the Pause

Ugh!!! Traffic is not my most favorite thing, especially when my sweethearts are dragging their heels, toes, arms, backpacks, whatever they have. And we're late. But, honestly, we usually aren't these days. Our oldest has grown so incredibly responsible and really has her stuff together. (Proud mama moment!) And the middle actually does, too. Even the littlest usually has her things lined up, ready to go. And the only hurry we run through is usually the morning rituals and getting ready. So lately, we kindof have this thing down. And once the indoor rush is over, we can usually handle whatever traffic issues we may encounter.

And we have time for the pause.

This blessed pause has spared my sure demise so many times. I remember my parents telling my 14 year old self that was learning how to drive to "never immediately go when the light turns green." I think that is probably the most important traffic rule of thumb out there. And blinkers. For the love of God, please be courteous to others and use them. But anyway - I can't tell you how many times I've paused at a green light and have avoided a red-light runner traveling at the speed of sound hitting me broadside.

The pause has undoubtedly spared us all.

Why we are in such a hurry I will never understand. I've become a forced early riser thanks to the local high school's before sunrise start time. There's no way on earth I will let my first born princess get ready and not be awake to help her and see her off. The moments I get with her are becoming fewer and farther between, so I honestly don't mind waking early to get a little bit more of her time. I know friends, boys, school activities, and personal interests are kindof taking over. And I've prepared myself for this for a long time. I get it. I understand what phase she's at. And I will undoubtedly miss her beyond measure when she grows her little wings.

So, I've enjoyed picking her up and bringing her to school even though she can catch the bus. It gives us a little more down time of one on one, and I look forward to her stories. So making sure we leave early enough gives us The Pause together. No traffic, no hurrying, just her and me. And I don't rush it. I think even the quiet early mornings allow her time to be at peace and pause before the day officially begins.

I am thanking God for that down time today. Amidst the craziness of the last grasp - making sure they've been taught all they could while under my roof, I cherish the little non-monumental glimpses of The Pause - the do-nothing moments where we just breathe and be. The Seventh Day of our weeks where time kindof misses its speed and gives us a few empty seconds that allow God to move in and fill it with His love is something that has surely saved our lives. 

Birthdays

"We shall steer safely through every storm, so long as our heart is right, our intention fervent, our courage steadfast, and our trust fixed on God."

— St. Francis de Sales

That's the first thing I read today, on my 43rd birthday. I hope that my heart has been right, my intentions fervent, my courage steadfast, and I do have my trust fixed on God. I've been very blessed that things work out, they always do. Maybe not in the way we imagined, but they work out. And don't they for everyone if they place their trust in Him? We are still here, are we not? So something has to be working out. 

I feel like I tread water quite often - like sometimes I'm forcing a path that maybe I shouldn't be. But those words I read today helped me realize that if your reasons are noble, then the decisions you make are valid. We've really tried hard to make those big decisions with the best interests in mind. 

And they're always the harder ones, I can promise you that.

Nope, it wasn't easy bringing the kids to mass. But they're there, and their little hearts know Him and what His teachings are. They know how to treat others, and they are always willing to lend a helping hand for the benefit of mankind. 

And they know the joy in becoming selfless. 

Nope, it wasn't easy to take the kids on vacations. But they're going, and they are loving them as much as we do. I hope their memories keep the good stuff.

Nope, it wasn't easy to make dinners every (well, most - I'm not a saint) night. But we did, and the kids have healthy eating habits, and resist the temptation of gross fast food. And they are now helping make them - preparing for their grown up lives. 

Nope, it wasn't easy sitting down to dinner every night. But the laughter around the table and the unplugging and bonding is something we all treasure. Oh, yes, there were plenty of push and pull dinner eating encouragement nights, but it's ok. We're just trying to love them through brussel sprouts.

Nope, it wasn't easy making the kids do homework, keeping up with the emails, calls, and it still isn't easy. But we're getting through it, and the joy that they feel when they overcome these school obstacles creates self-confidence. And hopefully it's forming good self-driven work habits. But we're still working on that one - lol!

Nope, it wasn't, and never is easy pulling out the driveway of my parents' house and waving good-bye, knowing that I live far away from them. But I am grateful to have them in my life still. And I am grateful for the life they gave me 43 years ago today. 

Nope, it wasn't easy to do the good stuff. It wasn't easy to make the tough choices and decisions. It wasn't easy to say no, to gently encourage greatness in spirit. But when it happened, when we look back on what we did that was tough but good, we find that it was usually the right thing to do. And it's beginning to pay off. My heart is beyond full of the good stuff, and I hope that my little peon of a life mattered to a handful of the ones I've encountered. 

I'm not sure what the next 43 years hold, if I am given them. But I'm so incredibly grateful for those little times along the way that were always big to me. 

Happiness is a Pair of Ski Boots

Yesterday I got some custom ski boots. Y'all after skiing for 30 years with wide feet, a high instep, and bowed legs, the sport is getting a little uncomfortable - well, unbearably uncomfortable. As we age, our body just bends, and things don't work like they used to. So, being able to only ski one or two runs without your feet going absolutely numb is a very hefty price to pay. After slapping down the lift ticket, rentals, transportation to the resort, ski gear, etc., I'm officially deeper than broke, so we really need to get the most time we can out of this venture. That being said, our whole family loves to participate, so investing in something like ski boots seems a little justified in my mind, as terrible as that sounds.

So off we went to the sports store where, omg yes, everything is on sale! Like big sale. And the ones we got are nothing short of amazing. They adjusted them to the way I stand, the tech geared them up so that I can position myself correctly on the skis in my all powerful bow-legged glory. They are even are HEATED, and I am in heaven.

And I feel like, so totally guilty. But so incredibly grateful.

So after basking in the guilt of the investment, this morning, Zac and I went to our favorite church in South Lake Tahoe. It's led by Mauricio Hertado, and if you ever come this way, please make sure to attend one of his masses. We are moved to tears every. single. time. And today was no different. One of my most favorite passages was the Gospel today - The Beatitudes.

“Blessed are you who are poor,
for the kingdom of God is yours.

Blessed are you who are now hungry,
for you will be satisfied.

Blessed are you who are now weeping,
for you will laugh.

Blessed are you when people hate you,
and when they exclude and insult you,
and denounce your name as evil
on account of the Son of Man.

Rejoice and leap for joy on that day!

Behold, your reward will be great in heaven.
For their ancestors treated the prophets in the same way.
But woe to you who are rich,
for you have received your consolation.
Woe to you who are filled now,
for you will be hungry.
Woe to you who laugh now,
for you will grieve and weep.
Woe to you when all speak well of you,
for their ancestors treated the false
prophets in this way.”

So now, I really want to return the ski boots. I can't wholly justify them anymore. I know, I know, I probably need to allow myself a few earthly indulgences, and I think God grants these to us from time to time. But I can't shake the guilt of buying something I "need" - which brings me to the "needing" standpoint of life.

Do I need these like a poverty-stricken individual needs water?
Absolutely not.

Do I need these so that we can expose our children to something pretty wonderful?
Maybe.

The guilt is tough. It really is. But I know that I will be able to help my family better with this luxury and set a good example of endurance. Maybe, I'm not really sure. But maybe this is a grace from God. Maybe He looked down and felt that my Flintstone feet had been through enough. I'll never own designer shoes - I can promise you that! My feet don't fit in them. They never will. You should see my bulged-out flats. lol But the ski boots hold these suckers together - yabba dabba doo. ;)

So, again, I am in awe and grateful for this little slice of Heaven in the form of well, comfortable feet.

And back to Father Mauricio, in the Beatitudes, he said that "Blessed" means "Happy." And his homily - gosh I wish I had it. But basically he said that it is in suffering that we become truly happy. And no, I won't fully find it in my ski boots. In ten years, I may be dusting them off - who knows, tomorrow I could become injured and never use them again. It's always a possibility. But the happiness I find in God will never be dusted off, even in injury. His love for me and blessings are unending, and the happiness I find in Him brings me true peace.

Wonder

Thinking back to Christmas vacation, I'm reminded of a moment we shared with our little family. You see, we live in an area that drowns out the stars with a ton of light pollution and trees, so seeing about 15 stars in the sky on any clear night can be a total treat. The big constellations show up, but that's about it. Lilly has an amazing little telescope that will get ya to the craters on the moon when we can see it, and it's remarkable. We watched the eclipse of the moon a few weeks ago with it - late at night, in the middle of the road, ushering cars to drive around us because we didn't want to lose our coordinates. Yay, Wares.

We love the skies, y'all. There's something that makes you feel tiny when you look out and see a spec of the universe in a splendor that just can't be touched. We've always appreciated it, thanks to my mama pointing it out. I remember even on our honeymoon sitting at a quaint little dining area at the end of a long pier over the water. We were in Jamaica in January - it was chilly, but nice. We could see stars from horizon to horizon with very little interference, and it was breathtaking. I won't ever forget it. So any chance I get to show something remotely like this to the kids, we stop.

So yes, Christmas vacation - we were driving back to South Lake Tahoe from Yosemite with the kids. We made it a day trip, so we'd been driving for a long time, and it was late at night. There was no moon visible, and the skies were as clear as could be. I knew this forecast ahead of time, so I had mentioned earlier that if we had a chance to pull over on the drive home, I'd like to show the kids the stars. And at this point in the evening, I really had forgotten the mention, but Zac didn't.

After driving all day, he had been looking for a place to pull over, and despite how weary I'm sure he was from being a super awesome road warrior, he found a spot at the top of a mountain and drove the car to the edge of the "scenic view" area. It was, just as I had hoped, a super clear night, so the kids were in for a treat. They tumbled out into the cold, everyone wrapped in blankets and jackets, and looked up. I don't know if I've ever seen a clearer shot of the Milky Way than on this night, but there it was - and it was right smack dab in the middle of the sky. Flat, straight up giant. And the kids were in awe, as they should be. And you know what, to top it off, at the very moment we found it, a shooting star grazed right down the middle. It was pretty surreal. And my family, crazy as we are - started freaking out in the best way possible. And it was worth the stop. We still talk about it. Thanks, Z. It's those little things that make me love ya.

But back to where we were, in awe of the beauty of God's creation. Now, of course, shooting stars as we've come to know them are certainly not sweet little twinkly stars trailing a lantern across the sky - scientifically they're basically meteorites or whatever bursting through the atmosphere in a fiery rage, and the stars - some are planets, some are satellites, and some are even long burnt out. And some are our favorite from when Joe was little, "A blinking planet!" Oh that was an epic discovery by the middlest. But all of this reality - It's kindof a buzzkill if you ask me. I prefer the ignorance is bliss approach to life. I'd totally prefer to envision the airplane as the blinking planet. It probably makes for a better story in a child's imagination.

There is something to be said of the, um, I don't know...wonder.

No, I'm not pushing out reality and science, I consider myself pretty educated and realistic. I just choose not to be sometimes, which is totally ok by my standards. But I am not choosing to be uneducated or force out reality - I'm just taking an artistic, road less traveled approach to this. I am basking in the beauty of what is created before us. What HE has created. And I fall in love with it over and over again.

I think The Creation is amazing. I think science is amazing. And the interweaving of what you see because of its divine entanglement humbles me to the core. So, on Valentine's Day, let's take a moment to show our love to Him by serving, helping, loving one another and noticing some small something that brings back the wonder of the stars from when we were still very, very small.

. 

Our Daily Bread

Our Daily Bread.

I always thought it meant food. Until today. I know, crazy to admit that at this age where I am that I'm not saying, I'm just coming to a new conclusion about that statement.

Maggie's First Communion retreat is on Saturday, and they are supposed to bring in a loaf of bread. They said it can be any type of bread. It's symbolic and will be blessed, so we are supposed to make sure we consume it or dispose of any leftovers properly, according to tradition.

It's kindof funny going to the grocery store within a few hours of the retreat. You'll see a slew of parents buying a single loaf of bread, and the puzzled looks on the clerks faces are priceless. They often remark at it even, wondering why everyone is coming in to buy a single loaf, and nothing else. But we like to bake ours.

LOL - ha ha, not from scratch. I would like to try that, but I simply don't have time. We use the frozen bread loaf that comes from the freezer section. It thaws, then rises, and we place it in the oven to bake. It's really the best bread ever. Of course, if you are a connoisseur, you will probably beg to differ. But I'm not talking about the taste of it. You see, after it comes out of the oven, it's all warm and wonderful. And when you smear a tiny bit of real butter on a slice of it, it melts into perfection. And it takes me back to a very much simpler time.

My grandmother made the same kind, and she had a wooden block that was carved out to hold a loaf of bread. All along the sides were slits to make sure you sliced it evenly. I'd sit at the olive green formica counter top on a swivel stool and watch her cut pieces of it to serve with Sunday dinner. And she'd always give me a slice. Now I don't like bread. Never did. I'm not sure why, but I just don't. But this bread, well, it's special. And like I said, takes me back to a time when just being a little girl was my most important job.

And it was a very important job that I took quite seriously. I loved my grandmothers with all I had. As I aged and moved away from home, I called them every chance I got - the relationship between a grandparent and a grandchild is pretty special, y'all. I learned so much from them. They were so sweet, patient, and stopped whatever it was they were doing to talk to me. I suppose the gift granted to them is the wisdom to have lived enough to realize the importance of family and time. Too bad we all don't get that sooner.

So I thought I'd celebrate their lives again - I wanted to honor them still. And this year, Maggie's bread was baked in Grandma Sammie's loaf pan. We will slice it in the little bread box that she passed down to me. And it will be blessed at the retreat where we pass on a legacy. For where in the world would we be without our grandmothers' prayers? I had two incredible examples of faith, and I do realize the treasure they gave to me, to our whole family, in this. Those little eyes watched you, sweet grandmothers, thank you so much for lending your ears to listen and for showing us your ways that gently guided us along.

And I realize that Our Daily Bread is more than just food. Today I see it as the Daily Grind. Those challenging moments that make us better and feed our souls. How special is the loaf that we had to wait for, baked with love in our own kitchen. The tough parts weren't so tough after all.

After all, the bread is delicious.

And then there were two

Two. Two in high school. How can this be? Weren't we just rocking you to sleep? (or not to sleep, that is the question.) The first one's orientation was definitely an arrow through the heart - this awful realization that they are about to experience what seemed pretty fresh on my mind pierced deeply. Although my high school days are far behind me, I still feel like I'm there. But I'm like, way not there. And how many more tuck ins are left? Let's not even go there. I'm not ready at all.

So I sat with Joe during the "Electives Night" at the local high school - it was filled with parents & kids like us. Everyone jam-packed into the cafeteria, sampling all of the fun stuff the school has to offer. There were food offerings from the language clubs, a drone flying above the JrROTC booth, moms greeting other moms, and me - trying to place names with faces I sort of recognized from when the children were in elementary school together. People change a lot in 4-5 years, especially kids. So I put on my baseball cap & just kindof moseyed through the crowd and ended up in the dark auditorium where the administration tells ya how it's done.

Joe & I sat on the very last row. He picked it. And when the first speaker came out, Joe flashed "SOS" in morse code with the light on his cellphone. I hurriedly covered it up, but at the same time, that old familiar high school smirk reappeared beneath my aged skin. It was kindof funny. Totally disrespectful, but I admit, I felt the same way, buddy. How did we get here, and can somebody please save us? This ride we're on is spinning out of control.

But we've got it. After all, I've set a tracker on your cellphones, kids. And if you end up anywhere you're not supposed to be, Mama Bear's going in. And that even means if the tracker is turned off. I WILL find you. And it won't be a pretty sight. At least when we get home. Your friends don't need to see my angry elf side.

You'll probably be embarrassed of me. And that's ok. It's normal. You'll probably think that I'm too strict, and we'll go back & forth about privileges that other kids have that you don't. That's ok, too. And one day, you'll thank me just like I thanked my mom, and just like she thanked her mom, and so on. You'll mess up. You're supposed to. You'll feel unloved, unpopular, unworthy, and someone will most certainly break your heart. We all felt that way. It's part of the struggle that makes us better people. I don't want to see you go through it, but you probably will. Know this:

I was sitting in one of those parent conferences at church and heard one of the leaders say something I won't forget. She told her children "that there is nothing that you can do that I won't love you through, and God won't get you through." Amen, sista. It's the truest.

So our babies, (yes, you always will be - get used to it) know that at home, you will feel loved, popular, & worthy, and we will never break your heart. At home, you will always be safe, and I will rock you as long as you let me. At home, you will find that God is above all, and He's got this.

Good luck in high school, our brave middle child. It's lucky to have you (and your big sister, who I know always has your back.)

Prep

Our oldest daughter loves eggs. Like LOVES them. She even wrote a post about them. She wakes up early every morning to make them to perfection. I, on the other hand, am a little grossed out by devouring the (basically) amniotic fluid of an unfertilized chicken. But the sweet little nugget loves 'em.  And because she gets up super early, she's tired. So I thought, well, maybe if we prepped the week's eggs, she could have a little more time in the mornings. (And the house wouldn't smell like feet.) So we made 24 egg "muffins" yesterday. Some had bacon & ham, some had bacon, ham, & cheese, some had just cheese, and some were just plain seasoned eggs. It took all of 30 minutes from prep to completion, and we put them in a ziploc bag in the fridge.

So this morning, she just popped a couple in the microwave & had a few blessed extra minutes before school.

She said it was great, but she liked her freshly prepared eggs. Ok, no bigs. It was worth a shot. But I get it. The fresh are better for sure. And it's totally ok. But how about having extra time? Was that nice? I thought so. We had an uneventful morning anyway. Except that Joe is texting me every thirty minutes so I will bring a raw potato to school. He wants to charge his earbuds with a potato. Apparently he charged them with an orange yesterday, so he's stepping up his game. And some kid said he'll give him $10 for a potato. My little entrepreneur.

Alrighty then.

Back to prepping. It reminded me of all of the stuff we did along the way while raising a family. I thought about all of the times we wrangled kids into doing things they didn't exactly want to do, but that would benefit them later. Church, for example. I cannot tell you how many times we've walked back & forth to the cry room or how many bladders I've probably ruined because I said "Go to the bathroom BEFORE church because we are not going during the hour we are there." And I stuck to my guns. Now, they potty before church without prompting, and we survive a mass without a bathroom sprint. Most of the time.

So basically, I tell the kids that the harder decision is usually the right one. If it's tougher to do now, you will reap the benefits later.

And it's so true. Even though the eggs weren't exactly what she loves, I did enjoy our time together making them. And I hope she enjoys the morning pause. 

Weekend Warrior

Hello, Monday. I'm so happy to see you. Really, I really am. I wish I could have slept in a little more, but it's ok. I know one day I'll miss waking up to a house full of kids that I've got to taxi all over the place. And I mean that with all of my heart.

We did a LOT this weekend, as usual, and I'm grateful for it. And on Sunday, we brought it to a nice little close. Nope, we didn't watch much of the Super Bowl. I'm from Louisiana, so I kindof chose to boycott it. And because I didn't feel like making football snacks. It's the main reason we watch it. We usually make sausage puffs, tiny weenies in BBQ sauce, some sort of chip & dip, and whatever else everyone requests. But this year, no snacks. I'm so sorry, kids - I just wasn't up for the clean up. And this year we had to watch it because Joe got extra credit for writing down his favorite commercials. So we watched about 10 minutes of it. That's it. And I hear we didn't miss much. No bigs, we left the room & de-cluttered our spaces. Again. I think Lilly won the Super Bowl of getting rid of clutter. YEAH!!!!

But before the didn't watch Super Bowl, we decided to go to mass. Same old getting ready routine - pick out clothes, eat at least an hour before, comb hair, brush the teeth. No one wants to smell anyone else's church breath. I don't know why it smells like that, but it does. I think the whispering has some sort of magical power that yields a certain flavor of halitosis. So I stand with my foot tapping and wait for everyone to "floss, brush, and rinse" IN THAT ORDER. But once we got there & settled, it's all worth the effort. Every. Single. Time. (Especially when there's a bonus restaurant meal after - yay, Chili's!) Anyway, yesterday's second reading at church was surely, like Father Tom said, one of the most memorized scriptures out there. It's used at almost all weddings, and it calls my attention for sure. It brings back sweet memories when the world was mostly ahead of us, and we were starting a tremendous chapter of our lives.

It's this one: First Corinthians 12:31- 13:13. We all know it or have heard it at least once.

Here it is:

"Set your mind on the higher gifts. And now I am going to put before you the best way of all.

Though I command languages both human and angelic -- if I speak without love, I am no more than a gong booming or a cymbal clashing.

And though I have the power of prophecy, to penetrate all mysteries and knowledge, and though I have all the faith necessary to move mountains -- if I am without love, I am nothing.

Though I should give away to the poor all that I possess, and even give up my body to be burned -- if I am without love, it will do me no good whatever.

Love is always patient and kind; love is never jealous; love is not boastful or conceited,
it is never rude and never seeks its own advantage, it does not take offense or store up grievances.

Love does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but finds its joy in the truth.
It is always ready to make allowances, to trust, to hope and to endure whatever comes.

Love never comes to an end. But if there are prophecies, they will be done away with; if tongues, they will fall silent; and if knowledge, it will be done away with.

For we know only imperfectly, and we prophesy imperfectly; but once perfection comes, all imperfect things will be done away with.

When I was a child, I used to talk like a child, and see things as a child does, and think like a child; but now that I have become an adult, I have finished with all childish ways.

Now we see only reflections in a mirror, mere riddles, but then we shall be seeing face to face. Now I can know only imperfectly; but then I shall know just as fully as I am myself known.

As it is, these remain: faith, hope and love, the three of them; and the greatest of them is love."

I'm afraid really can't offer much interpretation on this reading - I think it is so perfectly scripted. The only thing I can offer is how I have understood it through the years.  When I was younger, it was a very optimistic reading. Something I thought I grasped, but never really offered. Now when I hear it, it applies to so much more than a starry-eyed girl's hope for the future, and my heart fills beyond the brim. I hope I've practiced it as best as I could. I really did try. And hearing it again still brings hope, but from the downhill slope. As I age, the meaning deepens to a level that is beyond me.

And I realize that Love IS
the answer. To everything.

Love slows us down and gently nudges us, as if to say, "Wake Up. It truly is this Simple."

Groundhog Day!

Well, it's Groundhog Day. Whatever that means. All I can think about is Bill Murray and that movie. He just kept trying and trying until he got it right. Over and over again. Every day, the same day - trying to relive something beautiful but overexerting himself, throwing caution to the wind, or taking advantage of some poor lady just trying to teach him how to play the piano.

Epic, Bill. Totally something I would do. But maybe I'd go back in the end and pay for all of the lessons. I do possess that infamous Catholic Guilt.

I have no idea if the little rodent saw his shadow today. It's novel and fun, and the kids make a bunch of crafts at school about it. My favorite was the Dixie cup with a Groundhog stuck to popsicle stick. It poked through the bottom so you could animate it to pop up and down. It was stellar. I think we still have it somewhere. Or maybe I took a picture of it, who knows? It was cute.

But today, I feel like Bill on about day 5. Wake up, strongly encourage better behavior from one or more of the kids by probably raising my voice, feed them, prepare food for lunch for them, get them to school (not today - it's Saturday, homeboys), run errands, work, exercise, check emails, work, check emails, coordinate calendars, pick up kids, take them to extra curriculars, feed them, dictate homework and baths, tuck them in, pass out cold.

Wake up, start again. Five days out of every week during the school year. Why oh why did we not homeschool???

Every Friday rolls around, and you think, "Yay, a breather!" Nope. Not a breather. Kids want to do stuff. WHAT? Do stuff? Nobody wants to lay around in their jammies all day and veg out? Ok, I don't want to do that either. But a clean house would be nice. No one really really wants to do that. Not even me. But it is what it is.

I remember feeling this way even before kids. My young life was measured in holidays. I marked my years by them and wondered how much more of this I could take. Even Christmas seemed like a chore. I know, how tragic, right?

But then new people show up. And life is magical again. Maybe it was a newborn baby, perhaps someone met someone special and brought them into our little circle. A puppy can bring joy for sure. I even got a goldfish one year. We named her Cleo. Dude, that fish died and came back to life. Not even kidding. She froze and rose from the dead three days later like Jesus. And I'm ashamed to admit that I didn't clean out her bowl, but I was working full time, and puppy training, so poor Cleo just kindof lay dormant until she, well, rose from the dead.

My point is, the new life that was there made all of the difference. It made things exciting again and gave us a different perspective on the mundane. We were able to see our world with fresh eyes in sharing our joy with those new ones around us. Getting caught up in daily life is easy, and trying to relive the same moments again and again will drive anyone insane. I think there's a quotation out there that defines insanity as trying to do the same thing over and over while expecting different results.

But the newness, the touch of someone or some living thing somehow brings out the best in us. When we are given something to care for, we become a better version of ourselves. I don't know why, but we do. I guess that's why I never stop trying. I've got some VIPs watching every move I make, and the accountability that I have is working so hard to become the person I wish I was.

Groundhog - I figured you out today. You didn't see your shadow. But I'm sure it saw you. Thanks for the spring prediction. Those new little flowers will need my care soon, and I just can't wait to celebrate our blessed cycle for another lap around the sun.

Birthday Month

February. Holy Moly. 2019 is soaring faster than ever. And here we are in February. It's my birthday month. It's the month my parents became parents. Ah, wait - no it isn't. It's the day they held their anticipated baby in their arms.

They became parents in May.

I became a parent in December of 2002 - the only visible sign was a faint blue line that didn't even show up until the next day. And that's just about all I ever saw. That precious baby is in my prayers still, along with his / her living brother and sisters. And I'm trying to live my best life so that I may one day know baby #1 for keeps.

Lucky for us, we were given three more little miracles, and I am so incredibly grateful to have held those babies in my arms and raise them according to His instruction. The joy they have brought us outweighs any tough morning we have. And our home, though chaotic at (most) times, is full of love.

In our world, my heart is broken for what is going on. I understand the reasoning behind what the laws are for, but I can't accept it. We all know that it will be misused at the highest level, the laws are often bent and broken according to whoever holds the deepest pockets, even in cases of intense morality...infanticide.

"Let us also love our neighbors as ourselves. Let us have charity and humility...We must not be wise and prudent according to the flesh. Rather we must be simple, humble and pure. We should never desire to be over others. Instead, we ought to be servants who are submissive to every human being for God's sake." St. Francis of Assisi

So sortof a sad little post for today. But the day I became a parent, I knew that my life was no longer my own. I mean, I had no idea how MUCH my life would no longer be my own, but it wasn't. I had a GREAT 27 years. And as far as sacrifices go, it never was one. Maybe before I actually made the sacrifice, I might have thought that I would be giving it all up for those little souls. 

Oh but no, it never was less than a heart-felt, joyous gift. And giving it all up - nope, I didn't do that in the least bit. I became a mom. I was given so much more. And it truly is in giving that we receive.

I thought you would like this one, Aunt Karen, especially on your birthday. I know how much you wanted a big family, you were always there for all of us, and we were honored to call your ours. You held my hand through some tough times. I won't ever forget that. Thank you for opening your eyes when I didn't know what to pray for. I was just standing next to you, not really understanding why cancer was taking you in such a horrible way. You were sleeping, so beautifully at peace. I do believe in miracles, I'm one of them, but I had exhausted my requests, and for whatever reason, I knew that you were were being called home. So in that moment, I simply asked God to just let His presence be known. It was then when your eyes opened and looked right at me as if in some surreal dream when things just happen on cue. I will never forget the way the love poured from your heart when we saw each other.  You must have said, "I love you." a thousand times, over and over again.

I'll hold onto that for as long as I live.

Happy Birthday, sweet Aunt Karen. I love you back, a million times over.

Pray for the babies. That's the most powerful thing we can do.