tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54411302840755730752023-12-25T02:53:48.978-08:00SeasonsSeasonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09084388743756153109noreply@blogger.comBlogger249125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441130284075573075.post-15699659183949551422015-06-22T10:46:00.001-07:002015-06-22T10:46:44.771-07:00How Full is Your Glass?<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAnBxeUU_lMSPlMaFLYt7ZYrTkz0GdbFkTuURTqsRfDKVI7nPbMCKLQwslt7YHUUzGU3VWcmi15HEXiqyp101TIjG3pcEY-WmMJmqcHIwUDwwUgiTWqbLgSTL9uQ4BcuoKfD2UK-h2q25c/s1600/summer+2015+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAnBxeUU_lMSPlMaFLYt7ZYrTkz0GdbFkTuURTqsRfDKVI7nPbMCKLQwslt7YHUUzGU3VWcmi15HEXiqyp101TIjG3pcEY-WmMJmqcHIwUDwwUgiTWqbLgSTL9uQ4BcuoKfD2UK-h2q25c/s320/summer+2015+002.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cecilia, age 5-1/2, is an awesome big sister!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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So, June has been quite a month for me! In the past three weeks, I have started not one, but two, part-time jobs. They are VERY part-time, but I'm excited for the opportunities that they are affording me. Namely, a little bit of money (which is very helpful), a chance to be with other adults, and a break from the dinner-bedtime routine (no sitter needed as I'm only working when Daddy is home) a few times a week!<br />
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I worked at a "welcome summer" festival on Saturday night serving beer at a classy new brewery in town. I loved everything about it! (And, it helps that I happen to love beer!). As I had random conversations with my fellow server and the patrons (most of whom where in a great mood as they were enjoying a lovely afternoon out), I felt alive in a way that I haven't felt in years.<br />
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Of course, I've been very much alive the past almost nine years as a stay-at-home mother. I have countless priceless memories stored up in my heart, and I wouldn't trade any of it. Even the challenges have brought me much closer to God, emotionally stronger, more adaptable to situations, and grateful for all of my blessings.<br />
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But...<br />
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There was something about being with strangers at a festival on a very humid (eventually stormy, thus suddenly ending the festival!) day in June that made me feel...happy (and younger...although I often reflect on how good it feels to be (almost!) 40). I remembered how I enjoyed waiting tables in past seasons of my life. Not because of the co-workers, mind you, but because of the customers. I enjoy making small talk with people. And, it is quite a nice feeling when those people thank you for your service and smile at you as they put a dollar or two in a tip jar (for pouring a drink, really? With six young children, I am really good at pouring drinks!). :)<br />
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The whole experience made me feel more...likable. Now, don't get me wrong. I KNOW that I am loved. The fact that God even thought of creating me is enough love to ponder for a lifetime. I am blessed to still hear my parents tell me that they love me every week, my spouse shows his love for me and our children daily (no words needed), and my children are at an age where the words, "I love you," roll easily off their little tongues. And then, there are friendships that are dear.<br />
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But, I have been in my kitchen for almost nine years. Besides the daily trips to preschool, the grocery store, and the playdates (which have been God sends, mind you!), I have wondered what it would feel like to return to the "other" world. Would I be good at anything? Would people still like me?<br />
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For four hours and 15 minutes on Saturday afternoon (before the storm closed up shop in an instant!), the answer was a refreshing, "yes"!<br />
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I am hoping and praying that the jobs will continue to work out for the employers, me, and our family.<br />
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Another positive side effect of the job happened the following morning. Because I had not seen my kids the previous evening, I was actually happy to get back to my routine. And, as the 4-year-old screamed for an hour (no lie) because his cereal had gotten too soggy (and meanie that I am, I insisted that he still eat his breakfast!) and the 3-year-old rejected every.piece.of.clothing that she owns, I really started to look forward to my next shift. ;)<br />
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Cheers!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirGVXULbfeDPa47r8vMLHopE4oPYhCqjrZfSjBpr8p9PgO4LI42tP6sXzA5VyP7hL0mO5GTRQ_ru9DMrPWhb6-5FMpu3uH4qYXnMSNYAl4yUhqZ5TvYnDw605F622QdEVhoa3hgnVoo_NP/s1600/summer+2015+007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirGVXULbfeDPa47r8vMLHopE4oPYhCqjrZfSjBpr8p9PgO4LI42tP6sXzA5VyP7hL0mO5GTRQ_ru9DMrPWhb6-5FMpu3uH4qYXnMSNYAl4yUhqZ5TvYnDw605F622QdEVhoa3hgnVoo_NP/s320/summer+2015+007.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So grateful for the man in the middle! The kids couldn't wait to give him his Father's Day gift!</td></tr>
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<br />Seasonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09084388743756153109noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441130284075573075.post-91265550678017022592015-06-09T11:13:00.000-07:002015-06-09T11:15:27.819-07:00Wanted: More Zeal!<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b>Watch over with zeal and patience that portion of the Lord’s vineyard </b></i></div>
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<i><b>that has been entrusted to you!</b></i></div>
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<i><b>--Pope Francis</b></i></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKw7631Ud3I6f62nP0CPZdaWW7INT3CrisULfQPmJZiQvS1vloi9zKtOuWcz5Z8rNnrPtfH8VTc0ZaOW1DBKB-Xkto9CGlVbLx1IzbhUOuZdbLLNSJT3Wu1Tdvrkm0-BvcyOy0vKLl6F8w/s1600/spring+2015+008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKw7631Ud3I6f62nP0CPZdaWW7INT3CrisULfQPmJZiQvS1vloi9zKtOuWcz5Z8rNnrPtfH8VTc0ZaOW1DBKB-Xkto9CGlVbLx1IzbhUOuZdbLLNSJT3Wu1Tdvrkm0-BvcyOy0vKLl6F8w/s320/spring+2015+008.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My beautiful Cecilia in her spring dance recital! Gianna picked out a red rose for Cecilia ROSE!</td></tr>
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Something happens to me every mid-April (well, since around 2009, that is). I start having panic attacks about summer. Instead of enjoying the beautiful spring weather (although I do appreciate that I can send my kids outside again!), I start to feel very anxious and tense knowing that summer vacation is right around the corner. </div>
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For the record, I do like spending time with my children. They are my greatest treasures and a great cause of my joy. But when I am responsible for taking care of every.single.need (including entertainment!) for six children for hours and days on end...even the thought of it makes me go a little batty! My rational brain knows that it'll be okay, but I fear that the transition might take my last bit of sanity.</div>
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I pray about it...a lot! And, I occasionally feel the fruits immediately. Other times, I wonder why in the world the Holy Spirit is letting me experience such ridiculous, overwhelming moments without rushing to my rescue!!! My 8-year-old daughter, Gianna, recently told me that she wished Mary would appear to her. I've been thinking that for years...it would be so much easier to have a conversation with Mary (or Jesus) instead of trying to explain all my mixed feelings and emotions to the clouds! :)</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI_2N_7NCDHCCrE7iKi4em_c-QCUXVIlqL2xe885ddQG6y9_2Lctv_uiVYe5qCnunJSMY5LDGEayC5AgJP6zYVLfXSKXW-eorSO08-LSlYs_wABTmnJzYMW0T4HCv5oh6K1tpLTiR61IJx/s1600/spring+2015+012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI_2N_7NCDHCCrE7iKi4em_c-QCUXVIlqL2xe885ddQG6y9_2Lctv_uiVYe5qCnunJSMY5LDGEayC5AgJP6zYVLfXSKXW-eorSO08-LSlYs_wABTmnJzYMW0T4HCv5oh6K1tpLTiR61IJx/s320/spring+2015+012.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here's my "baby"...I just love that she's growing up!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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So, here I am writing this on my third full day of summer vacation with the kids! I felt a strong urge to write today, so perhaps I'll write more to stay sane during these endless summer days!</div>
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I randomly found the quote above on Facebook today. Pope Francis just said it to some bishops yesterday...but it really resonated with me. My house is my "portion of the Lord's vineyard." What a great privilege and blessing that the Lord has entrusted it to me. I often feel like the vineyard is a complete disaster...messes everywhere, people being mean to one another, chaos, and disorder. But, I do not need to be discouraged.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA3gvPc09je78-FrWlBqMR2uqRKJSNPAvcxGBZUMLltAn3jC8os1sU96oDjqn4C0HxIh1IfGWI8dx2nmgbL9uXqCv9NrBW6a0LqEkeWgv5WGkWu4dZrjayIGlOh6BwNaJU1MD4EJlSw6LM/s1600/spring+2015+013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA3gvPc09je78-FrWlBqMR2uqRKJSNPAvcxGBZUMLltAn3jC8os1sU96oDjqn4C0HxIh1IfGWI8dx2nmgbL9uXqCv9NrBW6a0LqEkeWgv5WGkWu4dZrjayIGlOh6BwNaJU1MD4EJlSw6LM/s320/spring+2015+013.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love her innocence, smile, and laughter! Lucy, age 3</td></tr>
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Instead, I can pray for more patience and more zeal! While I'm at it, I'll ask for more energy, more affordable/kid friendly activities that I can bring all my children to, less fighting, more contentment and peace, less anxiety, and a greater appreciation of ALL seasons of this short life. Amen. </div>
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Happy Summer :).</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look at what happened in my husband's new hanging flower pot! It's on our front porch and the kids have a front row seat to God's beautiful nature!</td></tr>
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Seasonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09084388743756153109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441130284075573075.post-68253742376404286522015-05-13T10:57:00.000-07:002015-05-13T10:57:10.858-07:00New Life...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5okQqo3LX5a3BjoySIn32dNx1XpbgyCrtzI0ej-UakxngGyL5LzivAau5k6PwrNsBysJvlma5bxJOAX0CoDcR0-DnCRKNbNW3c78TRg193Yd5J81Y9iXceP0KcFjyha2d9Mjs-Wijrqhg/s1600/spring+2015+005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5okQqo3LX5a3BjoySIn32dNx1XpbgyCrtzI0ej-UakxngGyL5LzivAau5k6PwrNsBysJvlma5bxJOAX0CoDcR0-DnCRKNbNW3c78TRg193Yd5J81Y9iXceP0KcFjyha2d9Mjs-Wijrqhg/s320/spring+2015+005.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nana and Lucy</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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We are having a wonderful spring. I can't believe how busy May is with all the sports practices and games, end-of-year shows and recitals, etc. I love it though! As usual, I am very nervous for June 4th which is the last day of school. I am praying for the grace to appreciate and enjoy each and every day...even when there are 90 days (or whatever!) off of school...in a row...lol!<br />
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Lucy is 3 now. And, for perhaps the first time (sorry to say!), I am really enjoying this age! Of course, I loved and enjoyed my other children at age 3, but the meltdowns, tantrums, and stubbornness are all too present in my memories!<br />
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Lucy has those moments too, but (perhaps) I have learned to deal with them better. I am usually able to redirect and make everything good in her world again (go me..5th times a charm!).<br />
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And, she makes me laugh! Her innocence and love of simple things is contagious. The other day we driving on a street that we drive on every day (several times a day). When we were stopped at a light, she looked to the right and she saw some geese that are kept at a landscaping company (not sure why they have geese, but anyway!). Suddenly, Lucy was laughing hysterically. Of course, I joined in, not knowing why!<br />
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Then I learned it was because, "Geese do not drive cars!" I guess the thought of a goose in the driver's seat was just too much! And, it was a thought that made us both happy. I'm glad she shared. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSlRy24JO6hlFdtHKfOCaRy659UM_dnSz1mQCT-RA9JfmjxV2pZsx2hHEQr6V_OkEIYw_XiqT-qfK_pE6QNomeDCqXOb3-q-1Um1A_MCk7MqGPUtULsLA5gsWSrMSXNpDEDIbnIZHAS7MS/s1600/010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSlRy24JO6hlFdtHKfOCaRy659UM_dnSz1mQCT-RA9JfmjxV2pZsx2hHEQr6V_OkEIYw_XiqT-qfK_pE6QNomeDCqXOb3-q-1Um1A_MCk7MqGPUtULsLA5gsWSrMSXNpDEDIbnIZHAS7MS/s320/010.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My beautiful oldest on one of the most special days of her life!</td></tr>
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I am also enjoying Gianna, age 8-1/2-year-old, more than usual. It could very well be because I am praying more. I haven't been blogging, but I have spent many an afternoon in prayer asking for all the graces that I need for this crazy journey! Today is May 13th, Feast of Our Lady of Fatima, so I should get off the computer to say my Rosary!<br />
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Gianna made her First Communion on Saturday. It was so beautiful to watch my oldest child receive this Sacrament. As I planned in my head what to tell her about the Eucharist, I was reminded myself of how much I am loved. I pray that her new life in Christ will transform her life!<br />
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Happy spring friends :).Seasonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09084388743756153109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441130284075573075.post-87812231501097006012015-04-16T11:13:00.000-07:002015-04-16T11:13:12.879-07:00Eight is Enough<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I was the oldest of four children (well, I still am!). As a child, I was always well-behaved, and I modeled excellent behavior for my younger siblings. Even though we were very close in age (2-1/2-years between my youngest brother and me with twins in the middle), I knew that my mother counted on me to set the example...so I accepted the responsibility with grace and maturity from a young age.<br />
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At least this is how I remember things ;). Please note, I did not interview my mother before writing this post!<br />
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Because I was so angelic (until middle school...then I'm very grateful that anyone loved me!), I expect my oldest, who is also a girl with younger siblings very close in age, to shine in good behavior. And, in fact, according to her teachers, she does just this in school! And, I am very grateful that she stands out as a "great kid" in sports, Girl Scouts, and everything else, as well.<br />
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But, when I take her out, for example to Target with her younger siblings, we tend to have major issues. I don't even think she realizes it, but she immediately starts imitating the behaviors of her younger siblings (whining, meltdowns when I won't buy something, complaining about walking instead of riding in a cart, you name it!). And, I get much more frustrated with her than I do with the younger kids because, after all, she should know better!<br />
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Just yesterday, she was home sick from school. She wasn't so sick that she had to stay home in bed, so I ran a few errands when her brother was at preschool. One stop was to AAA to get some brochures. While I waited to be helped, we (my daughter and her two young sisters, ages 3 and 1) browsed in the little store.<br />
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There was a life-sized monkey propped up in a window display. He was wearing a safari hat and was balanced in a very odd position. I thought it went without saying, but I said it anyway. "Please do not touch the monkey." I was directing this to the 3-year-old, but maybe I should have been more specific.<br />
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A moment later, I was being helped by a kind associate. My oldest daughter walked away because she decided it would be a great idea to let her younger sisters hold/give a hug to the monkey. What the? Really? Never mind that the monkey was much larger than my 1-year-old.<br />
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I spent the next few moments mortified as we tried to get the monkey back in its spot (much easier said than done!). I settled for a kinda leaning monkey holding his hat in his lap...and got out of there.. without making eye contact with anyone...fast!<br />
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I started lecturing as soon as I started the car. I didn't stop until I felt better. After all the excuses stopped, she simply said, "I'm sorry Mom, but 8-year-olds aren't perfect."<br />
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Ouch. Suddenly 8 sounded like a small number. Certainly not an age worthy of my very high standards. She should have standards for sure, but I wondered how is it serving either of us if she's never allowing her to behave like a child without my quick judgment and correction.<br />
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This certainly isn't the first time that I've had such a realization. It's just that when one's kids are 8, 7, 5, 4, 3, and 1, one is anxious for someone...anyone...to be able to hold it together and survive a 10-minute trip to the store without drama! Ironically, usually the 5- and 3-year-olds are quite good, so maybe I can afford to give the 8-year-old a (very small) break?! And, in this instance at least, she wasn't trying to defy me, but rather to be kind to her sisters.<br />
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I need to remind myself (daily, sometimes hourly) that my oldest daughter is still a child who deserves to be a child (lest I blink and she's 18!). I constantly pray for extra graces in my dealings with her, as I need to treat her as the precious individual that she is...not the "model" that I want her/need her to be. <br />
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Tonight she had so much fun putting on the same pajamas as her younger sister. Never mind that they're Christmas pajamas in April! I loved hearing the giggles and childlike joy of two young children. For a moment, I realized that my oldest was not doing what I asked her to do. Namely, a laundry list of chores like getting her clothes ready for the next day, finishing her homework, and brushing her teeth.<br />
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But, watching a child enjoy a silly, carefree moment without the pressure of her mother telling her to hurry up and grow up already... <br />
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Priceless! Chores will always be there, but sweet moments with my young children will not. I'm glad I didn't blow it (this time!).<br />
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<b><i>God, please give me all the graces that I need to treat each of my children with patience and love. Amen.</i></b><br />
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<br />Seasonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09084388743756153109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441130284075573075.post-41065085533608024482015-03-11T11:03:00.001-07:002015-03-11T11:03:39.355-07:00The Best Piece... <img alt="Image result for valentine's day, heart, pixabay pictures" class="rg_i" data-src="https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSFsew1x_ZMiGMq1KCLLIj0BQfw76cFFHuFkjn9wzANoo3i-PtHqQ" data-sz="f" height="264" name="1KKw0FTF-LnJDM:" src="https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSFsew1x_ZMiGMq1KCLLIj0BQfw76cFFHuFkjn9wzANoo3i-PtHqQ" style="height: 167px; margin-left: -3px; margin-right: -3px; margin-top: 0px; width: 253px;" width="400" /><br />
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Here's my February post to catholicmom.com. Thanks for stopping by! I apologize for the lack of writing. My lack of free time to do what I want to do is very hard on me these days...but, I know that God wants me to pay attention to my little ones rather than what I choose. Some days are easier than others :).<br />
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I decided in early February that I now hate Valentine's Day. Now, I really don't mind a day focused on loving others... <br />
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It's just that this year, I have five young children in school. And, one of those children is in two different preschool classes. So, this means I (er...I mean, my children!) had six different classes (and 7 teachers) to prepare valentines for. And, gone are days when a little card is enough! Each valentine needs an accompanying "gift." Since we are on a tight budget, I got the biggest bag of dum-dum lollipops that I could find and called it a day!<br />
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The writing of the valentine's took several stressful afternoons. My 7 and 8-year-olds were fairly independent...after I printed out their class lists, helped them sort out the cards to have the proper number of "girl" and "boy" cards, and attached the stickers and tattoos. My 5-year-old was semi-independent. But, I had to do the whole job for the almost-3 and 4-year-olds...with a 1-year-old grabbing my leg desperately wanting to be included in the activity! Not to mention that there were six parties which required me to send in food. Enough...<br />
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As I was doing the dinner dishes the night of all the Valentine's Day parties, I was feeling relieved that it was all over. The children were delighted with their valentines, and I had run around behind them throwing away candy wrappers and broken trinkets. The house was pretty much back in order, and there was the potential of a return to "normal" (which is plenty crazy on its own!). <br />
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Then my 1st grader, Joseph, approached me. He had something in his hands and I could tell that he was very excited to give it to me. I noticed that it was a valentine as I quickly dried my hands. I remembered that I had never cleaned out the papers from his book bag that afternoon (my regular habit) as I had been obsessed with wiping out all signs of Valentine's Day. I would've found the valentine sooner if I had done that. But, then I might not have had this moment...<br />
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On the front was a big heart that had been created with little crumpled up pieces of tissue paper. It read, "I love you to pieces." On the back, he had written in his 1st grade handwriting and spelling the answer to several questions. For example, " I love it when you..."make my bed." I love it when you..."take me on vakashun (vacation)." The first answers were totally appropriate for a 7-year-old boy. <br />
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But then I read the last question. It read, I want to go with you to ____. Joseph wrote, I want to go with you to "hevin" (heaven).<br />
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Tears stung my eyes as I held him tight. He struggled to get out of my embrace and go back to playing. But, I was totally refreshed and renewed. My burdens felt light. The nagging voice that reminds me of all the ways that I'm failing was silenced. I was happy and peaceful.<br />
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Could he possibly have written a better answer? I could not think of a single solitary thing. He nailed the whole meaning of life. He wants to go to heaven!!! Every mother's prayer came to my lips: God help my sweet boy to always have the light to know and grace to do. Please protect him from all illness and accidents. Please grant him a long life doing your will. And, then to heaven for eternity.<br />
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After all, doesn't everything I do...a hundred children's valentines included...come back to this? My entire life's purpose: To get my husband and children to heaven (and please God, myself)!<br />
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I've decided that I really love Valentine's Day! And, that really rolls off the tongue since I'm writing this on February 15th!<br />
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<br />Seasonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09084388743756153109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441130284075573075.post-51917706273275700392015-01-30T11:35:00.002-08:002015-01-30T11:38:27.807-08:00Not the norm...I was reading a "smell the roses" article on Facebook the other day. It was the usual about how fast our kids grow up and how we must really savor the small things that will be gone before we know it. The author had a list of things that she wishes that she could remember. For example, what her son's bedroom looked like when he was 7. This one stayed with me because my older son turned 7 just last week...and, his bedroom is nothing spectacular (but I do love the innocence of the toys...like piles of well-loved stuffed animals...I know that I will miss this stage)!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lucy, age 2-1/2, is little Miss Independent these days! She loves to pick her clothes!!!</td></tr>
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Her conclusion, however, was that she misses the "everyday" stuff the most, you know, the seemingly mundane things that make up the seconds, minutes, hours, days, and years. When I read something like this, it hits me...and this time was no exception. I resolved, until I came to my senses again, to really treasure (and memorize, lest I forget) the nitty-gritty of a typical day.</div>
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It lasted about an hour...or, until the baby woke up from her nap, Justin (age 4) and Lucy (age 2) started getting on each other's nerves (again), and the three older kids got off the bus and sprinted into the house leaving a trail of backpacks, shoes, gloves, and homework assignments behind them. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Teresa gets some morning cuddles before the kids go out to the bus!</td></tr>
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BREATHE, I thought. Don't try to store up any memories, just breathe. Say a quick Hail Mary and ready, set, GO. It was time to do what I do best...create a semblance of order while attempting to meet everyone's needs.</div>
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And then I came to my own conclusion (again!). It is this: I would probably do best to forget the "everyday" stuff and instead, to let the special moments shine brightly in my mind and heart! </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1usJQHzgH2D7P_MVR8Uvu8FQ_bd-7wYrhH7EfQ-0K8RrNrfYbiU4r7y8Ii-5kIuw3rODPNdx-diC-ZR4BubVZ2tJ0faKGWoJpZHAAvZEdTjErfwGA0ujD1TzlgW1uYqe2YVN6i6IEbk7N/s1600/joseph's%2Bb-day%2B006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1usJQHzgH2D7P_MVR8Uvu8FQ_bd-7wYrhH7EfQ-0K8RrNrfYbiU4r7y8Ii-5kIuw3rODPNdx-diC-ZR4BubVZ2tJ0faKGWoJpZHAAvZEdTjErfwGA0ujD1TzlgW1uYqe2YVN6i6IEbk7N/s1600/joseph's%2Bb-day%2B006.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The "birthday buds" doing crafts together!</td></tr>
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Because, at least for me, normal is crazy intense! I don't think my brain could store much without short-circuiting! I try my best, but at any given time, someone is melting, whining, fighting, crying, and/or complaining. Of course, what keeps me going is God's grace, gratitude, and all the unexpected blessings that happen in the midst of all this chaos. At the end of the day, I could (if I had an ounce of energy left) fill a page of the blessings of the day!!! But, I don't think it would contain any "routine" moments (such as getting dressed, meals, bedtime, etc.) because they tend to bring out the worst in all of us (me included!) these days!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH1FDAefRMjKI0LKUms964LTKb2lFeksyoNkh-DMcPyaGn3wXPCzwCn0DeWmlI9nyvY3zJpM9lZxA8fsPraygUnyBoPGHEYJsRNlF8sFMSRBZXG1vIreg-x8dsSwv4N96lzAupxi__1WoL/s1600/joseph's%2Bb-day%2B002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH1FDAefRMjKI0LKUms964LTKb2lFeksyoNkh-DMcPyaGn3wXPCzwCn0DeWmlI9nyvY3zJpM9lZxA8fsPraygUnyBoPGHEYJsRNlF8sFMSRBZXG1vIreg-x8dsSwv4N96lzAupxi__1WoL/s1600/joseph's%2Bb-day%2B002.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A birthday hug for little brother! The other little brother is not welcome in the picture!<br />
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Here's to ""survival" mode! Maybe I'll advance to "smell the roses" mode tomorrow ;).<br />
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Seasonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09084388743756153109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441130284075573075.post-90464750365036015052014-12-16T10:52:00.002-08:002014-12-16T10:52:26.520-08:00Right where I'm supposed to be....Don't have time to blog today, but I thought I'd share this piece that I wrote for Catholic365.com a few weeks back. Their site has wonderful material on it if you're interested! Have a blessed day!<br />
<div class="title" style="-webkit-transition: font-size 0.2s; background-color: #fbfbfb; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: 'Open Sans', sans-serif; font-size: 32px; line-height: 31.9200000762939px; margin-bottom: 18px; transition: font-size 0.2s;">
<span style="line-height: 31.9200000762939px;">Right where I'm supposed to be!</span></div>
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<a href="http://www.catholic365.com/author/trish-bolster/" style="background: transparent; box-sizing: border-box; color: #999999; text-decoration: none;">BY TRISH BOLSTER<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />12/4/2014 8:02:00 PM</a></div>
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Photo Credit: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/cadencrawford/8344048410/" style="background: transparent; box-sizing: border-box; color: #428bca; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Flickr/Caden Crawford</a></div>
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"Can I help you with that?" asked a friendly older gentlemen. I normally say "no" when strangers ask to help me, as I like to carry on the pretense that I've got it all together! However, on this ridiculously windy day, I wasn't going to say "no".</div>
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I thought it would be more fun for my very young toddler if she "drove the car" in the grocery store. She had done it the week before with her sister, an older toddler, and she thought it was marvelous. It turns out that she doesn't like it nearly as much when she's the only driver! I gave up after a few aisles of getting-louder crying, and when sympathetic glances towards my daughter turned into, "how could you?" looks towards me! So, that left me holding the child while trying to steer a full, very hard to navigate, over-sized kiddie cart with one hand. Fabulous!</div>
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As I was ungracefully loading the groceries into my minivan (and praying that the shopping cart car wouldn't take off in the wind!), the man ran across the parking lot to offer assistance. He started loading the bags into the trunk when I got the baby into her car seat. I thanked him over and over, and he said, "Oh, of course! You reminded me of my wife many years ago."</div>
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He went on to tell me that they have seven children. I said, "Oh wow! We have six." The next part of the conversation was so lovely. I believe that God put this man ever-so-briefly in my life.</div>
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"Aren't they a blessing?" he asked. The scene of my 8-year-old pouting and stomping her feet while refusing to go to school that morning flashed before my eyes. "Yes," I said enthusiastically. My baby started to fuss...er, "Absolutely!"</div>
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The man continued, "You know, you see people doing all these other things, but my children have always brought me the greatest joy." I wished him a Happy Thanksgiving as he wheeled the silly shopping cart back to the store for me.</div>
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As I drove away, all I could think about were the "other things" that people were doing. What a coincidence (or not?) that he had said this, as I've really been struggling with this lately. Most of my closest friends, all of them mothers to young children themselves, are moving on. Last year, they were always available for last minute play dates (with lots of coffee!). If I woke up without plans, I would simply send out an e-mail or two, and my day (or week) would be planned. It was a full and happy life. It was utterly chaotic and ridiculously unpredictable, but I loved being a stay-at-home mom.</div>
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This year is quite different, and I'll admit that it's hitting me kind of hard. The change came because most of my friends' "babies" are in preschool at least three or four mornings (we used to do afternoon play dates too, but homework and sports killed that!) a week. And, this frees them up for "other things." Granted, they are not the most exciting other things...there's a lot of volunteering in older children's classrooms, PTO projects, going to the gym, very part-time jobs, and enjoying child-free shopping. But, for me, it means that my once go-to friends have moved on. </div>
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There are two mornings a week that I actually have five children in school! But, that still leaves my precious, very attached 13-month-old who loves to explore her world. This excludes me from just about...everything (besides play dates and toddler classes)! I know that I could go out and meet new friends, but this seems like too much effort on most days.</div>
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I am feeling so ready to move on to "other things" too. After two years of infertility, my husband and I welcomed each and every blessing...even the surprises...with total joy and trust in the good Lord's plan for our family. Even though this is counter-cultural, we know that God's plan will lead to our joy and (hopefully) salvation. Furthermore, I would not trade being a stay-at-home mom for anything in the world. I realize that I am lucky and that many women would love this opportunity to be with their children. </div>
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But, recognizing and appreciating your blessings doesn't mean that you don't sometimes feel a little sad...or a little left behind, in my case. It helps to remember how Jesus must have felt when his friends weren't there for him. Not that my friends have deserted me...rather, they are just on to the next stage of motherhood! God willing, I'll get there...and much sooner than seems possible in these years of long (read: long) days and short years!</div>
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In the mean time, I'm grateful for the parking lot reminder that other things aren't always what they're cracked up to be. And, all of the joy came rushing back as I backed up my minivan and caught the smile of one of my greatest blessings! There will be always be other things, but there won't always be the blessings of this day.</div>
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Seasonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09084388743756153109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441130284075573075.post-3159354826100447162014-12-12T11:28:00.002-08:002014-12-12T11:31:12.015-08:00Come with me!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMuSn-tL8GOESThb4Lfd40x0FQvRHFt_Fhzg69xn1b12xIIlOPUe6RPj62jwfETvzmsZfBTUKbaf0EqTkZfXtBggOzzGWHiVO80QkISEL3j3nJYMn1ehzR5Wwkn-4lz98X-e4LHbk5oyjm/s1600/christmas+show+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMuSn-tL8GOESThb4Lfd40x0FQvRHFt_Fhzg69xn1b12xIIlOPUe6RPj62jwfETvzmsZfBTUKbaf0EqTkZfXtBggOzzGWHiVO80QkISEL3j3nJYMn1ehzR5Wwkn-4lz98X-e4LHbk5oyjm/s1600/christmas+show+001.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Handsome and beautiful for the Christmas show! It looks like Cecilia has too much lipstick on, but in reality, <br />
her lips are just very chapped!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Last night my husband and I were lounging on the couch after the kids were in bed. He said that he would like to go to Mass this morning for Our Lady of Guadalupe Feast Day. He was thinking of going to the 8:30 a.m. Mass at our parish, which happens to be the school Mass (so our older kids would be there).<br />
<br />
I was instantly sad for two reasons. Number one, if you read this blog, you might remember that I have a very special devotion to Our Lady of Guadalupe. Her picture is in our hallway and I stop to talk to her often. I wanted to go to Mass too!<br />
<br />
Number two, it meant that I would be left trying to get three kids (and me) ready and out the door for preschool by myself. This isn't a big deal, but it sure is nice to have an extra set of hands (usually my husband sticks around a little after the big kids get on the bus at 8 a.m. so I have a few minutes to get myself ready).<br />
<br />
When I expressed the first reason to my husband (I kept the second reason to myself...this is my job as a stay-at-home mom...I'm sure that he has things that he doesn't like about his job too!), he simply said, "Come with me."<br />
<br />
"Really!?!" I felt like asking him if he was nuts. We take all six children to Mass every Sunday, and it's less than fun (especially for me as I usually end up in the narthex with Lucy and Teresa). And this week, we went to Mass on Monday for the Immaculate Conception (with the three little kids as the big kids went to Mass at school)...the mishaps of that Mass were still fresh in my mind. Plus, it would be a rat race trying to get everyone out by 8:20 a.m.<br />
<br />
"Really!?!"<br />
<br />
I quickly decided that it would be good for me to go to Mass on such a special day. The benefits could greatly outweigh the hardships. Maybe the Eucharist would give me the grace and strength that I've been seeking this week (Teresa is kinda/sorta/not really weaning and it's making a mess of my hormones!). Plus, it felt nice to be invited somewhere. Even if it just was by my husband!<br />
<br />
Mass was...as expected. I left very early with a screaming toddler who promptly took shaky steps right into the wall...and screamed even louder with a new goose egg. Lucy thought it was fabulous to go and out of the church door (it is much too crowded on Sunday's to play this fun game). I missed the Consecration so Lucy could spend some "I think I have to go" time on the potty.<br />
<br />
But, I was there. And, the blessings, graces, and strength are coming (I just don't feel them yet...but that's faith, right!?!).<br />
<br />
Wishing you a beautiful blessed Advent. I have very little time to write these days, but thanks for stopping by! Our Lady of Guadalupe, pray for us :).<br />
<br />
<br />Seasonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09084388743756153109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441130284075573075.post-41778118298279521522014-12-03T11:56:00.001-08:002014-12-03T11:56:25.667-08:00The Shock...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9ywQTd3RYnN1mr8usbbFzKNlvhBaTIHbjLCyjOFFWtd0xkqJ9gnsdRzZq_9TTPXFpMARggNMFv-uI1Hv9gNB-JLje7m2uETGnUojzExS4YmkYfFAmhplbPHpUCxJ9ecglzMfeBqDmuM6m/s1600/late+fall+2014+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9ywQTd3RYnN1mr8usbbFzKNlvhBaTIHbjLCyjOFFWtd0xkqJ9gnsdRzZq_9TTPXFpMARggNMFv-uI1Hv9gNB-JLje7m2uETGnUojzExS4YmkYfFAmhplbPHpUCxJ9ecglzMfeBqDmuM6m/s1600/late+fall+2014+002.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I told Gianna to brush her hair and it turned into a sister's hair party...love it :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I started this post on Monday! Lucy stopped napping again, so writing just isn't happening...<br />
<br />
Anyway, there was no school on Monday because it was the first day of deer hunting (that's not a big deal where I grew up, but it is here in Pennsylvania!). Luckily, I had some place fun to go with the kids.<br />
<br />
Every year, my good friend Anna hosts a Toys for Tots (collecting new toys so unprivileged children will have something to open on Christmas morning) party on this day. It has grown from a handful of kids in her playroom to quite an event! It was held in the big fellowship hall at our preschool, and there was Zumba, Hershey characters, crafts, picture-taking stands, and tons of Christmas snacks. Everyone had a blast...and for such a great cause!!!<br />
<br />
Getting out the door to this party was complete chaos. I sadly watched my husband get dressed and leave for work. That left me with seven people to get together before we went anywhere. You'd think the older kids would get dressed (appropriately) when I asked them, right? Too much to ask? I guess so!<br />
<br />
Cecilia (age 5) and Lucy (age 2) actually love to dress themselves. And, if I let them pick their clothes...it's a win-win :). So, at least two out of seven were ready to go!<br />
<br />
The rest was a ridiculous struggle (because I had to feed them breakfast too...lol!). After asking Justin (age 4) nicely no less than five times to take off his pajamas and put on the clothes that I had laid out for him, I finally lost my cool.<br />
<br />
And, I'd be lying if I said that I regained it (my cool) before we left :). Somehow, everything happened and I sent the kids out to the minivan.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj60_fcha9OJFxUOMFEXQZKKBf97120mkrdwy-9qPIl9NrsTULgZfCqQOfPPO-ErSHXgfQJtXPJ6DH9iTl1mlAibRmdbSqh3TY1NxoKaEX68H2Jy7EU_ubEkA0clfNx3rqBN0UXyadbPVF3/s1600/DSC_0208+(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj60_fcha9OJFxUOMFEXQZKKBf97120mkrdwy-9qPIl9NrsTULgZfCqQOfPPO-ErSHXgfQJtXPJ6DH9iTl1mlAibRmdbSqh3TY1NxoKaEX68H2Jy7EU_ubEkA0clfNx3rqBN0UXyadbPVF3/s1600/DSC_0208+(1).JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Zumba instructor is helping Lucy bust a move (with a Hershey bar looking on!!!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I asked...not holding my breath, of course...that everyone get themselves strapped into their car seats (and/or help the little ones who needed help).<br />
<br />
I took the baby upstairs with me to brush my teeth. I assumed that I was going to open the garage door and find children gleefully playing. I was picturing Lucy in the driver's seat (she loves it there!), a few kids wandering around the front yard, and Daddy's yard tools (hanging in the garage) strewn about.<br />
<br />
Instead...to my complete and utter shock, I opened the door to the garage and found five children strapped into their car seats. And, no one was fighting. In fact, it was...silent.<br />
<br />
I just stared...and then I broke into a silly, goofy grin. I could feel my blood pressure returning to normal and my crankies melting away. Alleluia...someone had heard something that I said! And, not only heard it, but followed through!<br />
<br />
"Oh wow!" Joseph said. "We made Mom happy!"<br />
<br />
I asked if it was hard to make me happy. Joseph said, "Um...no...just get strapped into our seats." I said, "Actually, you did it the first time that I asked and without complaining."<br />
<br />
And, Mommy wanted to sing, hug each of them, say prayers of thanksgiving, and dance. :)<br />
<br />
I hoped it would sink in that I'm really not a cranky, scream-y, high stress, ready to explode Mommy...but I just get that way when I'm ignored (repeatedly). Lesson learned? <br />
<br />
NO.<br />
<br />
But, I'll call on that moment of opening that garage door often...because it means there is HOPE!!!!!<br />
<br />
Wishing you a beautiful and blessed Advent, friends! Thanks for reading!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTNPfbpQLJ8MQvdd4Ytzx1AqxLVpzJBILE0dzcXS1Y3FN4JMB1cSE9zuQGBizy2epJVjM8xvvbqhegmJ7K_u-BH9SSXicxbd5jEoai7uc1oFoFzc3ntSf713kfbmMY8MuOYQ3Plzr2EDes/s1600/late+fall+2014+008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTNPfbpQLJ8MQvdd4Ytzx1AqxLVpzJBILE0dzcXS1Y3FN4JMB1cSE9zuQGBizy2epJVjM8xvvbqhegmJ7K_u-BH9SSXicxbd5jEoai7uc1oFoFzc3ntSf713kfbmMY8MuOYQ3Plzr2EDes/s1600/late+fall+2014+008.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My sweet boys at the holiday train display at a downtown museum!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />Seasonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09084388743756153109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441130284075573075.post-91467107819748484722014-11-29T05:17:00.002-08:002014-11-29T05:17:54.889-08:00Marked Tardy<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8GMjswpQqhwEYBwVEkEiYhmcjcQU69lbv5Yh_L9ZULMtNrCc3R5v7ZKG4K_fcgFm5v37DD1hvYisoHlcoVSBI8KIMDqF95sWFTcPQGI41OAmeFSD6va0s3JGZMd0rSdIKEPgdPyA54ULq/s1600/P24.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8GMjswpQqhwEYBwVEkEiYhmcjcQU69lbv5Yh_L9ZULMtNrCc3R5v7ZKG4K_fcgFm5v37DD1hvYisoHlcoVSBI8KIMDqF95sWFTcPQGI41OAmeFSD6va0s3JGZMd0rSdIKEPgdPyA54ULq/s1600/P24.jpg" height="320" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My big 1-year-old :)</td></tr>
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This is my catholicmom.com piece for November if you missed it:<br />
<br />
"OH! No wonder you were late," said the pleasant nurse after I told her the ages of my children (she had asked). There was only one problem. And, really it wasn't a problem at all. Rather, it was just the slight wounding of my pride. <br />
<br />
"I wasn't late," I said a bit too harshly. "I was told to be here at 7 a.m., and I signed in at 7 a.m.!" She apologized and said that she hadn't noticed me in the waiting room (probably because I had taken the baby into the farthest corner so that she wouldn't disturb anyone!). I just smiled a fake smile.<br />
<br />
My baby had arrived at 7 a.m. to have a bilateral myringotomy...otherwise known as ear tubes! After months of chronic ear infections, I was relieved that a procedure would take away her pain (and perhaps mean more sleep for both of us!).<br />
<br />
Thank God, my prayers were answered and the short procedure was a success with no complications. Everyone was very competent, professional, and lovely to the baby. We were home by 8:30 a.m., and I could see the improvements in my baby immediately! All was great.<br />
<br />
A few days later, I got the evaluation in the mail. Was I happy with the service that I had received? Yes! If so, would I please send in the questionnaire (very simple...just circle 1 to 5) in the pre-paid envelope? <br />
<br />
All I could think of was what the nurse said to me about being late. I felt that she had judged me as a woman and as a mother. Sensitive much!? Trust me, I am well aware of my shortcomings as a wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, etc.! There's quite a list of things that I would like to change about myself and things that I am working on. But, being late is just not one of them! <br />
<br />
Later than night, my 8-year-old daughter came downstairs in tears around 9 p.m. A little bit of honesty: It's very hard for me to be a loving, caring mother at 9 p.m. when I'm so wiped out myself. I tried though (this time)...really!<br />
<br />
Turns out that her once-a-week computer class (which she had that day) was stressing her out. She said that the teacher pointed out that some students were clearly not trying their best because they did not finish the project. This devastated my daughter. She told me (and I truly believed her) that she DID try her best, but she's just not as fast as others (I can see this as she has very limited technology time at home). She said that she didn't finish...therefore she must be a terrible student.<br />
<br />
I lovingly explained (luckily, I snapped back into maternal mode!) that this comment was not intended to hurt her...or even geared toward her at all (her teacher herself told me that she's in a "difficult" class). She internalized the message and it was making her feel rotten (not to mention anxious about her entire future!).<br />
<br />
Hmmm...internalizing something and letting it take over your emotions. (Female anyone!?)<br />
<br />
I want my children to be able to put things in perspective. How can I teach them this if it is one of my growing edges? I know emotions (and sensitivity, in particular) are gifts. But, letting them take over rational thought is not fair...to me or others! <br />
<br />
My daughter actually came up with a beautiful solution for both of us. She asked me, "Will Mary help me with this if I ask her?" YES!!! She asked to be better at computers and I asked for graces to know my worth in God's eyes (lest I not be so concerned with what others think) and to take myself more lightly.<br />
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We said a Hail Mary together....and we both felt better.<br />
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And, I was late for preschool the very next day. I glanced at the clock...and smiled. If the nurse had said the exact same thing to me on that day, I would have readily agreed! :)Seasonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09084388743756153109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441130284075573075.post-2876678234470395272014-11-26T07:41:00.000-08:002014-11-26T07:41:19.886-08:00Extra Incentive...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLaNjynKMnHn5App0SJ8SHrUujXw5XWm05BQPMdKxYjaZR_k5lP0L6fnFUL9UChQIslbGkQYBZCuBiIirZr8AIEP70kOZfwgsygTvfeODNBPvGtg-yc6bAx_uw_cnGltaX6wY_LjrCBDtI/s1600/2014+155.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLaNjynKMnHn5App0SJ8SHrUujXw5XWm05BQPMdKxYjaZR_k5lP0L6fnFUL9UChQIslbGkQYBZCuBiIirZr8AIEP70kOZfwgsygTvfeODNBPvGtg-yc6bAx_uw_cnGltaX6wY_LjrCBDtI/s1600/2014+155.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lucy's very first time on stage at preschool for Grandparent's Day...she nailed it :)</td></tr>
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Last night Cecilia (age 5) was sitting in my lap playing with my hair. Suddenly she stopped and stared. Then, she was trying like crazy to "get something out of my hair." I knew what it was, but I didn't offer the answer. </div>
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Finally she said, "Mommy, what are these white strings in your hair?" I said, "They're white hair." She gasped, "You mean, you're just like Elsa!?!" She seemed to love this development.</div>
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Ha! I wish I was as excited about my white hair (and they do seem to be white...not gray!). Luckily (unless I'm deceiving myself!), they're not too noticeable yet unless you are standing close to me and searching for them (at least that's what I tell myself!).</div>
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My sister is a hairdresser. She has an adorable salon in the Boston suburb that I grew up in. She offered a free haircut (badly needed!) and free highlights (would love!) for Christmas if we come up. Hmm...one more reason to make the trek to Boston!</div>
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Wishing all of you a beautiful and blessed Thanksgiving with your loved ones. Thank you God for sending Jesus and for countless blessings in my family and in my country! Amen. :)</div>
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<br />Seasonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09084388743756153109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441130284075573075.post-1020346522501412252014-11-22T12:04:00.000-08:002014-11-22T12:08:49.659-08:00This is the day that the Lord has made!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio8hu8AV4PrenStEdXhBjzvlgm1w6Xd3pdP9kKp4bfrqlu7hwbOorvLYbRjviRE7COcxb0glypuvJxbf2izRH9aJwCvf3BHrw0eNOdJLePNee3lutyFwCaVj-m7yQqnGQeu5RxU4bpocpH/s1600/fall+2014+003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio8hu8AV4PrenStEdXhBjzvlgm1w6Xd3pdP9kKp4bfrqlu7hwbOorvLYbRjviRE7COcxb0glypuvJxbf2izRH9aJwCvf3BHrw0eNOdJLePNee3lutyFwCaVj-m7yQqnGQeu5RxU4bpocpH/s1600/fall+2014+003.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A celebratory smile after a first step :)</td></tr>
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Last night I captured this picture after Gianna was present for Teresa's first step. Gianna had been "teaching" her to walk right before the big moment! Of course, I was in the kitchen and I missed the step. I said, "I am with this baby 24/7! How is it possible that I missed it!?!" Oh well...hopefully there will be another "first" step because Teresa is 100% back to crawling today!<br />
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Anyway, last night I drove Gianna to basketball at 7 p.m. Her basketball class is 7:15 to 8:15 twice a week through January. I hate that it's so late. Gianna does well, but some of the other kids in the class appear to be overtired (read: acting crazy!) at that time of day. But, she really enjoys it, and that's only time for 2nd graders. So, out we went into the dark freezing cold night for basketball!!!<br />
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On our way, we drove by the Orange O at our neighbor's house. I've mentioned this several times before on the this blog. Our neighbors tragically lost their 8-year-old son three years ago when he was hit by a distracted driver. To honor him, they have created a foundation against distracted driving. At their home, they have the letter O in bright orange lights. It shines 365 nights a year.<br />
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I always say prayers when I drive by. I assume that Owen is in heaven so I ask him to pray...first and foremost for his mom, and then I add the rest of his family and our family too! Last night, I was very aware that I had an 8-year-old in the backseat. And, after some quick math, I realized that Gianna was EXACTLY the same age as Owen when he passed. This just made me pray for his mom even more (I think of his dad too, but my prayers come from one mother's heart to another). Needless to say, I really enjoyed basketball last night! <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBe8jefmopgPZulurp5AKzq4r38R3fkg_FanVeaFSF_tnbY1dyrdLmQtw6zQRYKPK62rweZ9q4ugo4ReWjOV2txz3BprKNFoJMKpBf0cBJQhQRbKv0QXya0MZoK_OaTUy1aQ_smWx0EIRL/s1600/fall+2014+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBe8jefmopgPZulurp5AKzq4r38R3fkg_FanVeaFSF_tnbY1dyrdLmQtw6zQRYKPK62rweZ9q4ugo4ReWjOV2txz3BprKNFoJMKpBf0cBJQhQRbKv0QXya0MZoK_OaTUy1aQ_smWx0EIRL/s1600/fall+2014+001.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In action...</td></tr>
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Seasonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09084388743756153109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441130284075573075.post-9737469332408590402014-11-15T11:29:00.001-08:002014-11-15T11:29:45.280-08:00In the moment...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A throwback to a year ago! A computer virus has sadly eaten all my recent pictures :(.<br />
I love remembering little baby Teresa though!</td></tr>
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Today is Saturday. And, I am a single parent today as my husband is giving presentations at a big conference for our Diocese. I have not handled this day very well. It's easy to blame my children for being SO ridiculous!!! </div>
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No really, so ridiculous! There have been so many unavoidable tears this day that it's kind of insane! Just for an example, if Mommy says, "Take off your shoes when we get into the house," then you shouldn't wait until you're at the top of the stairs...and throw your shoes down the stairs for them to hit the several siblings running upstairs behind you. And, if Mommy says, "Please watch the baby for just a second when I wash my hands," you shouldn't give her a big cup of ice water (this baby did not sign up for the ice bucket challenge!).</div>
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But, they are children. I am supposed to be the adult who is in control of herself (if not her surroundings). I have pleaded and begged my older children to help me (for example, simply doing something the first time that I ask makes a huge difference in my sanity!). My pleads went unheeded by Gianna. I am amazed that so much attitude can come from an 8-year-old. I do remember being loaded with attitude as a child, but I could've sworn that I was older :).</div>
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I recently read about Blessed Elizabeth of the Trinity. I guess she had horrible temper tantrums as a child...until she received her First Holy Communion and became a totally different child at age 7. I have decided that I am going to ask her intercession as my Gianna prepares for her First Penance (January) and First Holy Communion (May). Of course, I am going to equally ask that she intercede for me as Gianna's mother. I know that a lot of her (Gianna's) behaviors could be eliminated if I was a more effective parent. I'm trying, but it's so hard to try to be loving, patient, just, and forgiving of first offenses when your adrenaline is pumping and you are angry...especially when you are trying to deal with other children at the same time!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Throwback of Gianna and Teresa! Both have grown so much this year. Gianna is a great girl...I got a very good report from her teacher at conferences this week! I'm so proud of her.</td></tr>
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Joseph might have saved the morning. He was in a great mood. As he saw me begging Justin to take off his sleeper and get dressed this morning so we wouldn't be late getting Cecilia to dance, he said, "Mom, I'm going to say a Hail Mary for you right now." Ahhh...how did he know that this was the most perfect thing to do...like ever!?! </div>
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I was instantly more peaceful. Joseph loved my reaction so much (big hugs for that!) that he went on to say a Glory Be for his father and an Our Father for everyone in the world. Love that!!!</div>
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I must go now to wake the nappers (Lucy has been napping again...Alleluia!!!!!) so we can pick up Gianna at Brownies. Speaking of Brownies, I know that a lot of devout Catholics do not have their daughters participate in Girl Scouts because of their known connection to Planned Parenthood. This connection is troubling to me. But, our Diocese has wonderful Catholic scouting programs and at least right now (not sure about when she gets older), I love what she is learning (about her faith, leadership/friendship skills) and that she is completing service projects (they are making baskets of Thanksgiving food for the needy this afternoon). And, she LOVES it! Just FYI!</div>
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Have a blessed day, friends! It is 2:30 and Daddy should be home by 5. We'll be very happy to see him :).</div>
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<span id="goog_637160479"></span><span id="goog_637160480"><br /></span>Seasonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09084388743756153109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441130284075573075.post-52134941008451136992014-11-09T12:04:00.000-08:002014-11-09T13:42:14.030-08:00100% happy!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkuq0u5uMVlYNhfE6HgnyOb0wm86C3XbajgtST_JznHcRFx8EjHminoOy-2nFPxSwfgfGldrSJ5MXPa7FkOsluMt9HPraJxpBoCcvGQbxxmytSvH71jQGvtS9XQnd8aRT1SLCzxFVjXuya/s1600/001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkuq0u5uMVlYNhfE6HgnyOb0wm86C3XbajgtST_JznHcRFx8EjHminoOy-2nFPxSwfgfGldrSJ5MXPa7FkOsluMt9HPraJxpBoCcvGQbxxmytSvH71jQGvtS9XQnd8aRT1SLCzxFVjXuya/s1600/001.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My sweet boys spent hours making a "bedroom" for their favorite stuffed animals (King the lion and Stripes the tiger)!</td></tr>
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I'm so glad that God plans families. And, I'm so glad that we were open to His plans. When Cecilia was four months old, I started feeling strange. I was exclusively breastfeeding (no bottles, no pacifiers, etc.), she was not sleeping through the night, and my cycle had not returned. For these reasons, conceiving a child was not on my radar yet. Yes, our other kids were closely spaced, but I had a few cycles so I was not shocked when I was pregnant!<br />
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Anyway, I was at the mall one day in January of 2010 with Gianna, Joseph, and Cecilia. It's not a great mall, but it has an indoor playground which is key during Pennsylvania winters. I suddenly felt kind of lightheaded, and then I had a huge craving for McDonald's. I don't hate McDonald's food, but I certainly don't eat it often or "crave" it, either!<br />
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As I was navigating my preschooler, toddler, and infant through the mall, I passed by a dollar store. Hmmm...feeling faint and having cravings sounded familiar. I decided to get a $1 pregnancy test to put my mind at ease. Most moms can probably relate to the mental anguish you feel if you, "could be pregnant!?!?!"<br />
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I took the test right there at the mall...yes, with three little ones in the stall with me :). Fun times! As the line showed up within the three minutes, I couldn't wait to get home and call my husband (it didn't seem like an appropriate cell phone conversation for the indoor playground!). When he answered the phone, I said, "Are you sitting down?" His reaction was great, and I'll never forget it. He laughed out loud! It put my mind at ease. Most moms can probably also relate to the millions of emotions that rush through your mind when you get the result of the (positive or negative) pregnancy test!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsvUjrn2Gxa_YEdr0aZSNgiLCHtMGSIv6vJdCc1lAKkiBRQkiW7MeDXNHHi2v20hXDlzh0b5NiEs9-BaS8S1k2mqLGwFMWufi07pFP_Rd5sbVa7dHl-My-oczWvn7XyqymPorlBKgsFncs/s1600/006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsvUjrn2Gxa_YEdr0aZSNgiLCHtMGSIv6vJdCc1lAKkiBRQkiW7MeDXNHHi2v20hXDlzh0b5NiEs9-BaS8S1k2mqLGwFMWufi07pFP_Rd5sbVa7dHl-My-oczWvn7XyqymPorlBKgsFncs/s1600/006.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love my clean-haired ladies :).</td></tr>
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Anyway, Joseph and Justin are the best of friends these days. Sure, they have their moments; and at times, it is obvious that Joseph is almost 7 and Justin is just 4. But, I'm so grateful that they have each other. Watching them play together is one of the greatest joys of my life right now! Thank you, God. St. Joseph and St. Justin, please watch over my boys!<br />
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The OB/GYN told me that there was a only 2% chance of conceiving Justin (because I was exclusively nursing a young infant with no bottles/pacifiers, no extended sleep, no cycle return). Hmm...sounds like God really wanted him to a part of our family...<br />
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Like I said, I'm glad God's in charge :).<br />
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<br />Seasonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09084388743756153109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441130284075573075.post-67406492962916110342014-11-07T11:57:00.000-08:002014-11-07T11:57:07.512-08:00To be small...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My rose (or, at least half of her!)..</td></tr>
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One morning this week, I was sorting through some gently used clothes that a friend had given me. I love doing this; it is such a blessing for our family to receive these clothes! And, it feels like a Christmas morning to my daughters (my sons couldn't care less!) when they look at all their "new" clothes.<br />
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On this particular morning, a bright, sparkly shirt sporting a dressed up kitten caught my eye. I knew that this shirt would become a favorite of one my daughters! I glanced at the size and noted that it needed to be put away. It was a size 4...too small for the 5-year-old and too big for the 2-1/2-year-old.<br />
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Just then, the 2-1/2-year-old, Lucy, burst into the room. Her eyes quickly landed on the glittery kitty shirt. "Oohhh," she gasped as she tried to rip off her sleeper to put the shirt on NOW. I tried to explain that this shirt needed to be put away. There was no dissuading her. She managed to get it on and broke out in a huge grin. Besides the fact that the sleeves were too long, it didn't look that bad. I didn't have the heart to take it off of her, so I rolled up the sleeves and helped her pick out some pants (not too many pants would match such a busy shirt!).<br />
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The agenda for Lucy that day was errands with Mom and baby sister. She goes to school two mornings a week and LOVES it. She is quite disappointed when it is not her day to go. We went to the Girl Scout store because I had to pick up uniform stuff for my Daisy (Cecilia) and Brownie (Gianna). Lucy went into the small store and made herself right at home. She crawled under a table in the corner and found a bin full of stuffed animals. She proceeded to bring them out one at a time and present them with noises (most were correct, others were just humorous!).<br />
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The cashier asked how old she was. I said, "Two." Then the cashier, who didn't look old enough to have kids yet (but you never know!), said, "Looks like such a fun age!" <br />
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I should have just said, "YES!" Because, it is a wonderful age. So are ages 8, 6-1/2, 5, 4, and 1 (the ages of my other children!). And, 39 isn't so bad either :).<br />
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I often think of the quotes in St. Josemaria Escriva's book, "The Way," about small children. In particular, "Be little, very little. Don't be more than two years old, three at most." He goes on to explain that older children have lost their precious simplicity. St. Josemaria goes on in another quote to remind us that before God, WE (grown ups!) are smaller than 2-year-old toddlers!<br />
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Anyway, two is wonderful. The cashier saw it! And, I did too (she did look absolutely adorable making animal noises in her too-big kitty shirt!). <br />
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But, I said, "Yeah, but they get very challenging as they approach age 3." True enough! But, why did I have to vent that to complete stranger who was complimenting my toddler!?<br />
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It is easy to get caught up in the drama and meltdowns and lose sight of the big picture. I am praying for the grace to appreciate each of my children as they are...not as I would have them be! I want to see the rose (as the cashier did) and not the thorns! Yes, I do have to feel the thorns sticking in me...but, if the world just sees the rose...<br />
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That's awesome :).<br />
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I love this prayer...especially the part about our children...<br />
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<strong><em>Prayer to Our Holy Guardian Angels</em></strong><br />
<strong><em>(source: <a href="http://www.catholic.org/">www.catholic.org</a>)</em></strong><br />
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Heavenly Father, Your infinite love for us has chosen a blessed angel in heaven and appointed him our guide during this earthly pilgrimage. Accept our thanks for so great a blessing. Grant that we may experience the assistance of our holy protector in all our necessities. And you, holy, loving angel and guide, watch over us with all the tenderness of your angelic heart. Keep us always on the way that leads to heaven, and cease not to pray for us until we have attained our final destiny, eternal salvation. Then we shall love you for all eternity. We shall praise and glorify you unceasingly for all the good you have done for us while here on earth. Especially be a faithful and watchful protector of our children. Take our place, and supply what may be wanting to us through human frailty, short-sightedness, or sinful neglect. Lighten, O you perfect servants of God, our heavy task. Guide our children, that they may become like unto Jesus, may imitate Him faithfully, and persevere till they attain eternal life.<br />
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<strong><em>Amen.</em></strong><br />
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Seasonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09084388743756153109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441130284075573075.post-54174107832654997812014-11-02T11:27:00.000-08:002014-11-05T10:57:08.370-08:00Coincidences?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Joseph's 1st grade class made this Olaf for the Fall Festival. I love Holy Name of Jesus School!</td></tr>
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We are blessed with everything that we need. We have a lovely home in a safe neighborhood. We have plenty of food to eat, and the children are receiving a wonderful Catholic school education. The older three children are involved in their choice of activities, and our playroom is filled to the brim with toys (in fact, we are due for a purge...just don't tell the kids!). I am profoundly grateful for all of our blessings!<br />
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That said, there isn't a lot of money for "extras." We won't be going to Disney World (at least in the foreseeable future), and we don't "splurge" on many things! And then, there are always the unexpected costs of home ownership (like our new garbage disposal). And, I could go on and on about the price of orthodontics (although we lucked out there because Gianna's teeth "showed vast improvement!"), car repairs, and anesthesia costs for Teresa when she gets ear tubes this week. Although, I won't go on because I know that you have your own list of costly concerns!</div>
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Because we are on a tight budget, I am careful when I am shopping (although I'm still always shocked at how quickly things add up!). I was recently at Target and I remembered that I needed socks (like good old-fashioned white ankle ones to wear under my sneakers!). Like most moms I know, I rarely buy things for myself. I honestly don't remember the last time that I bought socks...maybe 10 years ago? Anyway, I've been throwing out pairs left and right as they get holes. I picked out a 6-pack of socks and threw them into the cart.</div>
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As the cashier was ringing up my order, I was watching the price go up and up. Most of it was household necessities and stuff that the kids needed. I quickly decided not to get the socks. Note that if one of the kids needed socks, I wouldn't have thought twice! </div>
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I forgot about the socks. Later that week, I was sorting through some lovely hand-me-down clothes from a friend. People are extremely generous...they often ask if would like some gently used clothes. I always say yes!!! I saved all of Gianna's old clothes for Cecilia, and Cecilia (my 5-year-old fashionista) refuses to wear most of them. But, luckily, we have received lots of styles that Cecilia WILL wear. I can't afford to go out and buy all new clothes for Cecilia, so this is a great blessing (although it would not be the end of the world if Cecilia had to wear a pair of sweatpants...lol!).</div>
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Anyway, I got to the end of the bin of clothes, and there were six pairs of brand new socks. As I was checking to see if they would fit Gianna or Cecilia, I realized that the answer was, "Neither." They were adult socks. And, they were exactly like the ones that I had put back at Target. My heart was filled with such a feeling of God's presence...He is here, He hears me, He provides. Coincidence? Perhaps. But not to me!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't remember the occasion for this picture, but happy times in the kitchen :).<br />
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It happened again this week. Gianna needs brown leggings for Brownies before her field trip this weekend. I found a pair of leggings, but they were more than I wanted to spend. I put them back on the rack and made a mental note to check out a few other stores. <br />
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I got home and the mailman had delivered two boxes from my mom. She works at a high school in Massachusetts. One of the teachers has two daughters who are a few years older than my girls (and the oldest is named Gianna Marie, just like my daughter!). She gives the clothes to my mom who then sends them to me. Later that night, I opened the box. Anyone want to guess what was in there!?!<br />
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I'm not kidding....the perfect pair of brown leggings. Again, I sent up a silent prayer of thanks. Coincidence? Not to me.<br />
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<a href="https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQChGLyUeYd65P849hGdTdcngNFRM2YJ6Q2z-zM7b3itTMLK53r" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" class="rg_i" data-sz="f" jsaction="load:str.tbn" name="n8CoMxqz1Wj5KM:" src="https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQChGLyUeYd65P849hGdTdcngNFRM2YJ6Q2z-zM7b3itTMLK53r" style="height: 174px; margin-top: 0px; width: 290px;" /></a>The last example is not about clothes. I recently deactivated my Facebook account (and then reactivated after my family asked me to send Halloween pictures of the kids...lol...but, I plan to deactivate it again). Since Lucy is not napping consistently, I am feeling out of balance.<br />
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I've not found any time for prayer and silence. So, when I've had five minutes, I would go on Facebook to browse. I convinced myself that there wasn't enough time to do anything "productive" before I was interrupted, so I might as well spend a few minutes of mindless "vegging" out.<br />
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One day last week when the kids were doing their homework and everyone was quiet for a minute, I snuck on Facebook again. Joseph asked, "Why do you like to look at pictures of other people so much?" Hmmm...that was kind of a good question. I suppose that I wanted to feel connected to other people as I felt rather stuck in my kitchen at that moment. However, I was left feeling disappointed and depressed because others seemed to be enjoying their lives so much more. I did not feel connected, I simply felt...worse...and cranky.<br />
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The next day at preschool, I saw a sign. It was about the benefits of solitude and silence, and the well-known psalm, "Be still, and know that I am God." I realized that God was calling me to recapture some "stillness" in my life. I knew that the allure of Facebook surfing would be too strong, so I deactivated my account. I instantly felt peace. However, there was one thing I was afraid of missing. </div>
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A friend, not a close friend who I speak to often, but someone who I see a few times a year and whose friendship I treasure, was past due with her third baby. She had recently switched to my OB/GYN (I highly recommended them to her) because they would support her in her attempt to have a VBAC after 2 C-sections. Her old OB/GYN practice had told her that it was too risky.</div>
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Anyway, I had been praying for this friend, and I was afraid that I would never know when her baby was born if I was not on Facebook. I considered reactivating my account. I resisted. A few hours later, I got a text. It was a picture of a gorgeous newborn with a note from my friend, "unmedicated VBA2C"...thanks for all your support and prayers! I do not ever remember giving my friend my cell phone number. Or, maybe I did...once...years ago. </div>
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Coincidence? Perhaps. I know all of these are easily explained otherwise. But, through the eyes of faith, they are gifts from my Lord reminding me that He's here, He's in charge, and I should continue to invite him into all of my decisions...because He knows and cares. This is of great comfort to me!</div>
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Have a peaceful week, friends. Don't be afraid of silence. :)</div>
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Seasonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09084388743756153109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441130284075573075.post-46788412868789208762014-10-27T10:37:00.002-07:002014-10-27T10:39:15.162-07:00This is it!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Back in July, I ran into Babies R Us. I had the 3-year-old, 2-year-old, and baby in tow. We had about 15 minutes before we had to pick up the older three kids from their Vacation Bible School. Of course, the whirlwind pace of our shopping trip was making everyone cranky (especially me!). <br />
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But, we were on a mission. The baby had a major blow out in her car seat and I forgot to put a spare outfit in the diaper bag. I was determined to grab something cute on sale and have her clean and smelling better before we reclaimed the others! <br />
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I quickly looked for the clearance rack. Some adorable rompers caught my eye. The price was right and they met the comfy requirement. I selected a navy blue and pink one with ice cream cones...perfect! <br />
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As I threw it into the shopping cart, I had a vision of my baby wearing the romper. In the daydream, everything was just right. She was sitting in her Exersaucer (which she hates) in my clean, cheery, sunny kitchen, and she was smiling while watching me make a delicious meal. We could hear the other kids playing happily in the backyard through the open window.<br />
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The outfit and the daydream were sold. I couldn't wait to create that scene in my kitchen that very day!<br />
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Needless to say, the only accurate part of the daydream was that the baby looked adorable in the outfit...until her next meal! I made a meal in my cluttered kitchen...but it just edible (not delicious), and the only sounds that I remember hearing were sibling quarrels. There was no yard play because of scary thunderstorms.<br />
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This happens a lot. I briefly imagine something "perfect." It's been happening as long as I can remember: From first kisses as a teenager (most that never transpired!) to buying a house with my dream kitchen overlooking my dream yard (I really like my kitchen and yard, but...!).<br />
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So, my life isn't as perfect as my daydreams. I know that I'm not alone. Every once in a while though, I have the consciousness of mind to recognize a, "THIS IS IT," moment. As in, this is EXACTLY what I've always wanted, hoped for, prayed for, dreamed of (even if the particular circumstances had never crossed my mind before).<br />
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The picture above captured one of these moments. It was Sunday night after a very busy weekend, and we had just finished the crazy bedtime routine. Everyone had been bathed and teeth brushed. We had gathered in our bedroom to say our family prayers and read one book (sometimes it's more, but I was anxious to get everyone down!). I was sitting near the bed nursing/rocking the baby.<br />
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And then, it happened. My husband lay on the bed in exhaustion. I told him to wake up and hang in there...we were SO close to finishing the day! And then the kids started lying on top of him. One of those unplanned things. Everyone was happy (well, maybe not Daddy!) and everything seemed...perfect. My kids were so cute and so sweet (miraculously no tears or complaints of being squished!), and we were all together while cozy and snuggly in our warm, safe house. My only thought was, "Stop time now!" <br />
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The best part was that the camera was randomly next to my bed so that I could capture it. The baby's not in it, but five out of six happy kids is a victory!<br />
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<em><strong>Lord, sometimes I feel discouraged because life isn't matching my best laid plans and intentions. I think I miss some peace and contentment because I'm picturing something different. Thank you Lord for knowing what is best for me. Give me the grace to accept it. </strong></em><br />
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<em><strong>And, thank you, thank you for the precious heartwarming moments that affirm me and uplift me. Please help me to recognize your hand in all the circumstances in my life...especially the out-of-control ones that come up incessantly with young children! Amen.</strong></em><br />
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I had another vision today while buying some cute Halloween crafts at Target. I'm excited for the kids to get home from school so I can create the scene. Anyone want to make a bet that'll it happen!? <br />
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I wouldn't either. If I let my expectations go though, I might just be surprised? Here's hoping :).<br />
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NOTE: This is my October piece that I wrote for catholicmom.com. I'm just reposting here!<br />
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<br />Seasonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09084388743756153109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441130284075573075.post-86356353431006461672014-10-23T11:44:00.001-07:002014-10-23T12:18:28.700-07:00Transitions...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lucy and Justin all ready for school!</td></tr>
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I am so delighted and humbled that people check my blog regularly. Really, thank you!!! <br />
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The reason that I am not blogging as much has a name. Her name is Lucy. She is a 2-1/2-year old tornado :). She simply will not give me a break in the afternoons. At the moment, she is sitting at the kitchen table with orange paint (the only color left!), a yellow glue stick (who knew they came in colors now!?), and some almost-hard Playdough. This is better than climbing on chairs and counters, which is one of her favorite things to do these days! I'm hoping for 10 minutes at most before she's trying to climb into my lap again :).<br />
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So, this is just an FYI post. I have many things that I would like to write about...and in fact, I often write blog posts in my head when I'm out and about! The problem is actually sitting down and writing them. <br />
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I can't write them after 8 p.m. because I fear it would not make any sense. The other night I was hemming my son's uniform pants around 9 p.m....while drinking a beer. My husband called to check in (he was working), and he asked me if I really thought this was a good idea. Ha! There are not many things that I do well after 8 p.m.! Miraculously, the pants turned out okay (although I'm not sure that the hem won't fall down next week!).<br />
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So, thanks for stopping by! I will try to write when I am able. I pray for the grace to enjoy and appreciate my daughter (and for her safety...constantly for her safety!) every afternoon. She is very easy to love at other times of the day...just not so much when I'm dying for a minute to myself! This "stop the nap" thing (when they are too young to sit and watch TV for an hour) is the hardest transition for me...dare I say even harder than bringing home a newborn!? I know that it's a phase (and a short one at that!). I just wanted to let my readers know why I am MIA these days!<br />
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Praying that the peace of Christ will be with all of us. Perfect timing...I better get back to the kitchen!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here I am offering Teresa a cupcake on her birthday!! She is ONE and a love. She's having trouble with her ears (chronic infections so we're off to specialist next week), but I'm enjoying her last days of babyhood! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-XQiLDs7pwtNV_tlcnPptfWdO9C036XZc9fwHGxKrJBOKs8WecVXPBzJKSf5huJ5A5kxZELFqnMjDd53sev6NutpE3SUI1Gg3B30F-TxT80M8AycKOMAFs8sUeSKlvXAHkX6a24YkjbvL/s1600/021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-XQiLDs7pwtNV_tlcnPptfWdO9C036XZc9fwHGxKrJBOKs8WecVXPBzJKSf5huJ5A5kxZELFqnMjDd53sev6NutpE3SUI1Gg3B30F-TxT80M8AycKOMAFs8sUeSKlvXAHkX6a24YkjbvL/s1600/021.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I know it's a fuzzy picture...I was having camera issues that day! Happy birthday anyway!</td></tr>
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<br />Seasonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09084388743756153109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441130284075573075.post-40032700564465548732014-10-17T11:34:00.000-07:002014-10-17T11:34:00.939-07:00End of shift...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3bu64wV8SZIty4gdWWl0M9iAmpIfIloAsp8k3QiWfAdNreyMLQ1cfltMTZCslXUbPbJooSJo9kHavVG5ue1cG5cSmGVIE5ilofpcorEg_5smVcRYiQScELD2BsE-onhZMavsmecckCBKX/s1600/fall+2014+011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3bu64wV8SZIty4gdWWl0M9iAmpIfIloAsp8k3QiWfAdNreyMLQ1cfltMTZCslXUbPbJooSJo9kHavVG5ue1cG5cSmGVIE5ilofpcorEg_5smVcRYiQScELD2BsE-onhZMavsmecckCBKX/s1600/fall+2014+011.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Trouble Twins</td></tr>
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I wouldn't trade being a stay-at-home mom for anything. But, I would pay a whole lot of money for someone to come and watch my 4 and 2-year-olds at certain times of the day!!! Now is one of those times...it's 2 p.m. I would promise to come back by 3:30 to get my older kids off the bus because I really like that part of the day (even though it tends to be NUTS!).<br />
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My 2-1/2-year-old (who refuses to nap), Lucy, is running around in her bathing suit. Yes, it's fall and probably 65 degrees out. But, it wasn't worth the battle. You get it, right? She also is carrying around and applying six lip glosses (the kiddie kind that is nontoxic, thank goodness!). She has colored her hands with markers. And, she keeps getting on a chair to go into the kitchen cabinets. Can you say accident waiting to happen!? I remember not that long ago (March maybe?) when I wrote a blog post about my favorite age (age 2). I'm rethinking this...big time!<br />
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I guess I should be glad that she's not trying to climb all over me. I love snuggles most of the day, but I try to steal some "me" time when Teresa is sleeping. For the record, I spent the entire morning actively engaged with her (Lucy)...so she is not deprived of affection and attention!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizqIrQE0PNi0P4Xw0S8aBDLmscRtLhtOdbHN_wO0gZYxZYe4wrAb0zrbQpS5f7gumuToX-DHLujgE2UgFzlTN-gyEKRGdhlOLDjM49_WIhyt1XIiIkQOt3qmOq3GGb9HGAZbIAF6-2CZ3n/s1600/fall+2014+004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizqIrQE0PNi0P4Xw0S8aBDLmscRtLhtOdbHN_wO0gZYxZYe4wrAb0zrbQpS5f7gumuToX-DHLujgE2UgFzlTN-gyEKRGdhlOLDjM49_WIhyt1XIiIkQOt3qmOq3GGb9HGAZbIAF6-2CZ3n/s1600/fall+2014+004.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This baby turns one next week!!!!</td></tr>
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Justin, age 4, had a fabulous time at school this morning. He came home with pumpkin seeds because they made a jack-o-lantern in class. I asked him if he wanted to roast them and eat them. He insisted that he needed to plant them in the backyard immediately. I supported this idea if it would keep he and Lucy entertained for a bit! After all, it's a beautiful fall day. <br />
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Skip ahead to the mud party in the bathroom while I was trying to grab a bite of lunch. God help me!!! I love these children, but all my efforts to maintain order (and a somewhat clean) house are defeated! It makes those alcoholic apple ciders in my fridge look mighty appealing!!!<br />
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I apologize for the vent post. When I tuck these babies into bed in a few short (okay, who am I kidding!?!) hours, I know that I will thank God for an amazing day with them like I always do. I am tremendously blessed...it's just easier to remember this at 9 p.m. than at 2 p.m. :)<br />
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I was stopped at a red light this morning at a corner where they are building a new Rite Aid. Lucy and Teresa were happy in the backseat, and I was listening to a beautiful song while enjoying my windows down. I watched a man lay bricks. He was working so efficiently and so carefully, and even in the short time that I was at the light, he made great progress. I couldn't help but feel (momentarily) jealous. When he finished his shift, he would have something beautiful (and something that will stand the test of time) to show for it.<br />
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What will I have at the end of my shift today!?! This is rhetorical. I know that my work is important. I know that I am carefully laying "bricks" also...just with a much slower (and messier) outcome. :)<br />
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Have a great weekend everyone! I will be enjoying one of those alcoholic apple ciders later when my trouble twins are safely tucked in their beds. Now I must go investigate the crash in the other room...<br />
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Seasonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09084388743756153109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441130284075573075.post-89101722238786162072014-10-14T11:51:00.001-07:002014-10-14T11:58:03.630-07:00Just perfect...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyig3hbXUMx4HLVZsxH7OHEdGjMJwLt1IwGmstORFLoilNgDddGfbBzQfCeWQMhYnfPgHk8S4JVUFeBpa3dHdbutWh00B6w36pY0zaQEq9U_tpm2tkQgZp1IL2yOX4xGaQrf7x2055xZPU/s1600/fall+2014+004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyig3hbXUMx4HLVZsxH7OHEdGjMJwLt1IwGmstORFLoilNgDddGfbBzQfCeWQMhYnfPgHk8S4JVUFeBpa3dHdbutWh00B6w36pY0zaQEq9U_tpm2tkQgZp1IL2yOX4xGaQrf7x2055xZPU/s1600/fall+2014+004.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Despite the cool drizzly weather, we had a great time yesterday! It was Columbus Day and the big kids were off of school. We dropped the little kids off at preschool, and they had a great time visiting their old teachers. It's a wonderful feeling for a parent when people are excited to see your children :). After preschool, we headed to a fall wonderland with tons of hay, sliding boards, corn mazes, pumpkin patches, face painting, etc.! The kids had a BLAST!<br />
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I couldn't help but remember last Columbus Day. I was 38 weeks pregnant and miserable with high blood pressure, contractions, low blood sugar problems, etc. My husband had to work so I took the five kids to a fall fun fort (like the place we went to yesterday, but just a different one!). It was a hard day for me. My children had a great time, but I was unable to enjoy it with them as everything felt hard and like so much work.<br />
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But, the memories of that day made yesterday so much sweeter. I loved watching my sweet Teresa enjoy the day right along with her siblings! And I felt great...small (ha...compared to last year anyway!), energetic, and just happy. My load was light.<br />
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It was a day that I counted all my blessings. I was so happy to be alive and enjoying a beautiful fall day with my children! Thank you God. Please bless us and protect us, and please, Blessed Mother, bring great comfort to all who are suffering.<br />
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Amen! Still savoring my favorite season....<br />
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<br />Seasonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09084388743756153109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441130284075573075.post-91154529275978089802014-10-10T11:16:00.000-07:002014-10-10T11:16:53.650-07:00The Cure...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5UhV0H_RBwtVCDCz60tsOiAatR5EMhs0rgTW6owpHCYmvPaDZtWZiXEUGwPn3bSSXMDbDE4UeEnzR-_Z_CCdKONcaCnE61DCEf0vFY17i426LgbS14JT4f3Y8Yc0AX7JBwt-K48J_VcLp/s1600/002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5UhV0H_RBwtVCDCz60tsOiAatR5EMhs0rgTW6owpHCYmvPaDZtWZiXEUGwPn3bSSXMDbDE4UeEnzR-_Z_CCdKONcaCnE61DCEf0vFY17i426LgbS14JT4f3Y8Yc0AX7JBwt-K48J_VcLp/s1600/002.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trying on Halloween costumes! They look so cute...too bad they were fighting moments later!</td></tr>
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It's Friday afternoon. It's been quite a week. Lucy, age 2-1/2, is napping for the second time this week. Alleluia! The other three afternoons were challenging. When she's not napping then she wants to be with me. As in, on my lap trying to type on the laptop and hold my coffee mug, with me. Ugh! I'm used to Justin watching a movie and Lucy and the baby napping so that I can have some "me" time and recharge my batteries. I can't expect this anymore...and it's a hard transition.<br />
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Wednesday and Thursday I ended up putting the laptop away and praying the Rosary with her (Lucy) snuggled on my lap. I think that was a very good use of my time. I love cuddling with my children...I just have to remember to embrace the moment and not think of other things that I could be doing! I had a lot to pray about. For starters, I had just read about another 2-1/2-year-old girl named Lucy who is fighting for her life (she has leukemia). And, I read about several infants this week who passed away (did you follow Shane's Bucket List at all? Such an inspirational reminder that all life is sacred). I wanted to pray for their parents. Anyway, it just felt right to hold my child and pray. Precious moments!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeT01AJt9NBuWQYmpI6qtbfywwj1NEfH3CDiRZQUphacM1VoGIMGJuqyHHwmuq4ar8hjeWEDxwDPiYvnXFapslMRdaGgE965PliAXF1rYbqSTjLsmJ7C0N1QiETWCw6gA2lMKn1UBvsBxe/s1600/006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeT01AJt9NBuWQYmpI6qtbfywwj1NEfH3CDiRZQUphacM1VoGIMGJuqyHHwmuq4ar8hjeWEDxwDPiYvnXFapslMRdaGgE965PliAXF1rYbqSTjLsmJ7C0N1QiETWCw6gA2lMKn1UBvsBxe/s1600/006.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My cutie still prefers baby food to "real" food!</td></tr>
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Yes, precious moments! But, yesterday afternoon I started to feel very unbalanced. It was a combination of not enough adult interaction (stay-at-home mom syndrome!), a head cold, hormones, and the change in seasons (less daylight!). We all have days like this, huh!? I felt a strong desire to connect with people...and not the six little people who I am blessed to spend my days with :).<br />
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When he got home from work last night, I told my husband that he needed to TALK to me. After the kids were in bed, I asked if we could have a no technology night (it's so easy for us to get on our laptops to check "a few things"...and suddenly it's bed time!). We did watch some TV together (we were both too tired to have much deep conversation!), but it was nice to have someone listen to me. And, the best part, he actually recommended that I go out with my friends!<br />
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So, tonight I am meeting a bunch of friends at Panera Bread for some kind of fall drink (I'm ridiculously excited to pick between caramel apple cider and a pumpkin latte!). Beer or wine would be my first choice, but I'm fighting a cold/sinus infection and I don't think that'll help me heal! <br />
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But, I think that laughter and connection is just the ticket to help me (physically and emotionally!). Have a blessed weekend everyone :).<br />
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<u></u>Seasonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09084388743756153109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441130284075573075.post-80577419351133359732014-10-06T12:03:00.000-07:002014-10-06T12:03:09.044-07:00Trying again...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMTUknNrvCP2jX62GQgTn13oH9SvfYKXMP51j6uNpx81D7OYSy2mZ3uS_HLad2hfM8lZ_IDEaO7TLRBqXnd3biucLfQu51GPREU7QPJewyYeTioWqxWqjt9L-9U9ia1nM9_i8DtDNAFpuH/s1600/fall+2014+008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMTUknNrvCP2jX62GQgTn13oH9SvfYKXMP51j6uNpx81D7OYSy2mZ3uS_HLad2hfM8lZ_IDEaO7TLRBqXnd3biucLfQu51GPREU7QPJewyYeTioWqxWqjt9L-9U9ia1nM9_i8DtDNAFpuH/s1600/fall+2014+008.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Librarian at kids' school asked for "Selfie with my shelfie" pictures to kick off reading challenge!</td></tr>
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This morning was a challenge. The alarm went off at 6:20 a.m. and the three of us were all snuggled under the blankets. The temperature dipped into the 30s last night so the room was freezing! <br />
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Yes, the three of us. Teresa is baby number six and the only baby ever to sleep in our bed (and not all night...only when she wakes up after 4 a.m. and I'm desperate for her to go back to sleep...quickly!). I'm counting on the fact that she'll sleep through the night after she's weaned...at least that's what's happened five times before!<br />
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I also have a bad head cold. This made it even harder to get out of bed! Once I put on some heat (I could anticipate the kids complaining about getting dressed!) and some COFFEE, I was feeling better. Five out of kids woke up in a pretty good mood...despite the low temperatures.<br />
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The 6th child to wake up was a grump. She (Gianna) had lots of ailments (sore throat, sore leg, sore arms, sore neck, etc.), and she couldn't believe that I was going to send her to school anyway! The nerve...<br />
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Flashback to being a child and begging my mother to stay home. My mother was very good at discerning when we were really sick. If she determined real cause, we would get the royal treatment (no wonder we wanted to stay home!). From my father, I inherited a ton of guilt about being out of school. Even as an adult when I was teaching, I often went to school feeling terrible to avoid feeling guilty. Yes, I realize that this is irrational :).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU8vBUe7F_OVRb5TCghQmQ-6l5Y4zpSgjV44yV0FxhbNxEDM1_sWotlhbD_6v7An0D0_xZdMmKUlzaNrD4eg-hALfoRKxqRWZ-22Ty4qetLppZLP2Ati9YEH0l0KuQlnp_RI9AwPOs83A4/s1600/fall+2014+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU8vBUe7F_OVRb5TCghQmQ-6l5Y4zpSgjV44yV0FxhbNxEDM1_sWotlhbD_6v7An0D0_xZdMmKUlzaNrD4eg-hALfoRKxqRWZ-22Ty4qetLppZLP2Ati9YEH0l0KuQlnp_RI9AwPOs83A4/s1600/fall+2014+001.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here's the baby who gets the extra snuggles!</td></tr>
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Anyway, Gianna was not sick. It was just the morning grumps. I knew that a bowl of cereal would snap her out of it. Of course, "there is never any cereal that she likes in this house!" Despite her pleas, I was not going to make her pancakes or let her have cookies!<br />
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Kids have bad mornings. I am very grateful that (so far), they are usually on different mornings. Cecilia was very grumpy on Friday morning, but she was delightful and very independent this morning. Joseph was as agreeable as Joseph can be today! If there is ever a morning when they are all grumpy, I will surely write about it (if I survive!).<br />
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Gianna remained grumpy and it was torture to get her fed, dressed, teeth and hair brushed, and coat on. She did not want a kiss goodbye. I wasn't going to push it. In fact, I was very excited to see her go so that the house mood could improve (woops, did I admit that!?).<br />
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The door closed as my husband went to take the three oldest to the bus. I returned to getting breakfast for the younger kids. See ya!<br />
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And then, the door opened again. I held my breath...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVM7-vhDaVhFTdD6bY3hwyc-B0pJxY0FR-vApbGBckZIHiMwyYWbY96G-0fT7TQEdF_Pmfg7juOOG25A11jXnHhoband5jl2pEwFy60qk9mOdWCdHAe0YbrVfH0imCUVAIpvDq3Kee3xAe/s1600/fall+2014+005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVM7-vhDaVhFTdD6bY3hwyc-B0pJxY0FR-vApbGBckZIHiMwyYWbY96G-0fT7TQEdF_Pmfg7juOOG25A11jXnHhoband5jl2pEwFy60qk9mOdWCdHAe0YbrVfH0imCUVAIpvDq3Kee3xAe/s1600/fall+2014+005.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lots of soccer this weekend and I loved it because it was fall weather!! Last weekend it was in the 80s...the heat really affected the kids (and the parents on the sidelines!). </td></tr>
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It was Gianna. Crap. My mind was screaming, "Go to school already!!!"<br />
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No wait, she looked...nicer. She gave me a big hug as she apologized. She asked if we could try harder tomorrow morning to be nicer to each other. <br />
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My defensive instinct was to tell her that I WAS perfectly nice this morning. I didn't feel well and I was still taking care of everyone... SHE was the problem. She was snotty, rude, dramatic, unmotivated, and lazy. Luckily, I spared her the lecture because the bus was going to arrive...and I realize the power of mom's response. I did not want to be the cause of a bad day.<br />
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I hugged her back and smiled as I told her enthusiastically, "YES! Tomorrow morning is a re-do!" I wished her a great day and she skipped to the door while blowing me kisses.<br />
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I felt good about the self-control that I showed in that moment. High five to me!<br />
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But, upon reflection, I must admit that I could've done a much better job. I could tell as soon as she walked into the room this morning that she was in a bad mood so I "turned off the love." <br />
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Instead of telling her to "get over" her aches and pains this morning, I should've given her a big hug and said good morning. I could've helped her morning by laying out her clothes like I had done for the other kids (I didn't because I was frustrated with her). I could've LISTENED to her (even if it was complaining) instead of dismissing her.<br />
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Gees, I should've been the one asking her for forgiveness!!!<br />
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I thought it showed great maturity for an 8-year-old to ask for forgiveness and to try to make it right for next time. I hope that she is getting that from me. This motherhood thing is crazy hard (to quote the "Mom's Night Out" movie!), and I can only take so much before snapping. My kids hear me say that I'm sorry...a lot. I ask if we can start something over...a lot.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK8XYNLM-KjwgK7cHdHajr5zlCJ6UqnaXzpi9ZySqTImh4O0MQKZv0FNm4awpFd0h1q05dgFRaNf8Aw-v_uhybSEUayIGbkgZkPHmU7FROzqlf4A7MWa53XiJAEkW4zocF9YvEYjjCXiog/s1600/fall+2014+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK8XYNLM-KjwgK7cHdHajr5zlCJ6UqnaXzpi9ZySqTImh4O0MQKZv0FNm4awpFd0h1q05dgFRaNf8Aw-v_uhybSEUayIGbkgZkPHmU7FROzqlf4A7MWa53XiJAEkW4zocF9YvEYjjCXiog/s1600/fall+2014+002.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Joseph started calling Justin and Lucy, "The Trouble Twins." Trust me...it fits!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go rescue Lucy from older brother torture. I'm sure that he owes Lucy an apology...<br />
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but, not holding my breath that he'll show the maturity that Gianna showed :). <br />
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<br />Seasonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09084388743756153109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441130284075573075.post-24943450733784618892014-10-02T11:50:00.002-07:002014-10-02T11:54:09.715-07:00If...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCgG208YseZ-o3nNUfdLqhbJvlAzmS2PPd_pFq_vOtWdpy0TtZYwNnsXp_KI0eTbQQG4CDaisPMrLKme8YDel50D785ki_OnRhv_cu-0RVCw4FgnxbUSYC7NN_sN1KE46QIPQvQpLZTsdC/s1600/001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCgG208YseZ-o3nNUfdLqhbJvlAzmS2PPd_pFq_vOtWdpy0TtZYwNnsXp_KI0eTbQQG4CDaisPMrLKme8YDel50D785ki_OnRhv_cu-0RVCw4FgnxbUSYC7NN_sN1KE46QIPQvQpLZTsdC/s1600/001.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lucy's "silly guys" are outside our house again! Love this time of year!!!</td></tr>
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IF...<br />
I was the dental hygienist who cleaned my teeth this morning, I would have hated me. I would still be talking about the snotty lady with the 8:40 a.m. slot :).<br />
<br />
For the record, it is that most challenging week of the month for me when my hormones take over (better known as PMS!). I'm also coming down with a cold and Teresa and I didn't sleep well last night. These are not excuses or justifications, but at least it makes me feel better :).<br />
<br />
I was sitting in the waiting room with Justin. We both had appointments to have our teeth cleaned at 8:40. Around 8:55 (not too bad, I guess), I was called back. However, the dental hygienist did not call back, "Trish Bolster." Rather, she kept saying over and over again, "Pat? Pat? PAT?"<br />
<br />
I knew she was calling ME. However, I didn't answer. Since I was a girl, I have despised being called, "Pat." Yes, my name is Patricia. And, there is nothing wrong with Pat. In fact, I was named for my aunt, Patricia (Pat) Margaret Mulhern, who sadly died of a sudden brain aneurysm at age 25. <br />
<br />
But, Pat is not my name. Only one person in my life has called me Pat. It was Mrs. Irons, my 7th grade social studies teacher at St. Catherine of Siena School in Norwood, MA. Sorry if I'm calling you out, Mrs. Irons (I actually have NO idea where she is today!). I corrected her (even though I was very shy) and my parents corrected her. She then called me Tricia for exactly one day before defaulting back to Pat. Not that I'm still bitter :). WHY does this bother me? (no answer)<br />
<br />
Anyway, after she called, "Pat BOLSTER," I finally stood up and told Justin to follow. She asked if I hadn't heard her. I told that I'm not used to being called Pat (check my chart lady...I've been coming here for almost ten years and my preferred name is right on it...I know this because no one has ever called me Pat before!)! She didn't seem too pleased.<br />
<br />
But at least my teeth are clean. :)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3clMJhsUwVGD0SzCDSnhFwc24bOSvEeBwmBp6GVMaX9QFqWLBIC47MVGL5KQGEYVZlHdU9RJvbNQ2Wcm8zj1An_CmooKtc2zXoQBGk7fuUv22cBo28is1BLKhyphenhyphenvWM0A7Vh5g-MXOcDrOy/s1600/002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3clMJhsUwVGD0SzCDSnhFwc24bOSvEeBwmBp6GVMaX9QFqWLBIC47MVGL5KQGEYVZlHdU9RJvbNQ2Wcm8zj1An_CmooKtc2zXoQBGk7fuUv22cBo28is1BLKhyphenhyphenvWM0A7Vh5g-MXOcDrOy/s1600/002.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love my boys!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
IF...<br />
Lucy would nap everyday (like she is right now...hooray!), I would be much saner, happier, calmer, you-name-it!!! All of my girls have stopped napping at 2-1/2-years-old...pretty much to the day. Lucy turns 2-1/2 this week. And, this is only her second nap of the week (it's Thursday). Last week she was napping just fine. Two and a half-year-olds NEED naps. <br />
<br />
But, my girls (luckily my boys both napped until 3-1/2ish) decide they are big enough to stop (and they drive their mother almost insane because they are too young to sit and watch TV for an hour or two (the only TV allowed all day is during nap time) so Mommy gets ZERO break). I need a break. Not to mention the declining mood of the toddler as the day progresses!<br />
<br />
And, yes, I have tried all kinds of solutions...but I spend my entire "break" when Teresa is sleeping trying to get Lucy down, so it's really not worth it...I'm even more stressed! If I'm not blogging much these days, you'll all know why :).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img align="middle" alt="Image result for picture of guardian angel" border="0" class="iuth" height="320" name="imgthumb1" src="data:image/jpeg;base64,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" style="margin: 0px auto;" title="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guardian_angel" width="215" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy Feast of the Guardian Angels! Thank you angels...please watch over us!</td></tr>
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IF...<br />
I was God, I don't think I would be very happy with how I respond to my children in stressful situations. In fact, I would punish me...harshly...for not being the mother who my precious children deserve.<br />
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Case in point: My husband was teaching a class on Tuesday night. So, it was just me for afternoon homework for 3 kids, dinner, and clean up (and I really lose it if there's not a little bit of order, so I ask the kids to pick up a few things...reasonable, you'd think!?!). I was getting worn down anticipating bathing six children and getting everyone to bed on time (so I could enjoy my reward...a glass of wine!).<br />
<br />
Gianna (8) and Joseph (6-1/2) were being VERY silly. Most of the time, I love the close bond that they've always shared. Watching them together makes my heart sing. But, not on Tuesday evenings when I'm the only adult!<br />
<br />
At 7 p.m., I asked the two of them to clean up the backyard for me (riding toys, baseball bats, etc. everywhere!) and then head upstairs for their showers. Let's just say that they were less than cooperative. And, because they had support in each other, they were extra bold and uncharacteristically rude. <br />
<br />
I did not respond well. I do not physically hurt my children, but words can sting too. Let's leave it at that. I got their cooperation in the end. And, I did apologize and explain (for what it's worth) that I really need their help when Daddy is not home. They seemed to forgive me and everyone got to bed peacefully and on time.<br />
<br />
I do not forgive myself as easily. And, in all honesty, who knows what long-term damage I am doing to my children!?! God help me.<br />
<br />
There's a line in a song that makes me feel all better. It's the song, "Overwhelmed," by Big Daddy Weave. There's a link below (I think...I've never been any good at this sort of thing!!!).<br />
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The line is this: "God, I run into your arms...unashamed because of mercy."<br />
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Thank you God for your mercy and for never giving up on me. I pray for the grace that I need to be the person that I am called to be (even when someone calls me Pat, even when my toddler doesn't nap, even when my kids are disrespectful). Amen. :)<br />
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BiGb14tTaH4&feature=player_detailpage">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BiGb14tTaH4&feature=player_detailpage</a><br />
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IF...<br />
You are still reading, then I thank you!!! Many blessings on your day. Guardian Angels, pray for us!<br />
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<br />Seasonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09084388743756153109noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441130284075573075.post-60782851395525491932014-09-29T11:49:00.000-07:002014-09-29T11:49:00.370-07:00The eye of the beholder...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWEKmVNHfjePSHTXRQRe87cQ0ag8xuS1Ta684r3IekaY_oevvAPWrB18OAgiZaH6uWNcOuD5YHRMLUjDpCf9rmWNCLHJ0ZsVFCpg86GrQLAvg2peq8KHyUtCh9OrdY4dzMMUv_pEO_-04k/s1600/001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWEKmVNHfjePSHTXRQRe87cQ0ag8xuS1Ta684r3IekaY_oevvAPWrB18OAgiZaH6uWNcOuD5YHRMLUjDpCf9rmWNCLHJ0ZsVFCpg86GrQLAvg2peq8KHyUtCh9OrdY4dzMMUv_pEO_-04k/s1600/001.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gianna got the best birthday present. It's a book teaching kids to draw animals. Here's Gianna and Cecilia drawing zoos!</td></tr>
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I had a ridiculous conversation in Kmart this morning. I was thoroughly enjoying a shopping trip with just my baby...the other five kids were at school! And, major bonus...the baby was sleeping! I was pushing the cart oh-so-gently so I wouldn't wake her up. I had some good coupons and Kmart is having a double coupon week, so good for me all around :).<br />
<br />
Until...I approached the pharmacy. I saw a sign for flu shots, and I was reminded that I should really get one. I wondered if the baby would sleep if I got one then.<br />
<br />
I waited in line behind a lovely looking elderly woman. She smiled at me and I smiled back. She ran over to see the baby...my sleeping baby...ugh!!! Luckily, she did not wake her up. <br />
<br />
Instead, she commented, "Ahh...so precious. They start off so ugly and parasitic, but then they get so cute. Mine both looked like Winston Churchill when they were born, but they turned out great." I just looked at her. What!?! She went on, "I mean, for three months, they are just parasites who can't give anything in return...they just suck the life out of you...literally," she added with a laugh. <br />
<br />
Um okay, I have never once thought of my newborns as ugly parasites, and I'm so sorry for this woman if she did :).<br />
<br />
As Teresa woke up, I was thinking that I didn't need a flu shot so badly anymore. I should've left. But, I decided to confirm that they took my insurance so that I could come back later. The sweet looking lady said, "Did you see the news this morning? There was a story about a man being pulled over by the cops and he had an unrestrained 14-month-old child in the backseat. If that's not a case for sterilization, I don't know what is! Some people should not be allowed to have children!"<br />
<br />
I did hear that news story in the background this morning when I was making school lunches. And, I did find it terribly disturbing and sad. I was grateful that the baby was okay. But, again, I never made the leap to sterilization!<br />
<br />
I cut my losses and left...didn't want to see where the conversation would go next :). The thoughts ringing in my head as I drove away: Life is beautiful at all stages (especially when most vulnerable), and we have no right to judge others fit or unfit...none of us are worthy of our gifts!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD6ReUrKJeXoh5erb1balq_DE5zU4dSP0EYg3ndfA0kaQzs_o5iFRkzOc0-rI5oGCIzX_8qwmFyrmAtxNvb0hoORT_fJ7p10wtddMmCoQeh92F_vfKgFqT9a1heNQsM9zajUJTduatZRQi/s1600/007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD6ReUrKJeXoh5erb1balq_DE5zU4dSP0EYg3ndfA0kaQzs_o5iFRkzOc0-rI5oGCIzX_8qwmFyrmAtxNvb0hoORT_fJ7p10wtddMmCoQeh92F_vfKgFqT9a1heNQsM9zajUJTduatZRQi/s1600/007.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lucy says, "I am a big girl...and her (Teresa) is a peanut!"</td></tr>
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Bizarre conversations aside, I wanted to share a special memory from this weekend:<br />
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On Friday afternoon after school, I was in the basement playroom with all six children (I've been going down there a lot more often because all the toys are down there...and Teresa can't go down there by herself!). Our moods were all over the place after a long week! My children and I then shared a very special moment when Teresa walked for the first time ever (well, while pushing her cart). The room was instantaneously filled with tremendous joy, happiness, laughter, and excitement! The kids were all congratulating her and cheering those little legs on! LOVE.<br />
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Moments like these make everything seem so light. Sure, there are so many unpleasant moments during parenthood...but, one moment like this makes everything all good! I hope that I just remember the love. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJn1wdpccjg2bdde4GYgOsj-7IJ5v1dzrBAPlQ5MwbAXn1rH8VPxF9bIfRn42HYlKp6M_LS22M9WjI-psiSRhn0nZ_6-12R7l8CsClNYPXJ12x0tSZfX4vgv15l0PDw88ooFZCkIwtpjG8/s1600/004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJn1wdpccjg2bdde4GYgOsj-7IJ5v1dzrBAPlQ5MwbAXn1rH8VPxF9bIfRn42HYlKp6M_LS22M9WjI-psiSRhn0nZ_6-12R7l8CsClNYPXJ12x0tSZfX4vgv15l0PDw88ooFZCkIwtpjG8/s1600/004.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Welcome to the upright world, Teresa! Now maybe you will stop putting everything in your mouth as you crawl around on dirty floors...lol!</td></tr>
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I hope the lady at Kmart has memories like this stored in her heart...after her kids turned 3 months, apparently :). And, I hope the man in the news story is able to turn his life around, with God's help. God Bless that innocent child too.<br />
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How's that for connecting random story lines together? :)<br />
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Seasonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09084388743756153109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441130284075573075.post-79741206441594043792014-09-23T11:49:00.001-07:002014-09-23T11:52:19.631-07:00Morning Glory...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwlBceCBywXtD_fw4UiMjfwYQdoJaXLKoPqsTJLKgzHYVSx7IcKe591ipRXsqdNGo68knFR1cgxGdnQV0yO9gR54muinYVflFpjH4FbAjrEkd7QRbObJeC5yMaa2NmueaJcz_Hr3L04DiK/s1600/c's%2Bfirst%2Bday%2Bof%2Bschool%2B003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwlBceCBywXtD_fw4UiMjfwYQdoJaXLKoPqsTJLKgzHYVSx7IcKe591ipRXsqdNGo68knFR1cgxGdnQV0yO9gR54muinYVflFpjH4FbAjrEkd7QRbObJeC5yMaa2NmueaJcz_Hr3L04DiK/s1600/c's%2Bfirst%2Bday%2Bof%2Bschool%2B003.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't take enough pictures of my sweet strawberry blond baby!</td></tr>
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I realized something on Saturday night around 10 p.m. that made me kind of upset. I had not said a single prayer that entire day....not even a Hail Mary. This is so rare for me! And, it made me feel bad that I had not raised my mind and heart to God even once (well, we probably said Grace before meals and bedtime prayers...but I gotta be honest, I'm not always concentrating on the words!).<br />
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Now, even I think that I have good excuses! The early morning was/is...just crazy! I try to hurry up and have my raisin bran and coffee so that I can continue taking care of everyone else. On Saturday, Joseph had a 9:30 soccer game (which I had to leave to walk Cecilia over to her dance class at 10...luckily it's in the same complex!), Teresa had a high fever and was unbelievably fussy (so Gianna and I made the trip over to other side of Harrisburg to see the pediatrician who was available last minute on a Saturday morning), and then we took the whole family to Hersheypark (a very kind friend gave us tickets!).<br />
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Hersheypark was SO crowded that it was a challenge just to keep an eye on our five walking children (luckily Teresa...who felt better after antibiotics for a double ear infection and ibuprofen for the fever...cannot walk yet!). It was too crowded for us to enjoy it much (I usually love watching my children have so much fun!), but it was still a nice family activity.<br />
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We got home just before 8 p.m. with children who were melting and/or wired. Bedtime was a not-so-fun blur. I took a long shower before sitting down to eat a late dinner. It was after collapsing on the couch that I first turned my thoughts to God. I felt so bad that I had ignored my Lord and his Blessed Mother the entire day! (Of course, I do realize that taking care of my family is exactly what I was meant to do this day...).<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRNxiy2EEiM1AViQM1XC4DTSWwP-kESgsJc2HP4PGHLLluQz5sUlEsGZjdjC7gMHSqLdI9If_D20Ba-u-oWW7e-UCaPr5EDMRx-DL3MFuPzpJEWZObDZuAuSOEWzt2dwJyB_afyw7PPb98/s1600/hershey+park+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRNxiy2EEiM1AViQM1XC4DTSWwP-kESgsJc2HP4PGHLLluQz5sUlEsGZjdjC7gMHSqLdI9If_D20Ba-u-oWW7e-UCaPr5EDMRx-DL3MFuPzpJEWZObDZuAuSOEWzt2dwJyB_afyw7PPb98/s1600/hershey+park+001.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A pic from our last trip to Hersheypark. I was afraid that I would lose a child if I stopped to take a picture on Saturday!</td></tr>
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Then I remembered something that I had read. For my birthday in August, my husband got me an AWESOME book called, "33 Days to Morning Glory: A Do-It-Yourself Retreat in Preparation for Marian Consecration," by Michael E. Gaitley MIC. This book was mentioned on EWTN one night when I was channel surfing. My husband was in the room working on his laptop. I told him that I would love this book, but I didn't think he was paying attention. I was thrilled to receive it on my birthday...guess he was listening! I love surprises like that!!!<br />
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Anyway, I eagerly read the book. I have been saying a daily consecration to Mary for many years now, but I had never formally consecrated my life to her. Detailing all that consecration involves would take way too much explanation for this blog post, so I recommend this book if you're interested :).<br />
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According to the book, it is supposed to be 33 days until consecration. And, you're supposed to wait so that your consecration will end on a Marian fest (for example, start the book 33 days before August 15th, which is the Assumption). Well, I dug right in and I read way more than I was supposed to each day...woops!!! I don't even remember the actual day of my consecration, but it was not a Marian feast. With my six little ones, I don't have much free time, so I hope that my eagerness is forgiven :).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img align="middle" alt="Image result for picture of blessed mother" border="0" class="th" height="200" name="imgthumb5" src="data:image/jpeg;base64,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" 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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mary, please help me to be a better wife and mother!</td></tr>
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Recalling a few quotes by St. Maximilian Kolbe made me feel better on Saturday night. Summarized, he says that, "It is not at all necessary that the thought of the Immaculata (Mary) should occur to one's mind...for the essence of our union with her does not consist in thought, memory, or sentiment, but in our will." <br />
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And, "We belong to her...because we have consecrated ourselves to her once, and we have never taken back our consecration."<br />
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This is comforting to me. It makes me feel like, "Mary's got this!" She is still loving me, protecting me and my family, guiding me, helping me, working in my life and in the lives of my loved ones in ways that I recognize and ways that I know will never know anything about...<br />
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YAY! This is not to say that I no longer need to pray. In fact, I really enjoy prayer! I find the more that I pray, the more that I want to pray. But, some days I will not be able to say the Rosary...or even a single Hail Mary...and it's still okay! PHEW!<br />
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Better get off the computer (no excuse not to say a few prayers today!)! Thanks for reading! Have a blessed day.<br />
<br />Seasonshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09084388743756153109noreply@blogger.com0