago when I began Scattering Agates there were about seven readers, then nine, then about twelve. I could name at least that many people that I knew were reading and even though it seemed cool to have more readers, it was nice to know someone was reading.

Now, many more than twelve people are reading a day. So many that I have no idea who these people are, but I am twitterpated over it (although I'm still not ruling out that it's a computer glitch and really only a couple people read). It's all I can think about and it's keeping me up at night. What if I had all of the readers of this blog in one room? That would be so weird. You would all know so much about me and I would know nothing about most of you. I would love to sit and have coffee with each of you and get to know you too! Maybe we'll run into each other in Heaven one day.

Until then, thanks to everyone who is reading. I welcome your comments. They help me to know what type of posts are interesting to you. I am just so grateful for those of you who have been with me from the beginning and for those just joining. Now that I realize what is keeping me so razzled, I am going to attempt to "slow down" my thoughts and give myself some time to get used to this new phase in my blog life. In other words, some "time to evolve."

CLICK HERE and HERE to read some posts that may give you some perspective into why I write and who I am.

Update: Since writing this post I have removed the blogpatrol widget. No sense in obessing over a daily tally. Maybe now I can get back to real life :).

No Doubt

2010-09-29T22:23:00.000-07:00

This morning, Grasshopper and I were travelling to a doctor's appointment together (Baby Boy too). She began to talk about this and that, as seven-year-olds do, and then she asked me an interesting question. She had heard our priest say in one of his homilies that often kids at around seven or eight start to wonder and question the existence of God.

"Mom," she said, "I kind of wonder. Did you ever wonder when you were a kid?"

I took a deep breath because I can honestly say I have never doubted. It's just always been there, this faith in God. I told her as much and encouraged her to pray for the gift of faith, but the conversation still sits in my thoughts because I had more to say.

My parents converted to Christianity just before I was born. I grew up in a world where faith in God was exciting. My parents were filled with joy and zeal for the Lord. We attended prayer groups, retreats, Mass, conferences, you name it, we were there. I even followed my mom around the living room in the mornings with a tambourine singing praise songs to Jesus (off key). My parents' faith, especially my mom's, splashed on me like a bucket of cool, clear water and I drank all that I could exuberantly.

Of course, our life was not always so full of joy. My parents had their fair share of trials. However, their faith remained through it all and has only grown stronger. (I don't think my mom dances around the living room any more, but that would be a sight to see if she did!) Even to this day, my parents are Catholic/Christians to the core and I don't think anyone would doubt it.

Because my childhood was so immersed in Christianity, my relationship with God began when I was very young and, although I was blessed to have a huge boost from my parents' bubbling over with the joy of the Lord, I took it on as my own. From a young age, I prayed to Jesus with all my heart. I read my Bible, listened and sang songs to Him and did my best to live in His way. Now, my relationship with God is the very breath of my life. Even if I was sitting in a hospital bed or a prison cell all alone (I'm not sure why I just imagined myself in prison), it would still be there..without a doubt.

What I didn't tell Grasshopper was that faith in God takes not only a decision to believe, but it takes work. The work is in prayer. Just like any other relationship, we must talk and listen to one another and that is basically what prayer is. Just like communicating in a marriage is so important, so is communicating with God. Sometimes, and for some people, the work comes easily, but it's still work. The great thing about a relationship with God is that sometimes He pours cool, refreshing buckets of water on us!

We Take Time for Nature Walks

2010-09-27T22:50:00.000-07:00

I have been attempting to follow a preschool curriculum out of Catholic Heritage Curriculum with Little Bear. I'm trying to be good about some sort of routine in our week and themes to our months. The great part of this curriculum is that the whole family can work on them together. One of the things under the heading "we take time for..." is nature walks, so Saturday I took the kids to do just that. It was just the four of us and we had a very nice time.

Here is what I am attempting to work on with Little Bear this year (it is posted to my fridge as a constant reminder to me because I'm so flaky about keeping to plans):

Monthly Themes:

September: I am happy when I obey
October: My Guardian Angel watches over me
November: I share God's gifts with others
December: I talk with God in prayer
January: I am a child of God
February: God loves me and I love him!
March: God lives within me
April: Heaven is my home
May: Mary is my mother
June: Thank you God, for everything!

We are growing in wonderful ways...

Virtue (right-away obedience, honesty, forgiveness, sharing)
Good Attitude (cheerful, helpful, thankful, cooperative)

We are learning so much...

Prayers (Sign of the Cross, Grace, Hail Mary, Angel of God)
Chores (make bed, pick up toys, set table

We take time for...

Daily Prayer
Story Time/Reading
Visits to the Library
Nature Walks
Ballet
Art
Music

Brandon Flowers

2010-09-26T21:38:00.000-07:00

I just want everybody to know that my husband and I have a date night planned for November. We are going to see Brandon Flowers, the lead singer of The Killers, perform his solo album Flamingo. I've posted my favorite song, so far, from the new CD. It takes a little over a minute to get the the lyrics. Now I just have to get Baby Boy to eat enough solids to make it half the night without me.

The last time my husband and I went to see The Killers, we sat near the back in the seats with all the "old" people. At one point I turned around to see a balding man rocking out. He really looked nerdy compared to the stylish teeny boppers running around below. If there were a spectrum of nerdiness to coolness at that concert, we hover close to the nerdy end. Good thing my husband is not balding. I really am going to wear my ear plugs this time though.

The Kitchen Sink

2010-09-25T10:10:00.000-07:00

This, our sink, is my favorite part of our new kitchen. It is the one item we splurged a little on. It is so large that I can practically fill up the entire dishwasher with a sink full of dirty dishes. It is so deep that when it is full of dirty dishes, they are barely visible. I really like the faucet we chose as well.

It would be interesting to keep track of the amount of time I spend at the kitchen sink. It is a lot. I may be rinsing dishes to put in the dishwasher, filling a pot for pasta, taking a drink, or washing my hands. Most of the time it is not silent while at I'm the sink. It is the time I think to bark orders and reminders at my children and husband or when I remember to make a phone call. If I am standing at the sink it is like a hint for my children to begin to fight or just get wild. It's the time my son decides he needs to be held and so rolls around on the living room floor crying until my hands are dry and I can pick him up.

It used to seem like such a chore and so chaotic each time I would get up to wash the dishes or work around the sink. I grumbled about it and it seemed so hard. Now, it is just a part of the day-to-day for me. It's just part of the routine of motherhood. I have embraced it as my work and one of the little things I do to make our home a place to live and not to loath.

Steps toward Solutions

2010-09-22T17:22:00.000-07:00

I'm still feeling pretty frustrated with parenting in general but have had a few good things happen and the trauma of the past few days is becoming the steps toward a better tomorrow.

Step 1: I had two phone calls and two friends stop by with words of encouragement plus words from comments on this blog that all put more air in my balloon.

Step 2: I forcefully changed my attitude. I made myself smile and be cheerful to the point of being shrill and freaking Little Bear out. The result was positive and lifted my spirits and the mood of the house slightly. I thought I might institute a "save it for Saturday" rule whereby I may only complain for a certain amount of time on Saturdays to my husband.

Step 3: Instead of feeling overwhelmed and frustrated by Grasshopper's crazy behavior, I have taken action instead. At this moment she is weeding my flower garden. She must do three days of chores for me (hard labor) without complaint. Any complaint and she gets another day (so we are actually working on four days of chores right now). I thought it might do her some good to work out her anger on the flowers rather than the family.

Step 4: I began reading a book titled Bringing Up Geeks: how to protect you kid's childhood in a grow-up-too-fast world by Marybeth Hicks. It was recommended to me by another mom (and really cheep on Amazon). I'm only on page 20 but here are some of the headers I've read through that have inspired me to be strong and stay firm:

Taking Charge: Geeks and Parental Authority
   Obedience is not such bad thing
   We don't lose authority we give it away
   The pitfalls of permissiveness
   Setting limits, defining expectations

All in all, life is getting a little better around here. The tough moments propel me toward new and better solutions. Ultimately, my little darlings, as well as I, will be better for it...I hope.

Deflated

2010-09-19T19:21:00.000-07:00

If I'm being completely honest with this blog, I am compelled to reveal that I am miserable. It is quite likely that, in the end, parenting is going to kill me. When, may I ask, will my children obey me instead of fighting every little, itty, bitty, teensy, weensy detail of a request? No matter how nicely I ask or how loudly I yell, I get the same response. My little darlings' faces get all scrunched up, their shoulders slump, their hands fall practically to the floor and the most terrible, exhausting words come out of their mouths (accompanied with a horrible screeching, wailing kind of sound), "noooooo, I don't want to" or "why do I always have to do everything" or "it's too hard, I need help."

Tonight was a doozer of a night. I was lamenting, again, that my little darlings' rooms are never clean and that no wonder the House Fairy never comes because you can't even pick up your dirty clothes or even attempt to put one thing away with out complaining and crying about it. I ranted, raved, whined (that's right whined) and found myself saying, under my breath, "I hate this. Why do I have to do everything? This is too hard for me. I can't do it."

No wonder my children have such a hard time doing anything. I am as bad as they are!

The thing I really dislike about realizing these awful things about myself is that I have no idea how to change my own attitude. I know very well that, just as a principal sets the tone of a school, or a priest his church, or a doctor her office, I set the tone of my home. It seems the tone I am setting is not a good one and instead of changing that tone, I feel like an untied balloon that's been let loose and is banging against the ceiling about to lose all its air and fall to the floor. Deflated.

The only thing I can do at the moment is finish this blog and go to bed. On to tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow...until I die.*

*Please don't take me too seriously. This too shall pass I know that to be true. Soon, I'll find the air to blow up my balloon again and life will carry on until I'm hitting my head against the ceiling...again. If you have any advice for me, I'd love to hear it.

A Corn Bread Crumble

2010-09-15T10:18:00.000-07:00

Yesterday Grasshopper went into a giant, crying, rage because I decided not to make corn bread with our chili. She was flying and flopping all over the house and screaming at me because she wanted corn bread. A common experience with this child? Yes! So, instead of yelling and screaming and chasing her around trying to instill in her the value of a good attitude through the wall of her bad attitude, I decided to have her make the corn bread herself. I make it from a box so there are just three ingredients. Easy, right?

First, she spilled part of the contents on the counter and floor. Then she wouldn't crack the egg because she didn't want to wash her hands. Next she shoved the spoon in to mix and huffed that the egg would not mix in. I calmly led her through the process telling myself that this is an important lesson. Of course, part of cooking is cleaning and so I had her put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. She shoved them in complaining that they didn't fit and crashed them around until one broke. I figured this might happen and let it and I'm glad I did.

After the dish broke, Grasshopper's attitude changed and for the rest of the night she was an obedient, helpful and pleasant child. I'm pretty sure she was proud that she made the muffins and ate them with gusto. It was not easy for us to go through this and I said many silent prayers for patience. I really would rather not do it all again but I will. She'll have to work for the rest of her life and it is my task to teach her how.

Needless to say, after she was in bed, I slumped onto the couch exhausted knowing that this work of mine starts all over again tomorrow.

My Mission (and I chose to accept it)

2010-09-14T16:44:00.000-07:00

The following is an excerpt from The Diocesan Chronicle: the official news of the Diocese of Baker written by Rev. Christopher Agoha, SMMM (September 12, 2010)

The school system that normally runs from the pre-school to the university academic level can only truly be counted as useful when it aids the development of the natural, spiritual, academic and moral powers of an individual. Parents are the natural educators of a child who teach from the earliest days of a child's life with actions, signs and spoken words. The formal school education system enhances this knowledge by introducing a more structured system of teaching. The intellect is like a two-edged sword; it can record both the good and the bad. The child's intellect is very delicate; it can absorb every experience, but lacks the ability to discern the good from the bad. It would therefore be short-sighted to define education only from an intellectual perspective. Education must include ethical, spiritual and natural wisdom meant for the realization of a complete and mature human person. This ought to be a concern for all who are responsible for the education of children. The time and culture in which we live often lacks a solid moral base and this puts the moral lives of our children at risk.

We should be concerned because lack of a solid moral base has an impact on the child's intellectual development and formation. Unfortunately, the spirit of the age also affects young families and their willingness to be moral educators. Some of these parents see moral and spiritual education as indoctrination of their children, in place of which they advocate for so-called free and liberal scientific knowledge.

It is important for parents, particularly those with young children to see the comprehensive education of their children as their most important mission. Scientific education is just a small part of the comprehensive education system; education that is void of moral and spiritual upbringing is very artificial and dangerous to the human person and society in general.

After reading this I thought, "this is exactly what I've been trying to say for years." All the discipline and behavior problems in our schools and in our society have been compounded since we have taken out the teaching of moral and spiritual components in education. They've been taken out in the name of separating church from state, and I believe to our society's own demise. Some would believe that the problems of our time could be fixed if say, a single mother of three, could just afford her house payment and not have to work three jobs. What if, however, she had not had babies out of wedlock or relied on her family for support rather than the state? What if she had the moral strength to do the right thing? We can't be perfect, but when we have a moral compass to follow and fall back on it is a good thing. It is good for an individual and ultimately good for our society.

As a parent who believes strongly in teaching my children to one day become "complete and mature human person[s]," I take seriously Agoha's statement that I should "see the comprehensive education of [my] children as [my] most important mission." I do. I really do. Now I just have to figure out exactly how to do that.

I worry about, as I stated one time, the fast and heavy train of society. I see my children trying to walk in a moral and ethical way only to have their tiny little feet crushed by that fast moving train. Like sheep before wolves (where have heard that before?). I have to keep telling myself that God is bigger, God is stronger, God has already won this battle. Right now, while my children are small, I am like a watchdog. I am crouched by the door listening, watching and sniffing out that which is dangerous and detrimental to my children reaching their fullest potentials. At some point they will walk on their own and I do not want to look back and know that I had not done all I could.

As St. Elizabeth Ann Seton once said:

...the life of virtue is much more than knowing the difference between right and wrong, it is having the strength to choose the right. And this strength comes only with practice under the watchful and vigilant eyes of a mother. Teach them to cultivate their true calling to holiness. Teach them to give their noble soul its rights and our God His rights! You must teach your children in the way that they should go. Much of this way they will walk with you, but you will have to keep a careful watch on their footsteps...And don't stop calling them back to virtue for a moment, but sigh incessantly for that happy hour when you shall all be together, absorbed in the ocean of His love, which will be your life, your hope, your consolation. The mother who gives up on goodness forfeits forever.

Just Another Sheep on a Cliff

2010-09-13T21:50:00.000-07:00

Today was the first day for Baby Boy to have his rice cereal. He's six months old now. He hated it and gagged most of it up. We all laughed as he made the most awful looking faces and his eyes looked at me pleadingly as if to say, "help!"

I'm sad to be coming to the end of nursing exclusively. Baby Boy (I'm going to have to come up with another nick name) will most likely be our last baby and it is bitter sweet to end this chapter in my life. The last six months have been like climbing up a cliff. One of my feet would slip just as I got a good foot hold with the other. It has been exhausting and tenuous. Now that he and I have finally gotten this nursing thing down, we are about to go into the food smashing, chopping, gagging, smearing and icky-sticky-dirty stage. It's as if I have made it up this first cliff and am lying exhausted and panting only to come to the next cliff.

I guess that's how life is. One cliff after another. Once in a while I make it to a flat spot, get my breath back, have a few days of joy and then start up the next cliff. With each twist and turn that life takes, I keep climbing up these cliffs and praying that I never fall. The blessing is in looking below and seeing where I've been and how far I've come. I am able to recognize that I am growing stronger and am learning. I've learned there are some places that I should probably not put my foot due to loose rocks or roots I should not grab because they are dry and weak.

Even though I have done some of the work discerning each step, most of the work of discernment was passed on to me through the teaching of my parents. My parents were also taught by their own parents but in their mid-thirties just before I was born, they became Catholic Christians and so passed on the long and careful discernment of the Church. It is a voice I can trust. It is the voice of Jesus himself.

"My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me;" (John 10:27)

Now it is my work, my vocation, to pass on this discerning voice, this moral code to my children. They will have to climb their own cliffs, but hopefully they will be able to make good decisions and place their feet where they ought to go.

Sons and Mothers

2010-09-11T08:05:00.000-07:00

When I knew I was having a boy, many moms around me would say how wonderful it is to have a boy. "Boys are different," they'd tell me, "special." Now that I have my boy, I know that it's true. In no way does it take away the specialness of my girls, it's just a different kind of special. In fact, I think mothers are made to raise sons and to raise daughters to one day raise sons.

At first, this may seem sexist to say, but once it's thought through, it really is not. We need good men, husbands and fathers and we need good mothers to raise them. It's circular.

Advice to Self

2010-09-08T09:19:00.000-07:00

On the first day of school for Grasshopper, now in second grade, I found out something I am not happy about. There are 28 children in her class. 28! That is too many. Our little school is a charter school and is supposed to keep the class size under 24. It has been my one consolation in the madness of public education. We have so very few options where we live for school and I'm decidedly upset.

What do I do now? Do I homeschool or check out the local private schools (that I have never really heard great things about academically speaking)? Or do I just wait out the year and see how things go? I just can't imagine that a teacher can be successful with such a large class and how will my daughter get what she needs?

The advice I would give to the me years ago (and my daughter was only three at the time and I was not thinking about schools), "make sure there are good schools before you move anywhere."

Live and learn. Maybe by writing this it will help someone to not make the mistake we have made.

However, I do have to add, that living in this place has brought many great blessings as well. We have made some wonderful friends, we have a nice little church to attend, and in no other way do I regret our decision. I just hope that I am able to give my children what they need to grow up to be true thinkers and to use their brains and creativity to live the life they have been given. It's a daunting task ahead of me. Again, one step a time.

Boundaries

2010-09-06T21:42:00.000-07:00

School starts tomorrow and summer is over. Most of me is relieved to be starting the routine of school days again. Summer, although I look forward to it from the second week of school until it comes, is long and hectic. My children are completely strung out by the end of each long day and because the sun stays up longer, so do they. It's nice to be able to turn off the light and have darkness like a boundary on the day.

My children also need some boundaries on their behavior. I have been gathering together my thoughts and plans for chores and allowances to help keep a lid on some of their bad behavior break outs. We have been enduring some major battles lately and with age my children are only getting more sophisticated in their disobedience. It's overwhelming to me on many days but I'll continue to make steps to improve things around here until one day my darlings will be out of the house...then what??? It's a little scary to think about!

The House Fairy

2010-09-03T09:20:00.000-07:00

Have you ever heard of The House Fairy? I hadn't either until the other day. I was searching around the website of The Fly Lady and there she was. I clicked onto her site and there were some videos there of this old, goofy looking fairy who claims to work for Santa. I'm not one to promote fairies (tooth fairy and even Santa included). I do it begrudgingly because I don't like to lie, trick or manipulate my children. It just bothers me because I want to always be a truth teller. However, this House Fairy lady had a magical effect on my children. They watched a couple videos and then cleaned their rooms...both of them! Suddenly, I was no longer the mean mommy. It's not me who inspects, but The House Fairy.

Truth be told, I spent the $15 and made an appointment with The House Fairy. She even came last night and left a little treat for my girls for cleaning their rooms. Maybe, at least for a while, we can have some grins instead of grumbles in our daily household tasks. I might even get that House Fairy to give me a treat once in a while.

Hope Shouldn't Float

2010-09-01T10:21:00.000-07:00

Glenn Beck has been on my mind lately. It seems it was quite an accomplishment to call together hundreds of thousands of people (300,000 to 500,000 by most estimates) to a rally in Washington. I watched the rally titled Restoring Honor on C-SPAN and was quite moved by it.

Beck has an ability to reach people's hearts because he is an honest, energized and emotional guy and he's good at what he does. His talent for build up and drama is not often found in people who are interested in politics and what gets him so excited used to seem so boring to me: the history of America and especially the founding of our country. After listening to him for a while, I've been much more interested in the lives of our founders and what it was that moved them to begin and build the American dream.

Obama was able to gather large crowds as well (not as large as Beck's rally but large by all accounts). Remember those speeches and all those people? Throngs. Obama's oration was spectacular, emotional and moving. A lot like Beck except not as goofy. And we, the people, were so easily moved by by his rhetoric.

However, there is a difference between Beck and Obama. Obama talked about hope, but I would characterize the hope he talked about as a hope that floats. It is a nebulous hope in a man, a government, an idea. It's a hope that can never really be grasped and never quite materializes. It sounds good at the start, but fizzles by the end.

The hope Beck presents is different. Even after his speeches, this hope remains and stands firm in it's place. It is not a hope based on a man, an idea or even an expectation for something good to come to those listening. It is a hope based on Truth and that is God. This kind of hope doesn't fizzle out. This kind of hope rests in the hearts of the people who believe it and is carried on from there.

Beck is not a man to be feared. He is asking the American people to turn back to God, to change our ways and, as he says, to stand in the truth. He echoes prophets throughout the ages, such as St. John the Baptist who said, "repent (turn your life around) and believe in the Gospel (the good news of Jesus Christ)." It seems a little awkward and weird to our current, godless, sensibilities to hear these kind of religious words coming from a man who is concerned about our country. Yet, our nation was founded on such beliefs. It is not to the exclusion of those who do not believe, but just being faithful to the founding of our great country.

You be the judge: CLICK HERE to watch Glenn Beck's keynote address. It's an hour long, but worth the time.

Uniquely Inspired

2010-08-27T23:16:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine told me today that she reads my blog for inspiration. The sip of wine in my mouth caught in my throat and I coughed. It's hard for me to believe what I write, coming from the mundane of my life, could be "inspirational." Yet, when I look around at almost every person around me, I find inspiration in their gifts and talents. I'm inspired by the way someone decorates her house or the way she gets her children to obey. I'm inspired by the food a friend cooks or the clothes she wears. We each have our gifts and we inspire each other to go on, to reach further, to be better.

I think the key is to be able to be inspired by another and not want what that person has or does. It's hard to be content with my own gifts, my own style and my own life. A few people have asked me, some what bewildered, "how do you find the time to write?" I guess it's my thing, it's my gift. It's what I love to do. So I do it. I've asked the same kind of questions like how do you find the time to bake bread, pick out such stylish clothes or shop for make-up? I don't spend any more time than necessary in the kitchen, or picking out my clothes or even plucking my eyebrows (what a chore). But I do spend time writing and doing other things that are unique and important to me. We all have the same amount of time in a day, we each just make choices to fill our time with what is important to each person.

Steadily I am coming to an acceptance of who I am and what I do with my time. I will try to continue to be inspired by those around me without longing to live another life. I will also strive to root out what is not so inspirational in myself. Ultimately I hope to truly appreciate the gifts God has given uniquely to me.

I have the above painting (Irises) by van Gogh in my bedroom and often look at it while rocking my baby. Notice the white lilac is unique in its color and position? It almost looks as if the other flowers are all looking to that one white iris for...inspiration...that's why I picked this painting for this post.

Fair Departures

2010-08-23T07:19:00.000-07:00

This is a poem written by Nina M. Ford (a.k.a. The Roving Tenderfoot) in 1943. She lived in Montana, was my father's English teacher, and was a good friend of my grandmother.

When the skies are blue
And the fields are green,
And the long brown road is dry;
When the day is bright,
And the clouds are white,
And a breeze goes singing by,
The call of the long brown road becomes
An urge in my restless feet.
The soft wind riffles my greying hair,
And the world seems made of sun and air.
Oh, the going will be sweet!

There will be travelers on that road
To share glad miles with me,
To talk about the things we do,
About the things we see.
Then they will turn and go their way,
These brief companions of a day.

What matters it if my hair is grey,
And my step is a trifle slow?
While life shall last, I shall hear that call;
While strength remains, I'll go.
And when I take to the long, long trail
Where the traffic flows one way,
May the cloulds be white,
And the sun be bright,
As bright as it is to-day.
I shall meet a Friend out on that trail,
Who will guide my every mile.
May that going be as sweet as this;
May I turn, and wave, and smile.

Thinking and Learning

2010-08-22T17:57:00.000-07:00

Remember when I was considering homeschooling my children? I am still considering. In fact, I've decided to "homeshool" my three-year-old while her older sister is in school. I found a definition of homeschooling that I like and so I am, in a sense, also homeschooling my seven-year-old:

"Homeschooling is the act of a family taking responsibility for the education of its own children" (Homeschooling the Early Years by Linda Dobson).

The more I read and learn about homeschooling and the state of our current educational system, the more enthusiastic I am getting about taking a more active approach to the education of my kids. My goal is not this crazy notion about a life-long love of learning. My goal is to teach my children how to think. Just how I'm going to go about doing that is not altogether clear at this point, but that is my focus.

Since Grasshopper's school is doing a fairly good job at teaching her reading and math, I am looking to enhance some of the other areas of education such as social studies (I prefer to call it history without intentionally leaving anything out), art, music and, of course, religion. Currently, Grasshopper is taking art lessons from a local artist teacher and gets some musical appreciation in her ballet class. I may buy some recorders for further musical development since there was a recent study about an increase in IQ if the learning includes reading notes and playing (or singing). I'd also like to buy a keyboard for the family for Christmas. As for religion, I am trying not to go overboard. She will go to religious education on Sundays at church, plus I will teach her the First Communion stuff (this is the year!!) and then, well, I'm going to teach a class to the neighborhood kids on Thursday nights...it's a plan in the works and I may have to have Grasshopper be my "helper" so she's not religioned out.

Whew!

In a later post, I'll describe what I will be doing with Little Bear. I do have a plan, but at this point my mind is whirling with ideas and they need to find a focus. I am really very excited about it all.

Transition Team

2010-08-17T07:25:00.000-07:00

After having a baby, there is always that period of transition. In our family, the transition is not always smooth and going from two to three children was especially hard on us. It seemed that each of our anxieties, about whatever (germs, the world ending, whether or not the purple tutu is clean), came to the surface and flew around our interactions recklessly. There were many days where I had to muster up some courage from somewhere to face the tornado that my family had become.

However, there is hope. After five months, we have begun to adapt to the change. The last few days I have actually and honestly enjoyed my family and am so glad I have three beautiful children. We were even stuck in a van together for a couple days and I didn't feel the urge to run away by the end of our weekend trip (I did get the urge to run away from junk food...yet another food issue I need to work on with my family).

I know we'll still be in transition for a while longer, but most of our anxieties have been pushed back under the surface and we are interacting more smoothly...at least until Baby Boy starts to walk.

It Takes a Family

2010-08-12T08:42:00.000-07:00

to Raise a Village*

The whole overturning of Proposition 8 in California has really been weighing heavy on me. I'm frustrated by the fact that I am not able to articulate why. By opening my mouth (or clicking my fingers), I feel like I'm putting my foot on a railroad track just waiting to be flattened by a zooming train. How do you defend something so primal, something that has not needed a definition since practically the beginning of time? Now, all of a sudden, a minority of people want to define marriage in very different way than it has ever been defined in all of human history.

Cardinal Mahony, the Archbishop of California (and liberal by most standards), had this to say after the judge/activist, overturned the will of the people that a marriage should be between one man and one woman:

"The union of a man and of a woman in a life-long loving and caring relationship is of divine origin. No human nor civil power can decree or declare otherwise...For many of us, we will continue to believe that God is the origin of marriage, and we will follow God's constant revelation to that effect."

I would also add that, as the Catholic Church teaches, there are two ends for marriage, union and procreation. Without these two purposes, marriage becomes just a committed relationship between two (or more for that matter) people of whatever gender. Also, as Dr. Jennifer Roback Morse from the Ruth Institute points out in a video you can watch on their website, the essential public purpose of marriage is to attach mothers and fathers to children and to each other. Otherwise, even college roommates could be considered "married."

The redefinition of marriage has been in the works for a long time now. It seems that there is not much that can be done to change it back. That is why it weighs heavy on my heart. I worry about what kind of world my children are going to live in. The unknown consequences of redefining marriage in our society and world are unfathomable. Strangely, we will now have to teach our children, in a straight forward and strong way, what God's plan for marriage is and for this, they will be labeled (unfairly and unjustly) as bigots, haters and close-minded, that is if they can stand the pain of having a foot under the crushing train of the world around them.

There is so much more to say on this topic. I want to go into paragraphs of explaining how this argument has nothing to do with hating people who are gay. The perceived discrimination is real to them. It does seem fair and just to give them what they so desire. But with some careful thought on what a family really is, the original cell of social life (Catechism of the Catholic Church #2207), maybe they could be content with civil unions; a contractual union that bears the same weight as a civil marriage, except it is not defined as a marriage.

I guess I just have to echo what Cardinal Mahony said, "...we will continue to believe that God is the origin of marriage, and we will follow God's constant revelation to that effect."

Lord, have mercy on us.

*I did not make this phrase up. I read it on the Ruth Institute website and thought is was very clever.

Perfect Timing

2010-08-08T19:20:00.000-07:00

Now that I have three children, there are more opportunities for falling apart moments. In fact, if you add in mommy and daddy, there is the likely chance that there will be one unhappy person at all times. One of the most intense times of day is when we have to leave the house and be somewhere at a certain time. No matter how much planning and preparation, it is inevitable that we are rushing due to some unknown problem that causes one or more of us to free fall into tears and tantrums. It could be a last minute dirty diaper that spills out onto Baby Boy's clothes, an inability for Little Bear to find the other black shoe, or Grasshopper is suddenly starving. We end up flying out the door hoping that we remembered everything and usually end up back in the house for something that was forgotten. Meanwhile, my attitude is terrible. I get cranky in these moments and sigh noisily hoping that someone will rescue me from this mayhem.

Until recently. I've begun to say a silent prayer before we start the get-up-and-go process: Lord, I pray for your perfect timing. I also say it while we go through the moments of despair and I say it as we are bombing down the road. This little prayer has helped me to calm down inside and trust that God is in control. Maybe there is a reason for whatever happens.

Maybe, for some reason, I was not meant to enjoy noon prayer with my husband and baby at Mt. Angel Abbey the other day. It seemed that timing was perfect up to the point of the prayer. In fact, we arrived just as the bells started to ring, calling the monks and visitors into the church. We sat down peacefully and just as the monks began chanting the Psalms, I had to leave because Baby Boy was hungry. Hurriedly, I found a quiet spot overlooking the view from the hill and when Baby Boy was finished and I was about to trot back in to the Abbey Church to finish noon prayer, he spit up all over himself and me. Meanwhile, the diaper bag was in the van and my husband, still praying, had the key. I admit, that in the peace of that day while someone nearby sat looking out to the quiet distance, I said out loud, "Baby Boy, that was bad timing!" Then I laughed (out loud as well) at the inside joke between God and me.