Pining

My husband is out of town, no biggie, I know, husbands travel all the time. Mine doesn't though. We have been together for 17 years this fall, if you count our first "date", senior year homecoming. During that time, we haven't been apart for more than 48 hours, even during the 3 months I was in the hospital on pregnancy induced bedrest. I'm pretty much lost without him.

For years, I was a proud feminist, who needs a man, right? Then I met Chris, who I needed more than anything in my life, next to God. He made me realize what being a woman really is, and it didn't involve man hating. He made me stronger, wiser and showed me who I really could be. He brought me back to the faith of my baptism.

I need him to tell my silly ideas, he still seems interested in my rants about well, everything, he is the only one here who ever says they like my cooking. I miss telling him about all the kids antics, due to time differences and busy schedules, we have only been able to share a few short texts. When he is here, I do not need an alarm clock, he wakes me every morning, just before the alarm disturbs my dreams.

I'm sure I sound silly, but the truth is I really love my husband, and miss him so much it hurts. It is only 6 days, but it seems like forever.

Letting them make mistakes

How does a parent let a child make mistakes so they can learn? I'm not talking about the wee ones, but the ones on the precipice of teen years, the ones who need to learn lessons for life. These lessons hurt, and as a parent, it is hard to watch, especially as you are at the point of just realizing that your child is growing up.

Take for example the child who plays an instrument and does not practice. Upon auditioning, they are not given the chair they hoped for, and got a rather critical email from the director. Now part of me wants to say, well, are you surprised? Another part wants to say you tried you're best,even if it seems like a lie, just to make said child feel better. This was a mistake the child made, they were reminded to practice, and didn't, and in turn suffered the consequences. It still hurts to watch.

These are the little life lessons, that as a parent, I hope are taken to heart. It seems like all the tears and chair kicking would be in vain otherwise.

More tales from the X-Files

It's been a while since I've mentioned my youngest Xavier, but he needs mentioning again. My nearly 5 year old started school yesterday. Home school, of course, but it's still school. This has given more fodder for the blog than months of thinking ever could.

Case in point, before the day even began, he was whining, "Why did you make me join this school, now I have to wear pants?" We have a school rule regarding coming to the table with clothes on, he hates this rule. Xai hates pants, he has a rule against them I was informed.

We began phonics, covering the /f/ sound. I asked him if he could think of a few /f/ sound words. Here's how that turned out "um, fffish, um, fffootball, fffork, fffan, and ffffpuppy" "Um, Xai, Puppy doesn't begin with /f/" "Well, (with hands on his hips and eyes rolling) I SAID FFFFPUPPY!! THAT BEGINS WITH FFFFF!!!"

Today was just as entertaining, I was administering placement tests to the older kids, and was asked for a sentence to go with the word after. Xai chimed in, "I've got one, After you drink too much, you pass out" Great, which college kid taught him that, because it certainly wasn't his parents, I must talk to his best friend's 22 year old sister!

His sister tried to teach him math, but after calling her "queen bossy boots" she gave the job up.

I can only imagine how quickly his little behind would be in the principal's office if he wasn't homeschooled. As it is the principal gets 3-4 text messages a day with the antics of an insane 4 year old.

Puppies Prisions and Wounded Soldiers

It's a strange combo, but I heard this story last week and thought it one of the most brilliant ideas I've ever heard.

Faith in Action

This was posted on the American Chesterton Society Blog and is SO worth sharing.

We helped with a project for a missionary in Angola last year, I think this year, the kids and I will be scrounging our pennies to support this project. The actions of a few can bring hope to many.

The simple joy of Soup

Soup, a hot liquid, a plain and simple food that warms the heart and soul. I love soup, I make it far too often, but, there is something about the making and eating of it that makes me so happy. I have a reputation among some for my soups, its pretty much a given that if you give birth ,I'll give you soup. Every mama needs homemade soup.

But what is it about it? I've been thinking about it. What other substance can please a picky eater? What else can turn a whole lot of nothing into a great meal? What else says I hope you feel better like soup?!Soup is love in a bowl. Even a "quick" soup says I love you.

I've probably written about this before, but with old age setting in, the memory goes!

Can't make heads or tails of the Health Care Plan?

Neither can I, but Sean over at the Blue Boar took the time to break down a few things. It is very worth reading. It is good there are people to read through it and explain it to my dumb sea cucumber self.

I guess any future babies will not be born there!

I had my last at this hospital. I worry about stuff like this. Not just because women are vulnerable during birth, but because having more than 2 kids is becoming less and less popular. I hope the woman wins this suit and gets enough out of it to adopt 10 kids!


***Note***
After I posted, the article was pulled form my local paper's website. The jist of the story is that a local woman went in for the C-section birth of her third child and without her permission the Dr. did a tubal ligation. The Hospital was Rush-Copley, in Aurora, IL

Cock-eyed Optimist?

I never pegged myself as an optimist, matter of fact, my oldest and dearest friends would probably laugh out loud to hear me say it, but I am. Sure I think that the world is going to hell in a hand basket, I mean, seriously, look around! But I'm pretty sure there is a hole somewhere in that mass produced basket that is a way out, there is always hope.

Hope is a funny thing, it is one of those virtues that you have to pray for, to ask God for, and cannot "earn". I cannot give a great lesson one hope, Salvi et Spes puts into words my hearts deepest beliefs, and my dumb sea cucumber self can only put into feeble mutterings how important hope is. Hope has become my driving force. As bad as it seems, as bad as the government, or schools or economy are, I still believe that it has a purpose, we cannot give up, or simply whine about how bad it is. Hope puts faith into action.

I dunno what else to say, it has been a crummy day that makes me miss a lot of old friends, and really wish I could hide in a beer slushy (don't ask), but for some stupid reason, I still see the goodness, I still believe in hope. All the crap has a purpose.