The Simple Joys of a Movie

After years of waiting, my sons and I finally saw Monsters University. A movie usually is not a big deal, we see them sometimes. But for my eldest son and I, Monsters, Inc. is a moment in time, it is something we have shared, it has much deeper meaning.

When my son was 18 months old, we were shopping, I was wearing high heels, and carrying him and fell off a curb. I dropped my baby. It was the worst day of my life. He suffered severe head trauma. We knew it was bad, but when we got to the ER and they transferred us to the nearest trauma center, we knew how bad it was. My little guy has always been special to me. He was my first and only 100% natural birth, he bonded with me in a different way, he made me feel alive, until I was hit with postpartum depression. Then, he was the only thing that kept me going, my love for him, my desire to provide life giving milk for him, and his cute fat little face. It passed, but at the end, he was there, smiling, not knowing how he saved me.Now, he was lying helpless in a trauma unit crib and there was nothing I could do to help him.

After many hours of tests, crying and worry, he was to be observed for 48 hours. I was in shock, my baby was not allowed to be held, to be nursed, to be mine. Worst of all, I was reported to DCFS for inflicting a head wound on my child. As if I would EVER hurt this precious baby I adored, but that is exactly what I was accused of. Thankfully, that was resolved, but, it haunts me to this day, for my work I frequently have to have DCFS background checks, and it is on my record. I have to explain to future employers the circumstances of that day. It hurts every time, I usually tear up explaining.

 My baby went home 72 hours after the start of our horror, with the restriction that he needed to sit in the dark and not move. Did mention he was an 18 month old boy?? And a super active on at that. We needed to keep him as unstimulated as possible.I sent my daughter off to family for a week, and bought the only movie we had not seen yet, Monsters, Inc. We spent the week watching it over and over and over. I loved it, it made me cry, like all Pixar films. Even better, it kept the toddler happy and quiet and nestled on my lap.

Now, unlike most movies that we watch ad nauseum, Monsters, Inc.endured. And as that son grew, into a snuggly boy, he would always suggest that movie as his first pick when asked what we should watch. It almost became a joke how often he would suggest it. For some reason, I always let him watch it, and we always snuggled on the sofa. His siblings hate that he always wins that movie, but, for us, it is special, and we still love it. His laugh is so light, so full of life and joy, I secretly let him watch it to hear that melodious sound.

That boy is now a terribly awkward 12 year old. He is lanky, really lanky, he is smart, he is OCD, he is sweet, tender and still likes to cuddle. He still has the best laugh. We have been talking about the sequel since we heard about it. We planned a date, he and I , and we let his brother join us to keep the peace at home.Finally, the day arrives, and I did not have hopes for it being good, but, without giving away anything, it is what he needed right now and frankly, a wonderful movie. It is about a guy who has hopes, but they are unrealistic, it is about making real friends, it is about the underdog coming out on top through hard work. That is my boy. He is so amazingly smart, but he has to work, he gets picked on my his peers, he is never picked first for things, but he has the sweetest heart and an unrealistic hope. It is a beautiful thing. I can't quite explain why Sully and Mike have stuck with us, but like the wounds of that day, they have. I am so thankful..

Mom ate her Wheaties, you kids better watch out!

My kids knew there would be trouble today. They had clues when I decided that amidst their complaints about history, I was reading it aloud, dramatically. When they complained, I did my best Ben Stein in Ferris Bueller reading of it, and then, when they couldn’t take that, Professor Umbridge.

That’s right wee ones, complain as much as you can, I had copious amounts of coffee and you can’t beat me down today. As if the middle kingdom of Egypt ala Dolores Umbridge wasn’t enough, I had a video, about the subject. Oh, the torture, mom using their entertainment device for school. How dare I!?!

Then, I went on to make honey cake, for the Feast of St. Ambrose, and read them works of St. Ambrose, they didn’t think his tongue was honey after 20 minutes of his writing, brought down to kiddie level.

Once mom is in the kitchen, she might as well make peanut butter balls, and chimichurri and chocolate syrup, right? That is normal for a Tuesday. But poor little lambs, mom made them do the math for the triple recipe. Again, something they like almost ruined by school. For shame!

I can’t promise this will ever happen again, but with a lack of sleep and a programmable coffee maker, it is entirely possible.

You might be a crazy Home schooling mother if...

The day your new science Curricula comes, you are giddy to the point of not being able to speak. Or you decide even though just last night you were talking about burn out, you decide to school through summer for the sheer joy of using said books.
Did I mention these science book are set to music. I have died and gone to former choir director heaven! Finally all of those years of Music theory, private (expensive) voice lessons and late nights in practice rooms pay off! I can now sing about the Scientific Method! But I still might giggle singing about the Reproductive system. So what I teach NFP to adults, I don't sing it, but now that that tune is in my mind, I can only imagine, what will my husband will think!

My goal is to get them to Heaven, not Harvard

This should be my mantra. I need to constantly remind myself that just because I home school and overall my kids are smart, they can be average, and there is nothing wrong with that. I've been stressing myself out that I am not teaching them a thing. This has been a rough year, we haven't been as diligent in getting all of our school done. I've been beating myself up, my kids will be failures because in third grade I spent too much time teaching the 20th century, and not enough on handwriting.

My oldest is in Jr. High, which is more stressful. People expect her to go to school in 2 years. She is not going. She wants to stay home. I'm happy to oblige. I'm feeling pressure to make sure she can get into the best High School, even if she will not attend. She, like me, stinks at math. Obviously, I taught her her wrong, right?

It is so easy as mom to blame myself, but the reality is God will work in spite of me.

Cardinal Ennio Antonelli is my Hero!

From Zenit today..

Cardinal: Stay-at-Home Moms Need to Be Paid

Pontifical Council President Urges Family-Friendly Economics

ROME, MARCH 1, 2010 (Zenit.org).- The president of the Pontifical Council for the Family is stressing the importance of work done by those in the home and suggesting economic compensation for it.

Cardinal Ennio Antonelli called for financial and professional perks to encourage families when he spoke on "Family and Business, Vital Cells of Society," at a meeting of the Catholic Union of Businessmen and Executives (UCID) in Rome.

His proposals were reported last Friday in the Italian edition of L'Osservatore Romano.

During his address the Italian cardinal stressed that "domestic work deserves economic recognition."

He also said that "numerous families deserve special reductions and financial facilities," pointing to the examples of France and Germany where "families with three children pay €2,000 [$2,720] or €3,000 [$4,080] less."

The Vatican official noted that raising a family and seeking a career outside the home are compatible for women, but he urged support services: day care centers in businesses and neighborhoods, and for the elderly and handicapped, other social services.

He also pointed out the importance of offering women a "variety of opportunities in professional work: part-time work, telework, flexibility of hours and vacations."

Cardinal Antonelli cautioned against the price paid by marriage and family when women see careers and social success as the path to self-fulfillment. And he pointed out the negative effects when dads are absent from families.

I love it when they get it!

It seems like a rare occasion that my children make a connection between historical events, but when they do, Ahh! I'm sure they get it more than they let me know, after all, mom might get a big ego or get prideful if she knew she was a decent teacher.

Today we studied Hitler's rise to power. I asked the question, "Who did Hitler Blame?" and got a good response, " The Jews, just like in the Story of Ester". We studied Ester yesterday. They saw the connection, they got it.

My greatest hope in spending far too much time dwelling on history has been that my children will see how it does repeat itself. My greater hope, is that they will become active citizens to prevent some of that repetition in their lifetime. One connection down, a million more to go.

I love homeschooling!

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.

Raising Adults

I had a revelation this week, and honestly, I'm not sure why it took me so long. These little (or not so little in the cast of the 11 yr. old female!) are going to grow up someday and not have me to butter their toast. They need to learn to do this on their own.

Sure, my kids do chores , and plenty of other independent things, they have responsibilities, but I still baby them as much as I can. The youngest is almost 5, and I still baby him far too much. I had a vision of him, 30, in my home, with me doing all the things I do now for him, that he could do on his own. Frightening. There is a time for babying and a time for training up children to be independent adults. The time has come for more lessons in the later.

Sure, I will still cook for them, but why can't I expect them to help with the cooking? They all need to learn to sort and wash clothes eventually, why not at least give them a taste of it now? It seems like common sense, which is why I'm so embarrassed I forgot. But what seems so logical has become a lost mentality.

My husband manages a store, and several of his staff still live at home, well into their 20's, and depend upon their parents for a car, home and food. I was married at 22, and had a child at 23. It is completely ridiculous that this is becoming common place. We are becoming a nation of children in adult bodies. China has been struggling with this same problem for a few years now, because of the doting that one child receives.

The 4th of July is a reminder of our Nation's Independence, let's try to be patriotic, and raise our children to be independent adults.

Double speak?

I think I'm preaching to the Choir a bit, we all know kids are gifts, right? But I am getting tired of being told my MY CHURCH kids are not welcome. You know, the looks when they make noise, the "oh, sorry, adults only" message at devotions, I can tolerate these, but today, I am mad. I was told that I could not bring my kids with me to a meeting. Now I know that kids do not belong everywhere, trust me, I leave them home ALL THE TIME. This was different, it was a 45 minute meeting and my boys brought entertainment, they actually behaved, too. I had not choice either. Well, that was two weeks ago, today my boys, were accused of defacing the church. They were the only kids who coudl have possible doen it, no other children are ever in the room. Normally, to quote Bill Crosby, there would be beatings. This time, though, I really doubt they were to blame. I was with them, watching them, and they were not being trouble, I find it hard to believe they scuffed the walls. Now before you say, sure lady, not YOUR kids, hear me out. I am the first to blame them for any mess within 100 feet. But this time, I cannot see who they could have, they just didn't have the time or opportunity. 

The bigger problem is one I've felt for years, you have to chose to be a parent or to be involved in church. From my early teens I wondered why young adults were not involved in parishes. Now I know, once you have kids, the welcome sign disappears. The irony is that this ministry is to help women in crisis pregnancies, a Pro-life ministry, yet the double message, no children welcome. Being a good faithful law abiding Catholic woman means that sometimes, YOU HAVE KIDS. When will our culture wake up and realize that? There has to be a way to be both involved in a church and a parent. Thanks for listening to my rant. Next week, Cry rooms and the Culture of Death!

Sometimes it's Best to Not Say it Out Loud

At least in the presence of a 4 year old who might repeat what you say. Take for example, my feelings about the current weather resulting in the 4 year old declaring, " I'm gonna kick that damn groundhog if I ever see him! Six more weeks of winter" when he was cold.Hmmm, wonder where he heard that one?

Motto for Motherhood, Expect the Unexpected.

Like your son throwing up all over the church 4 minutes before the Ash Wednesday evening Mass begins.  Father DeSalvo's only commnet, "Second one today". 

Me Know Music

What exactly happens to the knowledge that once dwelled in our brains daily after a few years of non-use? This is the great mystery I need to solve. Twice this week I have been asked to define a music theory term, and the answer was pathetic. I used to be able to spout off this kind of stuff. Where did the knowledge go? 

I've heard theories, the best was that the knowledge that filled a brain pre-children goes out with the milk. So after 11 years of nursing kids, my brain should be pretty empty. That would explain the fact that I now respond to simple questions like a cave-woman. 

The sad thing is that this very useful knowledge has been replaced by other information, like the names of every Star Wars guy that litters my living room floor. Or even better, how to make a paper water bomb. How could this info be more important than the definition of fugue? 

At this point all the Ginkgo in the world cannot help, I guess it is time to just give in. So if you ask me an intelligent question, and I look glazed over, use small words and hand gesture, and maybe I can come up with a two word answer.

Dressing the pre-teen

This is my dilemma of the week. My 10 year old is 5'4" and therefore cannot wear kid's clothes. She loves skirts. But, have you seen the skirts this season??? My husband refers to them as glorified belts. Thankfully my daughter isn't fond of them, but we have not been able to find her skirts she likes. This is the problem, she wants to look modern and a bit trendy, but not cheap, she wants to be modest, but not Amish. Where is the happy medium, and where can I buy it! I've tried the thrift shops, but the ones by my home are gross. I've shopped and shopped, and only come home with one skirt. 

Pants are not much better. She likes jeans, but again, this year, they are not right. The tight look is in, and she hates tight. Again, she wants to look young but wants to dress modestly. Ugh, why is it so hard to find clothes that are cute, modern and modest?

Radiators are NOT funny

Especially at Mass. 

In my feeble efforts to pray the O, Antiphons, I've been dragging wee ones with me to daily mass this week. We go to a very old church for daily mass, and said church has beautifully covered radiators. You cannot see them, as they are hidden, so it is much harder for kiddies to get injured. This does not mean they are not there, as I found out today. During the Consecration, the silence of the church was slightly broken by the hissing of the radiator. Leave it to my middle guy to take notice. "Mom, is that a giant tea-kettle" he asks, "Shhh, later" mom responds. "No wait, it sounds like a plan crashing!" he adds louder, at this his sister bursts out laughing. So much for the silence. If it ended there, I would have been fine, but Noooo, of course it couldn't! We went to communion, and as we sat back down, the hissing had increased in volume, middle guy cracks up, loudly. I hid, and place his head into my shirt, to muffle the sound, but then, it gets worse. I cannot hold back the laughter myself. His laugh is magical, it makes me laugh, then his sister returns, laughing, of course. Ugh, no where to hide! It took all the lip biting in the world to not cause a major scene. Why, oh, why did the radiator have to make so much hysterical sound??? 

A child's laughter

You hear all sorts of anecdotes about a child's laughter, but some are just too cute for me. I'm not a big fan of cute. My son sits next to me as I type ROARING, folded over in laughter, his laugh is LOUD, and he extends the end quite a bit, but I am laughing at him laughing. His laugh is almost maniacal, it is not a giggle, but a full body laugh. His laugh has made the whole house brighter, we are all laughing, mostly at him, but it is a most amazing thing. A dull tired Saturday night has been transformed by the sound of his laugh, for nearly the last two hours we all have been much happier, no kids are fighting, no kids are complaining, but everyone is light, all because of my son's good sense of humor.

If you are curious about what he cannot resist laughing at, Snoopy. Yep, 40 year old Charlie Brown cartoons on ABC family have my son doubled over in tears of laughter. 

Squeaky Clean

My son made his First confession this morning. Despite being nervous, and having a 4 year old brother who would not behave, he did great. I love being a mom just for moments like this. He came out, all smiles, and announced, "My  soul was so clean I could jump super high." He then announced he needed a shower, so his body was as clean as his soul. After a shower, he asked for the first time in months, if his siblings would play the "Jesus Game" with him. This game is where the 3 act act out different scenes from the Life of Christ. A little sacramental grace goes a long way, my boy is squeaky clean once more!

My Faith and the Three year old

I had a profound religious experience today. Cheesy as it may sound, it was one of those, Oh, I Get It moments. Our parish was all smells and bells, as it should be, for the feast of Corpus Christi. My kids were being good, as they waited for mass to begin, so I was able to to read the Magnificat meditation of the day. I came across a passage concerning St. Loenidas and his son St. Origen. It said that according to Eusebius, Leonidas used to kneel by the bedside of the sleeping Origen and deoutly and reverently kiss his son's breast as the Tabernacle wherein God dwelt. The child in his innocence and grace is the fittest home on Earth for God. The fact that I was sitting with my three beautiful children, in front of the Blessed Sacrament may have helped, but I was moved very deeply.

Fast forward about 5 minutes, Mass has begun, and Father is using the incense. My three year old had been quiet too long, and begins asking questions, what is that (It's incense, like in your little Mass kit), why is Father swinging it (he is blessing everything). Then I asked What does it smell like to you? And he gave me the most unexpected answer, Like my prayers are being carried to God. Yes, this is not a smell, but Gosh, this is the indwelling of the spirit, in my child. That pure innocence, that total unitedness with God. He is three, but his answer echos the psalms, which I'm not sure he would recognize. Throughout the rest of the mass, one thing after another made me realize, the meaning of being childlike.

I was never childlike, even as a child, and I have understood divine filiation on a very intellectual level, but, this moment, and moments like this, have opened my eyes to so much. I now wonder how I could ever grow in faith, without my kids. God has shown me Himself, though them. So many things my three year old has said, I do not remember telling him or teaching him, it is the naturalness that comes from innocence and grace.

They are my path to heaven, not just from the vocation to motherhood being my work, but through the many lessons I will learn from them. Rest assured, the three year old still had to be hauled out of the church in trouble at least once, for being, well, three, but that too is my path to heaven.

Nice story about a big homeschooling family

Truth be told, this is one of my best friends! I'm just so happy she was featured in the paper for Mother's Day. The article is way to short to say just how awesome this woman is. It does not mention that on any give day she has 10 kids at her house that are not hers, or that she will drop anything at a moment's notice to help a friend. It also couldn't mention that fact that she is so dedicated to others knowing the joy of being a mother that she gives a huge amount of time to the pro-life movement and that she "camped out" at the PP clinic prior to opening all night many many nights. I guess they couldn't cover everything! Happy Mother's Day to all the busy, under appreciated mama's out there.