All right, I’m back.

The voices in my little red head are getting too loud, so it is time to blog again. Nothing special is going on, the kiddies did a play. I agree to these things to enrich their lives, and forget they kill mine.

I am now officially a doula in training, with a pending certification, anyone wanna give birth with me there, that is seriously all I need. I’m begging the hubby for new floors, and in the process doing all I can to make the currently floor look bad ie vacuuming as little as possible. But being that Chicago weather is as logical as its politics, we had a freeze/ warm up/ freeze pattern, so now we have ants. Good times. So instead of dealing with the little critters, I’m here and the kids are making cookies. That’s how we roll. Dang, there is one on my foot, now where is that vacuum?

See, this is what I am talking about

The small details of the Catholic world, like forgiveness of even the most horrible sins, gives me great hope. Take that creepy goth kids!

Pilgrimage anyone?

 

Now there is notneed to go to Mexico, Europe, but you do have to suffer through potentially getting stuck behind a deer carcass this time of year. The first approved U.S. Marian Apparition is in Green Bay!

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.

And the Heavens Shall Proclaim His Glory…

For your advent pleasure and devotion, an Advent calendar using images from the Hubble Telescope. And just think, He made the heavens and the earth, and we are still, millions of years later, only now discovering their majesty.

This is Why I Love Being Catholic!

I’m spending my day cramming as much about different methods of childbirth into my little brain as possible, and I have a moral question. it is regarding hypnosis. I email a few people and then hit Google. Lo and behold, Pope Pius XII has an answer! I would not have expected a brilliant answer on pain in childbirth from the Pope, yet, I am not surprised. I love being Catholic, my life is so much easier and my brain is so much happier!

Is it wrong?

It has been a busy weekend, good, but busy. I got to chaperone a Youth 2000, pick up a quarter of grass-fed beef, chaperone again, and see the new Harry Potter movie with two of my kids. This week will be busy, too, but still good.

This week is what I commonly refer to as hell week. My husband is a retail manager, and after today, I will not see much of him, except Christmas day, until Mid-January. I’m used to it, but it stinks. I look so forward to a peaceful Christmas, but we rarely get one, and this year looks worse than normal.

I love our families, but for Holidays, they make me insane. Despite the fact that I have sung 11:30 Mass every week, and feast day for 6+ years, they seem to forget this fact and plan Christmas ( and Easter!) for 10am. Fun times. We get there after the food is gone, very hungry, tired (we leave our house for Mass at 10am, and begin our fast at 9) and desiring to relax. Keep in mind, my husband has worked 30 days of insanity by Christmas.

I’m considering ditching them. yep, skipping the big family celebration in lieu of just the 5 of us. Last year, it was the same scenario, and everyone in our house was upset. Before the kids could eat, they had to have pictures, and then open presents, which they got yelled at for doing the “wrong way”. We got home and had to scrounge to find food to eat on Christmas day, it as not dreamy or relaxing, it was stressful and upsetting. As a family we made a pact to not do the same thing again.

Fast forward to this year, where it is looking like it will be even worse. The family is ending the festivities at 3. Meaning we will only have 1 hour, if even. That brings me to the question above, is it wring to ditch the larger family for a day of peace and joy with the smaller one. Talk amongst yourselves….

Adventures in Worm Herding

Yes, Worm herding. I, being the tree hugging eco geek I am, have a worm bin for compost. We’ve had it for almost 4 months, and until tonight, it was a happy worming experience.

Tonight, worms escaped. And, all of this happened of course, while my eldest was babysitting. There are casualties, which someday, I will scrape off the bottom of the kitchen cabinet, bit right now, it is 11pm, and I have a glass of wine in hand, so dead wormies can wait until tomorrow.

Why worms? Well, being a homeschooling family, we cannot do anything like normal people, almost rotten pears cannot simply go in a trash bag. banish the thought! They need to be fed to 800+ red wigglers to become fertilizer for my plants.

Our “first family” of worms was happy, they never got into trouble, they were just picky. We cared for them and even upgraded their ugly plastic tub to a different larger plastic tub. But they seemed lonely in there, so we bought them friends. These friends were a bit bigger and clearly liked to party. There is a good chance the “first family” is no longer, but I haven’t dug through the worm poop to see. The new worms decided they wanted to venture out, out from the yellow tub, and explore under the sink. Not so nice there, was it guys, several of you keeled over!

There is a lesson in all of this for the kids, of course. No, not that worms cannot be trusted, but that you need to be careful when you venture out that you have a plan to get back. Without a plan, you may never find your way, just like slimy and his buddies.

Planning for the Future

I was raised by a working mom, she always worked and was never home. It was hard for us, but it did instill in my the idea that women cannot sit and be still. I have a different take, My kids need me, but I have a little job, 8-12 hours per week, when my husband is home. Honestly, it is very fulfilling.

I can’t see myself at this job forever, though. I’m getting old(er). In ten years, I’ll be in my mid-forties, and my youngest will be in his late teens. As of now, there are no babies to need me. So, I’m trying to think of what I will do with the second half of my life. I gave my twenties and thirties to babies and raising children, but, they will leave me and I don’t handle idleness well.

What to do? I’m looking at what I can do in the near future, that will can become a career in ten years. I can’t fall back on what I did pre-kids. I was 23 when I left a computer company, they have since folded, and all I learned is out of date. I’m thinking of doing something that I can tie into my pro-life work. Anything I can do to help the moms at the pregnancy center will make my work even more enjoyable.

Pray for me, I know what I want to do, but I’m scared, I don’t handle change well, and the way things are unfolding, I know God’s hand is on all of this.

Belloc on November

[Month of] November

November is that historied Emperor,
Conquered in age, but foot to foot with fate,
Who from his refuge high has heard the roar
Of squadrons in pursuit, and now, too late,
Stirrups the storm and calls the winds to war,
And arms the garrison of his last heirloom,
And shakes the sky to its extremest shore
With battle against irrevocable doom.
Till, driven and hurled from his strong citadels,
He flies in hurrying cloud and spurs him on,
Empty of lingerings, empty of farewells
And final benedictions, and is gone.
But in my garden all the trees have shed
Their legacies of the light, and all the flowers are dead.

Hilaire Belloc