Category Archives: Family

Part of your world

2 Comments

I was picking up toys in Lillian’s room and came across this.

Part of your world.

The Princess and her reptiles.

A princess in an air balloon with a frog and lizard, positioned just so in the midst of her well-appointed menagerie.

Lillian lives in a remarkable place.

Her feet may be on the ground, but her imagination takes her far, far away.

Case in point: A few weeks back, I heard her playing and say she needed to take her princess on her noodlecorn (unicorn) to the woods to escape the Drooling Giant (Baby Clifford). Once she made it to her safe haven, behind the couch I heard her say, “Help me Obi Won Kenobi.”

She loves little toys. The greater choking hazard, apparently the better. I love when I open a lower cabinet and find her Littlest Petshop toys positioned in a private conversational circle. Or balanced just so on the base of a lamp or top of a heat vent.

Those little surprises make me yearn for those moments myself. The freedom to let my mind take me somewhere. Sometimes anywhere but where my feet may actually be. Just to escape. But come back, of course. Moments like that make me grateful for prayer … and the promises of one day living forever in another remarkable place.

Until then, I need to go dress my darling girl in her princess-the-pencil clothes. (Aka Princess Rapunzel).

Keeping watch

2 Comments

“Could you not keep watch for one hour?”

Spending time at Eucharistic Adoration is a gift. One that I so infrequently receive these days.

Yesterday I was able to sneak away for that precious hour of face time with our Lord, and my multitasking brain was all over the place.

I felt like Peter. Unable to stay awake. Although I wasn’t sleeping, I was distracted and not devoted to our Lord during that one hour as I promised myself I would be.

It’s hard to shut off a mutlitasking brain when it is so busy multitasking to prepare for all the upcoming multitasking.

I spent two days this week preparing more than a dozen meals for my family so I can tackle all the stuff we have on our plates these next two weeks and still eat healthy, home-cooked dinners together.

I cooked and cooked, did laundry, homeschooled, picked up children, dropped off children, nursed a baby, wiped spilled milk, changed diapers, took care of business, ran to the bank, unloaded and reloaded dishwasher, dressed and bathed myself and others and the list goes on, and on and on.

Had I not done all that preparation, I wouldn’t have been able to steal that hour yesterday. So in an attempt to take a  moment of peace and reap the fruits of my labor, I knelt. And although my prayer was earnest, it was scattered, easily distracted and completely unfocused. I had so many people to pray for. So many intentions. My mind just raced hoping I wouldn’t forget this or that, while flashes of “don’t forget to move the laundry to the dryer when you get home” and “maybe I should read some prayers to get focus, but if I read prayers I’ll miss the conversation with God, then I won’t be able to listen” and “I forgot to mute my cell phone. Should I mute it now, which makes noise and could be distracting or take the chance that it won’t ring?” and, unfortunately, that list just went on, too.

I even found myself distracted with the thought of blogging about how distracted I was. Ugh.

But even in the midst of my mental chaos, the Lord, as promised, delivered. I returned home renewed. Happy to be able to easily put a good meal on the table, crawl around with the baby, read with the children and spend quiet time with my spouse. I’m sure even my distracted prayers were heard.

I am so grateful God is merciful and understanding.

I eagerly look forward to the next hour I can find to be with the Blessed Sacrament–however I can offer it. It’s my job to work toward giving God more, and I’ll just keep trying.

And no, I did not remember to move the laundry to the dryer.

Time alone

Leave a comment

I had the opportunity to have  a date night with our eight-year-old son. I took him to the movies to see The Blind Side. The movie is rated PG-13, but  I’d already screened it and thought it would be good for Henry.

Although some of the material is mature, it is presented in a way that doesn’t seem gratuitous. The story has so many lessons. Even the elements that might be beyond him are wrought with opportunities for explanation. And I wanted the explanations to come from me.

At this point of his life, I still want to be his filter. He has plenty of time to sort the stuff of life out, but for now, I want to provide him with the guidance he needs to understand our family’s values. As his parents, we are after all his first teachers.

When he’s older he’ll take what we’ve taught him, weigh it with what he experiences, along with what our culture tells him is so, and have to figure out what is right and what is wrong, what is truth and what is not.  I hope he remembers some of what we talked about tonight. Even if he doesn’t remember that specifically, maybe he’ll remember that he held my hand as we skipped to the car and that we returned home well past his bedtime on our special night together.  And maybe that alone will be enough of a lesson.

Lego Nation

Leave a comment

Sunday we made a trip to the Henry Ford Museum in Dearborn . We’re frequent visitors and have been members of the museum and village for 17 years. If you don’t go, you should. But that’s another post.

They had a special “exhibit” of Lego castle stuff. I put exhibit in those annoying ironic quotes because it was hardly an exhibit. I think my expectations (as well as many others’) were that the exhibit was going to be something it wasn’t. We’ve all seen some of those amazing Lego creations on the internet. Heck, we saw some amazing youth-built Lego creations at the State Fair. That’s not what this exhibit was, but it’s hard to market something with the caveat that says, “Oh, by the way, it’s not at all what you think it is going to be, but come anyway and feel duped.”  Anyway, I hope that the thing brought more people to the museum, because that place is always worth the trip.

Back to Lego Land … at one area of the room there were multiple tables set up for kids to build their own Lego creations. Each table was flanked with bins of the building blocks in all shapes and sizes. Around each table stood many very busy children. And here’s a description that some might not like … most of them were boys. (That’s just a reality check and shouldn’t surprise any parent of a boy.) Yes there are some girls who totally get into Legos. But the fact of today’s visit is that those tables were surrounded with more serious boys than girls. The girls were good for a while but the boys were there, in community, building.

The table Henry was working at was all boys with the exception of one little girl. She was very busy and holding her own next to her older brother. There were at least a dozen or more boys at this one spot, and together they formed a sort of Utopian Lego Nation. Peacefully working together.

“Dudes, anyone see this shape?” A bigger boy asked holding up a piece. Searching for treasure, little boy hands dug deep into the trenches of the closest H1N1 infested bin to find that prized piece. Each eager to take part in contributing to that big boy’s vision. Success. Then back to work.

They casually shared stories of their design. Its function. Its form. All standing, quietly building. There was agreement, encouragement and many approving nods as they looked about.

All I could do stand back and admire the comfortable comradery among total strangers — all focused, working with a purpose.

When the boy next to Henry was having difficulty figuring out how to fit a piece a certain way, Henry reached over, put his hand on top of the boy’s hand and showed him how to turn the piece to get the desired positioning. A brief smile of thanks from the boy, and they were back to work.

I felt like I had witnessed a little glimpse of heaven and was just short of tears. For a brief sweet moment, I just imagined what the world would be like if it were run by these generous little boys.

(And no, The Lord of the Flies didn’t cross my mind until later.)

Da Da

1 Comment

Today Clifford said, “Da da.”

When I repeated it he squealed with delight and said it again and again. He was in da da heaven.

Since he’s not been much of a babbler, it was a nice surprise. It was so deliberate. He’s nine-months on Friday. Blink. Where did that time go? Just like that — from swaddled baby to full-fledged communicator.

Lillian, on the other hand, announced that if I didn’t give her pop with lunch not only would she not eat her lunch, and she would never be nice again. So much for my maternal yearning for communication skills.

Needless to say, she did not eat her lunch (yet, it’s still sitting there) and the verdict is still out on the nice thing.  I think she’s already forgotten about that threat.

The funny thing is, we don’t even have any pop in the house.  Now she’ll be eating rubbery, twice-warmed tortillas because of her very deliberate communication.

All I can say is: da da. Or duh, duh … eat your cheesy roll-up.

Hard Core

2 Comments

Someone referred to our family as “hard core” Catholic when we were at a party this weekend.

Hard core is usually found modifying other choice words, and I’m pretty sure Catholic isn’t one of them. I had to chuckle. Actually, when I started this post, then went back to edit it, my parental controls blocked me. That made me chuckle again.

I couldn’t help but reflect on what makes us worthy of such a description. I don’t sport a mantilla, the girls wear pants, we consider ourselves rather hip. (And now I suppose even contemplating our hipness has knocked us down a few notches.) Henry plays the drums and beat-boxes like a madman. We love Harry Potter and Santa and let the kids dress up as goblins and the like for Halloween.

Okay, we homeschool a Catholic and classical curriculum. But we also gleefully read the Diary of a Wimpy kid. We block out a majority of commercial television and record the Duggars, but we also regularly watch Mythbusters, Dirty Jobs and What Not to Wear. Our favorite family movies are It’s a Wonderful Life and the story of St. Therese of Lisieux, but we can’t get enough of the slapstick mayhem in Home Alone, What’s Up Doc, Nacho Libre and Kicking and Screaming. We love to sing in church, but I also love Lenny Kravitz, Ani DiFranco, Queen and old David Bowie. Go figure.

And yes, we have five children. But that’s only one more than four — and we know many people with four.

After a little more contemplation and some discussion, the only things Richard and I could think of that earned us that moniker are that we pray together (and apart), we still regularly go to church and we try (as much as our imperfect selves can) to teach to our children how to live and love our faith. We try our hardest to help them see this world through the lens of our faith (instead of the opposite), to love one another and to serve — all in the name of Christ. Which hopefully makes our cores not so hard but much more loving.

Jesse is a friend

Leave a comment

A few years back we made a Jesse Tree to use as part of our advent preparation. I believe I said something like, “So help me, we’re going to have a holy advent if it kills me.” So my dear spouse fashioned the tree. Helen decorated the ornaments, I tied ribbons and hot glued and our tree grew from wooden dowels and discs into a much-treasured family tradition.

Starting on the first day of advent, we read daily scripture that tells of the genealogy of  Jesus. Then we hang a little ornament on the tree. It’s similar to an advent countdown, but with a scriptural focus.

Jesse is a friend.

This is our fourth year, so the readings are familiar to the older children. Henry can’t wait to hear about Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice Isaac and the stories of destruction–especially the serpent in the Garden of Eden and the great flood. Mary Claire takes charge and organizes our nightly gathering and does most of the reading or designates a reader.

I’m especially eager this year for the readings about the birth of Jesus because Lillian is all about the nativity. We’ve been reading books and are frequently talking about the birth of Christ. We make special efforts to stop and admire all the outdoor nativity scenes that adorn the local landscape. (Because if we don’t, I’ll never hear the end of it from my 30-pound back-seat driver.) And every time she sees an angel she folds her hands in prayer and says solemnly, “And the angel of the Lord said, hail Mary, full of grace.” I look forward to her recognizing those same stories as we gather as a family and read from our Bible, counting down another day closer to Christmas.

The best part about the Jesse Tree is that it brings us together nightly. It’s a series of quiet (okay, not always quiet) moments that have turned into memories we will treasure. And those memories are centered where they should be — around Christ.

War of the Rosaries

Leave a comment

We put saying the rosary on our calendar.  That sounds like it takes away some of the romance of our relationship with God. But like any good relationship, there is work involved. You have to make time for each other. The truth is God always makes time for us, we’re the slackers. So that’s why that rosary deserves an entry on our calendar. Actually two.

Sundays and Tuesdays are Rosary days.

Imagine this, I call the children, singing their names: Perpetua, John Paul, Benedict, Agnes, Damien. I’m blinded by the streaking light of their bouncing halos  as they jump to their knees, eyes toward Heaven …

Okay. It’s nothing like that.

The plan is to gather the kids and pray together as a loving family of God. It’s just that sometimes the loving part of the plan is foiled when expectations aren’t met and someone is late, or the little kids are more rambunctious than usual, or a certain teenager who has the ability to stay up until the wee hours starts to fade by the end of the second decade, or a dear little baby complains through the whole thing.

But still, we do our best to follow through. We say intentions for people and causes, we end up laughing at least once or twice (because if we didn’t, we’d go insane). And we get through that Rosary, always grateful that we took the time. By the end I’m often looking forward to our next attempt and wondering if I’ll ever actually know the words to Hail Holy Queen.

Fostering love

5 Comments

Last week, we attended a Halloween party hosted by a lovely family. They have five children, seven and under. The house was decorated adorably, games were planned and played, even the food fed the theme.  All of that was great, but one moment made it the best party ever.

Tiffany, Blayne and their beautiful family.

Fostering Love

Our hostess was busy preparing her laptop to show the guests a video clip where her children’s faces were fit into a comical clip of the Monster Mash. As her computer loaded, it revealed a desktop photo of their baby getting baptized.

Her five-year-old son pointed to the photo, “That’s when Itty Bitty got dunked. When he got baptized. Right Mom?”

Through the busyness — waiting for the computer to finish booting up and the website to load — his mother affectionately smiled at him and said, “Yes, it is.”

Then he inquired, “Did the judge say we can keep Itty Bitty yet?”

She looked at him and said, “Not yet. Hopefully soon.”

Other adults in the room inquired about the status of the baby’s adoption. Postponements, future court dates were briefly mentioned. Then, that dear boy looked up at his mother and asked, “The judge said you can keep me, right?”

“Yes. We can keep you.” She reassured him. “The judge said we can keep you.”

He asked a few more times, interjecting his query Continue Reading »