Slugs, Sacraments, and Smoochable Nephews, Oh My!

This weeks post is made possible by the letter “S” which starts such words as Slugs, Sacraments and Smoochable.

OK the last one isn’t a real word. It should be. This is my attempt at lobbying for its inclusion in the English language. Because it perfectly describes:

1. My smoochable new nephew! He is a week old today. And has red hair! He is pretty much the cutest little thing.

2. Said nephew will be receiving the Sacrament of baptism this Sunday! We will be hosting the baptismal party. The church is getting a new little member, time to paaaartaaay. Anybody have any cool baptismal party tips to add to my growing repertoire?

3. This dovetails nicely with our School lesson for the week: B is for Baptism. We just started doing a little bit of pre-school with Sammy. I think he was bored and needing more intellectual stimulation. Now he looks forward to doing the lessons everyday. We are primarily using Catholic Icings curriculum, adding in a few things and dividing up the activities for throughout the week.

For this week: Monday we introduced the letter of the week and went through a grab bag of items that started with it. Tuesday we read about the Saint of the week, Bernadette, talked about the healing waters of Lourdes, and compared this to Baptism waters which heal us from sin. We were supposed to use some Lourdes water I had, but the kids were whacking each other with books so the lesson got cut short. Wednesday, we were supposed to talk about creation which is the current unit study he is working on and color a page from a creation coloring book. He wasn’t interested so we skipped it this week. He did do a little music lesson and learned about the key of C; he was super into the music lesson. Thursday we read the Bible Verse for the week and were going to read the passage about the Baptism of Jesus, but he wasn’t interested so we skipped it and instead did the lesson I scheduled for today. That lesson involved looking at pictures of the baptism, holding baptismal candles, looking at the baptismal garments, etc. They both loved looking at the pictures, and Sammy asked many good questions about his baptism.

In addition we use an online program called Reading Eggs for phonics. For all aspects of the schooling we do as much or as little as Sammy wants.

4. Instead of today’s lesson we took a social outing and went to the Children’s Museum in the town north of us. Most of it was geared to kids older than Sammy, but he found plenty of things to hold his interest. Ana had fun just wandering around taking in everything.

5. Sunsets are food for my soul. I caught one while popping outside to catch a little more vitamin D. I need to do that more often.

6. Slugs.

Ignore the really poorly done stenciling, this one falls behind the dryer.

I HATE THEM.

They are mocking me, spreading their slime all over the laundry room wall I finished stenciling. But I will have my revenge. I found how they are getting in and responded by covering the opening in salt. St. Francis does not approve this message.

7. Surprises. In addition to being sponsored by the letter “S,” this post is brought to you by my husband, who has sent me to the office so that he may cook dinner for me. I have no idea what he has planned, but I know it is going to be sooo good. Seriously, when we got married, he taught me how to cook, not the other way around. I am very blessed.

Linking up with Jen from Conversion Diary for Seven Quick Takes!

What are you all up to this weekend? Are you homeschooling any toddlers? Being tormented by slugs? Do you agree that smoochable should be a word? Tell me about it in the comments!

Stuff Manager vs. Steward

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Sometimes I fear that if I were to be given a job title it would be stuff manager. Read this link to see what I mean and as you read picture me as Luke finding out that Darth Vader is his father, “NOOOOOO, it can’t be . . .that’s impossible . . . NOOOOOOOO!”

I hate stuff. Basically it is like tribbles that breed in the corners of your house when you aren’t looking. See what I did there? I made a reference to Star Wars and Star Trek in the first few sentences, heck yes I’m a nerd.

Tribbles seem like nice things to have around . . .until they take over your life!

Earlier this year I did a time log, and the results were a bit scary. I spend an average of four hours a day as stuff manager: cleaning our stuff, preventing the toddler from destroying our stuff, purchasing new stuff (of the babyproofing variety), rearranging our stuff , cleaning the stuff the toddler keeps getting into. Ugh.

In the spring we had a flood. OK I am being melodramatic, it was 1/2 inch over a few hundred square feet of living space. As a result I had to go through and throw out what amounted to about 12 boxes of stuff. With very few exceptions I was glad to be rid of it all. Stuff is burdening mentally, physically and emotionally.

In our old apartment I would amuse/ drive my husband nuts by going through all of our stuff every three months, and usually take a few boxes of stuff to Good will. For the most part we had just what we needed, no more, no less.

Now that we purchased our first house there are so many more things that need to be maintained, and tools necessary to do so. Now don’t get me wrong, we are so grateful for our home. sure Its a bit of a fixer upper, its got a few flaws, (your welcome for getting the troll song from Frozen stuck in your head for the next hour), but it is a good fit for our family.

Its an unfortunate fact of life that stuff takes time to clean, maintain, organize, etc. All of that is time I would rather be spending with my family, or reading or writng– stuff distracts from these things.

For a while I decided that the answer was to make sure that there were no more unused things taking up mental and physical space. Reading a book about the necessity of poverty in the life of the lay Christian, only fueled what became a somewhat scrupulous undertaking.

I began a massive purge with the result that fifty boxes given away or donated so far. I have no idea how we accumulated that much unnecessary stuff, its really is like tribbles I tell you!

Throughout the process, I discovered that an overly zealous commitment to getting rid of all unnecessary belongings can be just as dangerous as hoarding. The point at which you are frustrated with your spouse because they won’t let you get rid of all of their stuff, you have a problem. Spending substantial amounts of time and energy deliberating the merit of keep ing each individual item at great length is time that could have been better spent.

When used appropriately in an attitude of stewardship, stuff can help foster relationships. Glancing around my living room, I see many things that aid in developing relationships or personal growth. Furniture provides a place for guests to sit and comfortably converse, books enrich the mind, and art is displayed to uplift the soul.

An unhealthy obsession with decluttering in the name of freedom from possessions just tightens the chains all the more. Whether you are obsessed with accumulating stuff or getting rid of it, you are still focused on your possessions.

I am striving to be focused on relationships instead.

How about you, are you a purger or a keeper? Where do you think the proper balance lies? Is your stuff like Tribbles? Please reassure me that you know what tribbles are!

Death’s Revelation of True Greatness

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February was a hard month. In addition to the bleak skies and restlessness that generally accompany the winter season, this year brought struggles of a decidedly more permanent nature.

Towards the beginning of the month, a friend from college died suddenly. When you are only in your mid-twenties, it is quite a shock when someone younger than you dies.

In the following weeks, my grandfather passed away from cancer. Thankfully, we had the comfort that he had lived a full and blessed life and the ripples of his legacy will continue to reach many.

In the next few days, I learned that the child of a dear friend had passed a way. The silence of this absence shouted volumes.

I found myself pounding the counter asking, no, shouting a single question to God: “WHY?!” I remember telling Him in no uncertain terms what I , the clay, thought of the Potter’s plan, knowing full well I will take back my words some day.

My thoughts, too, turned to memories of the sort of lives my grandfather and friend lived and the legacy they left behind. Naturally, when confronting death one begins to ponder what sort of legacy they will leave behind.

When I am called before the throne of God to give an account of my life, how much wasted and ill spent time will I have to address?

How many wasted minutes and hours will have been spent aimlessly scrolling through my feed on facebook, while my precious children look up at me with eyes pleading for my attention?

How much effort will I have poured into decisions of such import as which particular shade of gray I should paint the bedroom?

How often will I have sought to find happiness in a carton of ice cream knowing full well that it is not going to fulfill me.

Now I don’t want to come across as condemning social media, decorating, or ice cream. These are all things I do dearly enjoy and believe can have a place in a well lived life. It’s just a question of how big of a place.

Facing the deaths that February brought reinforced my desire to examine life in general and try to discover what living, really living, looks like. I needed a reminder that this gift of life I have been given isn’t meant for complacency, but for greatness.

Up till now, I thought that greatness was illusive at this stage of my life. Here I am, a young mama to two little ones who demand so much of my time and energy. I yearn to do great things with my life, yet my daily duties often leave me confined to my home. How am I supposed to do anything important, when most of time is spent in childcare?

Filled with frustration, I turned my thoughts back to my deceased friend and grandfather. What was it about their lives that made such an impact on me? By the world’s standard’s neither had done anything astounding, yet their impact on others was profound. What they lacked on their resume of professional accomplishments, they provided in their quiet virtue and great love.

Their lives are my reminder then, that greatness is not achieved through intellectual accomplishments, athletic prowess, or artistic creation. It must be fought for on the battlefield of the will.

This variety of greatness is possible for me to achieve in my hidden life at home, albeit with more struggle than I should like. It is a type of greatness that the world often does not recognize or acknowledge.

These loses provided me with the powerful reminder that whatever goals I may hope to achieve, which one must take priority.

Have you ever had this realization driven home? Did it take the death of a loved one, or did it come in a more gentle format?

P.S. It took this post ( http://modernmrsdarcy.com/2014/09/resume-eulogy-virtues/ ) from the ever insightful Anne of modernmrsdarcy, and the TED talk she referenced, to finaly clarify my thoughts enough that they could be distilled into this post.

P.P.S. Check out the fantastic five minute TED talk here:

“Stayin Alive” A Soundtrack for the Late Work Nights

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. . . or in my case, the husband’s late work nights. Nathan expects to have put in sixteen hours at work today.

Sammy decided to celebrate this by making it his mission to dump out anything he could get his hands on in the kitchen while he was “helping” me make dinner. Among other things, throughout the course of our meal prep he dumped out the container of popcorn kernels, the box of tea bags, the large shaker of garlic powder and for his grand finale, half a gallon of kefir water . . . all over his sister’s head. Each time I was within a few feet of him. This kid is talented. In addition while cleaning up one of his messes, he decided to, in his words “practice potty training” in the kitchen . . . yeah.

In an effort to distract him and maintain my sanity I created the following playlist. There was much dancing and singing, and less dumping out of foodstuffs. We’re calling it a win.

For your listening pleasure I present my late work night desperation playlist:

1. Eye of the Tiger- Survivor

Because its awesome.

2. Livin on a Prayer- Bon Jovi

We were totally “livin on a prayer” tonight, begging God for the grace to keep my cool. Also Ana looked at me in awe as I belted out this song. Sammy looked at me like I was insane.

3. I will Survive- Gloria Gaynor

So hypothetically, my young little college freshman self ran around in circles belting out this song during my first finals week hyped up on waaaaay too much sugar and caffeine. That is only hypothetically mind you.

4. Stayin’ Alive- Bee Gees

The title says it all.

5. I Need a Hero- Bonnie Tyler

Fortunately I found my hero in my husband. I don’t know how he finds the strength to work these insane hours for our family.

6. The Final Countdown- Europe

With any luck we are in the home stretch now . . .

7. We Are the Champions- Queen

Because “Weeee’ll keep on fighting till the end . . .”

Quick disclaimer: I did not watch every second of the footage in the videos. From what I skimmed I didn’t see anything terribly inappropriate, other than lots of men impersonating women with long hair and very skinny jeans.

Linking up with Jen at Conversion Diary for her Seven Quick Takes linkup.

Do you have a playlist that helps you get through the crazy long days? Are any of your favorites on this list?

Inside the Pregnancy Center: Not Manipulation, but Unconditional Love

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Today, I am so excited to share with you a guest post that I wrote for CatholicHousehold.com detailing my experiences volunteering as a peer counselor at a Crisis Pregnancy Center. One aspect of my work there involved meeting with women considering having an abortion. If you are curious to learn what that looks like, please head over to http://www.catholichousehold.com/inside-pregnancy-center-manipulation-unconditional-love/ . Here is an excerpt:

“After volunteering at a Pregnancy Resource Center, abortion is no longer primarily a political position, or a catchy slogan. Nor is it a nameless, faceless evil that is far removed from everyday life. It becomes something real and personal. It has a face and a name. It is “Rachel,” the woman who cries herself to sleep every night holding the ultrasound picture of the unborn baby she was pressured into aborting. It is “Sarah,” who continues to grieve the abortion she had decades ago. It is “Anna,” the teenager who describes her previous abortion as “the worst experience” of her life. It is “Jake,” the man who came to tell his story of manipulating his former girlfriend to have an abortion; with tears in his eyes, he asked that his story be told so that his unborn child’s death will not have been in vain. . .”

This is the project I referred to last week. It has been a difficult and emotional post to write, but I hope that it will prove useful in raising awareness about the important work done by Crisis Pregnancy Centers.

Please consider donating to our local Pregnancy Center if you are able https://secure.ministrysync.com/ministrysync/event/website/home/?e=5628 . As you can see in the article, our center provides essential services to the women and children of our community.

Please share the article to raise awareness of the important work of Crisis Pregnancy Centers!

Have you ever worked at a Pregnancy Center, or in another part of the pro-life movement? I would love to hear about your experiences positive or negative in the comments. Please remember to keep it civil; disagreement is fine, insults are not. Thanks!

Half Kindled

, but striving to become on fire.

Slugs, Sacraments, and Smoochable Nephews, Oh My!

Stuff Manager vs. Steward

Death’s Revelation of True Greatness

“Stayin Alive” A Soundtrack for the Late Work Nights

Inside the Pregnancy Center: Not Manipulation, but Unconditional Love